#but he’s still there for me when I’m lonely | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fiber-optic-alligator · 1 day

Note

I would LOVE to see a TFA!Megatron x human reader of some kind. I love him so much, such an intimidating and scary but fun version of him 🤭 I want it to be in the First Contact AU still, but why not sorta spice things up and make it have soulmates in it? Wouldn't it be cool to have a giant alien warlord from space destroying cities to find their soulmate? 😳🫣 lol if this idea sucks de bout it, but I'm excited to see your works that's transformers g/t related!

- ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ

THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST CHAMELANON! PLEASE ENJOY!!! God I love TFA Megs so much. He's so hot AUGH!

Be Careful What You Wish For

Pairing: TFA Megatron x Human Reader (Soulmate Au)

Word Count: 2961

Summary: Soulmates exist, and you have one. Proof exists in the form of soulmarks: a red thread-like tattoo imprinted on a person's arm. Only when one meets their soulmate and touches them will the soulmark disappear. Unfortunately, you have yet meet yours. After many lonely days wishing you would be reunited with your Other Half, a chaotic encounter with the leader of the Decepticons has you realizing one thing. And it is that soulmates persevere across time...and space.

Soulmates are real.

Since you were a young child, this is what you have been told. Soulmates are real, and every person has one. The special red thread that connects two people twines between the left hand’s fingers, up the arm, snaking under the clavicle and ending directly over the heart. Bright like the blood running through your veins, it is your life force, your compass leading you to your Other Half, with your hand outstretched to touch theirs…and only then will the red thread disappear.

You’ve spent hours staring at that red line, tracing the pattern it makes on your flesh. It’s been a constant presence throughout your life…and it has never gone away. No matter who you’ve met, who you have fallen in love with, who you have fallen out of love with, it is all the same. The thread remains, and you continue to carry a lonely heart within you.

“Give it time,” your loved ones tell you. “You’ll find them. It won’t happen in a heartbeat. You need to be patient.”

Yes, you know. Patience, after all, is a virtue. Plenty go about their lives and never even see their thread go away. An existence without your soulmate can be a perfectly happy one. But you want to know who your Other Half is. You want to be one of the lucky few who can be counted as soulfully complete.

Sitting in a coffee shop with a hot chocolate cupped between your hands, you find yourself once again observing your thread. The morning is cold; you can feel the wind trying to bite you through the shop’s large glass window. People bundled in their coats, scarves, and gloves hurry by, heads down and minds focused on whatever tasks they have at hand. Looking out, you observe them with a blank stare, not really observing them at all.

“Anything I can get you right now?” The older woman who owns the shop comes up to you, offering a plate of freshly baked cookies. “Chocolate chip? They’re right out of the oven!”

You offer her a thin smile and shake your head no. She understands; she’s seen you forlornly watching couples pass by. Sighing, she sets down the plate. “You know,” she says. “I didn’t meet my soulmate until I was in my early 40’s.”

You raise an eyebrow. She sees your surprise and chuckles. “I know, right? A little late to be meeting my Other Half. But hey, it happened. And now look at me! I’m living a good life, running a successful business, and I got to see my thread go away. Those are all things I never thought I’d get to experience. All I had to do was wait a little!”

You cringe. Yes, waiting. It seems all you’ve been doing is waiting, waiting, waiting, all for a soulmate who might never come. You and your damn waiting.

She notices your mood go sour and sighs again. “Listen, all I’m trying to say is that you shouldn’t lose hope. You’ll meet your soulmate. I know you’ve probably heard this before, but…you need to give the world time to sort things into order. That’s all you really can do when you're dealing with the threads of fate.”

You mumble a quiet “Thank you” and try to look appreciative, when you feel anything such. She says no more, but leaves you a cookie before heading off to tend to the other customers. You watch her go, then lift up your left hand. Your thread is vibrantly bright, showing no signs of fading any time soon.

Yeah, you think sadly while you bite into the cookie. No hope lost whatsoever.

You are walking out of the shop when it happens. The door’s little chimes clink together as you swing it open and bid the owner farewell. And then, a pain unlike any other hits you with the force of a freight train. It tackles you and makes you stagger, knees buckling and bringing you to the ground in a matter of seconds. Your heart starts slamming against your ribcage so hard you think a bone might crack. Pushing your hand against your chest, you pant and watch your vision swim as you attempt to get to your feet, yet fail and fall down once more.

Multiple people help you up, each one asking if you are alright. You hold out a shaking hand as if to assure them, but no sound comes out of your mouth when you try to speak.

Someone says, “Call an ambulance!” You want to tell them you are fine; unfortunately, you can’t seem to form any coherent words. All that rises up from your throat is a thin, wispy whimper.

The chaos continues when out of nowhere, an explosion erupts further down the street. People scream and scramble back. The people holding you let go, and you nearly topple right over again. Shouts of panic and confusion fill the air, confirming that no one has a clue as to what is going on.

Two dark shapes scream through the sky. You look up just in time to see a fighter jet fly past with a bomber plane following behind. For a moment, you think this is some sort of military aerial show-why such a thing would be happening in the middle of winter, you don’t know-but it’s the only conclusive argument you can decide on what you are seeing.

But then the two planes start descending. They roar over the crowded street, then begin morphing and shaping themselves into creatures completely different from the disguises they previously sported. You recognize them: they are Cybertronians. Robots from outer space who have become borderline celebrities in Detroit since arriving here months earlier. These two, however, aren’t members of the heroic Autobots who help protect the city. They are Decepticons. The villains, the destroyers. The bad ones.

The smaller of the two stretches his arms over his head. He laughs maniacally as he watches people run. “Look at them, Lugnut! They’re scurrying away like little ants!”

The other Deception growls and pays no mind to his partner. “Silence, Blitzwing. Lord Megatron has a mission for us to complete. We must distract the humans while he finds the one he is looking for.”

Blitzwing’s face swivels and changes into an icy blue expression. He surveys the humans around him with an air of disgust. “I don’t understand why Lord Megatron cares to capture one of these creatures. They are far too weak to be kept as pets.”

“It is not my place to question him, nor is it yours. We are here to do as we are told and give our lord the time he needs to complete his mission.” Lugnut grabs a car and throws it into the air. It crashes down with a heavy slam, windows shattering, metal crumpling, alarm screeching out the vehicle’s pain. You watch in horror, unable to fathom that you have a front row seat to this show of destruction Detroit is about to face.

Yeah, no, you think. I’m not sticking around. These Decepticons obviously have no regard for human lives. If you remain here, there is a high chance you will end up dead. You need to run, now.

“You're not going anywhere, little one.”

The voice is deep, and it pulses through your mind like a gong. You clutch your head and bite back a shout of pain. A strange feeling builds up in your chest. It makes your heart beat faster, and your thread begins to burn with an uncomfortable warmth you have never felt before.

A third vehicle appears from the sky: a strange helicopter with two blades and a massive cannon mounted beneath its cockpit. Your hair whips back when it lands. The Cybertronian’s body condenses and rises, metal folding over metal, creating a gigantic figure with narrowed red eyes that immediately land on you the moment they open. Your jaw drops; this is easily the biggest mech you have ever seen. And you recognize him. Megatron, the feared leader of the Decepticon forces, and the worst bot you could run into right now.

Lugnut drops to his knees and bows. “I serve you, Lord Megatron!”

Megatron does not acknowledge him. He remains focused on you. You are finding it hard to breathe.

Blitzwing walks over to the taller mech. “My lord, the Autobots will be arriving soon. What should we do?”

“Continue destroying what you can.” Megatron’s voice is a deep rumble of thunder. You feel the wind get knocked out of you when you hear it. His voice. His voice. Why are you so focused on his voice?

Your thread is beginning to burn. You slap your hand over your left arm and squeeze, hissing through your teeth. Megatron notices; he looks intrigued.

“Have you found what you are looking for, master?” Lugnut asks.

“Indeed I have,” Megatron replies. “And I don’t intend to let it escape me. Resume your orders. Keep the Autobots back for as long as you can. Once I have what we came here for, I will sound the retreat.”

Blitzwing and Lugnut do not question him any further. You, on the other hand, are questioning everything. Why is this robot having such an effect on you? Why can you hear his voice in your head? And why, why is your soulmark on fire?!

He’s here for me. There’s no solid confirmation that has been given to you about this, but you know deep down it is true.

He’s looking right at me.

Shit. Fuck.

Your legs want to move. But your brain forbids it and forces you to remain put, even as other people go running by you, their screams mingling as one high-pitched wail while Blitzwing and Lugnut destroy anything they can get their hands on.

Megatron remains still. He tilts his head with the air of a curious predator who is searching out the weak spots of his prey. You cannot drop eye contact with him. Something about his piercing gaze has you rooted to the spot in which you stand.

Only when he begins lumbering towards you do you snap out of it and run with the rest.

Everything is a blur for you. You nearly get shoved to the ground multiple times by the panicked masses who are fleeing. It feels like Detroit is crashing down. Police drones are flying in to fight back against the Decepticons, but you don’t think for a second they’ll do any damage against them. After all, they hardly ever do.

“Don’t run from me, little one.”

There is pain. So much pain. It is too much for you to handle. It causes you to collapse, clutching your head and writhing in agony.

“You are so much more fascinating than the rest of your pathetic kind.”

The ground trembles. Each step signals the robot drawing closer and closer.

“Why can I feel what you feel? Why does my spark tremble with your fear? I don’t understand it. I need to understand it. So stop running, and come here.”

You need to keep going. Grunting, you struggle to your feet and stumble forward in a haphazard fashion. You don’t even bother looking back to see if the robot is close. You just need to run. You need to hide.

Your miracle appears in the form of a parking garage. Squirming under the partially closed grated gate, you find that it is abandoned; no one is in here with you, and the cars are all empty, abandoned by their owners. You retreat into a corner dark and covered with shadows. It should provide you with the necessary cover you need in order to hide.

You remain in there for what feels like hours. It goes awfully quiet outside. Any remaining civilians are long gone. Somewhere close, you think you hear the sound of mechs duking it out. Your breathing echoes off of the parking garage’s walls, giving you a further sensation of complete unease. Perhaps hiding in here wasn’t the best choice. Maybe you should have continued running with other people to a safer spot. Allowing others to be in your presence would endanger them…but now you are alone, completely defenseless to those who wish you harm. The robot who is currently stalking you can kill you without even thinking about it. By hoping to protect the city, you may have ensured your own doom.

You hear stomping outside. Too loud to be human, too heavy to be an Autobot. Your heart tugs eagerly on its strings in an attempt to break free. It’s a mutual sensation of utter fear and strange wanting.

“Where are you?”

You see the massive head of the mech appear right underneath the gate. A shriek nearly escapes you, and you have to slap your hands over your mouth to quell it. A single roving red eye searches the garage, unblinking.

“I am not known for my patience, human. If you do not show yourself, I cannot guarantee things will end up well for you.”

The eye settles on you. It narrows and a low growl emits from the robot’s intake. “There you are.”

You have no chance to react before Megatron’s hand smashes through the gate. You scream when his fingers curl around you. Tightly pressed against his palm, you struggle and kick your feet while Megatron slowly draws you out into the open.

“Let me go!” you shriek. “Stop! Please!”

Megatron growls again and gives you a warning squeeze. “Fighting me will get you nowhere. Cease this at once, or suffer the consequences.”

Well, that’s threatening. You immediately go limp and snap your mouth shut. Megatron snorts, satisfied. He brings you closer to his face, studying you. You shrink back, flush with panic and terror.

“What is your name, human?” he rumbles.

You stutter out a barely coherent reply. “Y-Y-Y/N.”

“Y/N.” He repeats it to himself. “Y/N…a fitting name. Tell me, have we ever met before?”

“I…I d-don’t believe so?” you say.

“Hm.” He regards you, turning his hand left and right so he can examine you from all angles. “How very interesting.”

“W-What’s interesting?”

“Your mark.” He pushes his thumb under your left forearm. “It’s gone.”

You follow his gaze. Indeed, where your thread should have been-the thread that has been with you for your entire life, a presence in which you believed would never leave you-there is only bare skin. There isn’t a speck of red to be seen. The burning that accompanied it before is gone too, and now there is a sort of settlement weighing on your chest. It is an instinctive rush of fulfillment, like this was meant to happen.

You feel faint. Nothing makes sense anymore when you look back at the robot. “You…You're my soulmate?” you squeak.

“Soulmate.” Megatron stretches the word out into a slow drawl. “So that’s what your species calls it. Yes, you can say that. My kind has a similar phenomenon that affects us.” He opens his mouth and breathes in deeply. “You smell of fear. I can see in your eyes that you know me. So this city is aware of who I am, hm?”

You don’t dare answer. You're way too terrified of how close his massive teeth are to you. You don’t want to think about what might happen if you find yourself between them.

“There is no need to be afraid of me. Our sparks are linked. I would be killing a piece of myself if I were to eliminate you.” He sighs. “As disappointed as I am to discover that my sparkmate is a human, I can learn to work with it. I wish to know more about you, Y/N. I will know why fate tied us.”

“I need to know more.”

“What makes you so different?”

“Foolish little thing, you cannot get away from me.”

“I will get to the bottom of this.”

His thoughts are loud and overwhelming. You shake your head and feel tears gather in your eyes. “Please…It’s too much. Your thoughts-”

“Ah. Is that primitive brain of your overloading? I can hear it. Don’t think your thoughts aren’t in my head as well.” He rises to his full height. “I am sure we will both learn to get used to it. If not, I will have Shockwave create something that will bar my thoughts from entering your mind.”

“Wait! Wait!” You look down. The ground is far away from you. Everything sways queasily when Megatron begins to walk. “No! Put me down!”

“If you vomit on me, I will not hesitate to drop you,” the Decepticon says gratingly.

“Y-You can’t take me with you!” you yell at him. “I can’t be your soulmate! There has to be a mistake!”

“The spark doesn’t lie. Your mark is gone, and I can feel the completion you bring me. There is no question that you are my Other Half. What I want to know is why.” He shakes his head angrily. “It is a burden to have such a weak creature by my side. But I will learn to understand. Perhaps you can show me the few strengths humans possess. Do you think you can convince me to spare your race, little one?”

He’s taking you. He’s not letting you go. You feel faint with horror at the realization that you aren’t getting out of this. Whether you believe it or not, this alien robot is your soulmate.

You’ve gotten exactly what you wanted. But this isn’t how you thought meeting your Other Half would go.

You hear one last thought from Megatron echo ominously in your mind. It sends shivers down your spine. “You are mine now.”

After that, you pass out.

#gator writes #transformers #tfa megatron x reader #megatron x reader #tfa megatron #megatron #transformers x reader #transformers x human reader #reader insert #transformers animated #tfa #maccadam #transformers g/t #giant tiny

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bansurii · 21 hours

Text

Pen Pals

pair: sukuna x afab!reader

content: smut, stalking, threats, slight violence, dubious consent i think ?, profanity, choking, an impossible angle, sukuna is a serial killer but we never touch fully on that, reader is scared a lot, and idk what more is needed but just be careful proceeding MDNI thank you!

line dividers @cafekitsune

“So, what if your charming pen pal turns out to look like Quasimodo?”

“I have his picture! Besides, it’s not like we’ll ever actually meet. He’s serving life.”

Your friend gaped at you, her eyes widening in disbelief.

The conversation had begun with your usual letter-writing ritual. What had once been a simple hobby had evolved into an infatuation with a man labeled as one of the world's most dangerous criminals. Despite his reputation, his letters had been nothing but kind, making your heart flutter with each new page. His picture revealed a ruggedly handsome man, his body adorned with tattoos that hinted at a dangerous past.

You had told your friend about him almost a year ago. Predictably, she responded with trepidation, urging you to choose a less notorious correspondent.

“He’s still a person,” you’d argue. “Even the most hated need love too. And what harm could he do if he never knows where I live, let alone what I look like?”

However, his latest request had unsettled you both. He wanted a picture of you, something to remember you by during lonely times. Your friend was livid when you mentioned it.

“You cannot send him a picture! What if he has friends on the outside? I refuse to become a target because of your bad decisions!”

You laughed it off, continuing to write a diplomatic yet affectionate refusal. Your friend, exasperated, finally sighed in defeat.

“Well, enjoy writing to the serial killer. I’m staying at my boyfriend’s place for a while. If he gets out and comes after you, call the police first, then me.”

You reassured her with a laugh, promising to be cautious. She hugged you tightly before leaving. Neither of you noticed the grey car parked across the street, its presence having become so familiar it was easily ignored.

The following evening, a knock at your door startled you. Expecting your friend, you were puzzled to find no one there. Just a box.

With a mix of excitement and dread, you approached the door. The box bore a note in handwriting you recognized instantly:

*Such a beautiful home. I thought you would enjoy a little gift from the other side…*

Your anxiety surged. You scanned the empty, unnaturally quiet street before retreating inside. The flickering streetlight across from your home seemed dimmer than usual, casting eerie shadows. A rustle in the bushes sent you scurrying back inside, locking the doors and setting the alarm with trembling hands.

The box sat ominously on your coffee table. Despite your curiosity, fear kept you from opening it. Instead, you holed up in your room, hoping sleep would come despite the dread gnawing at you.

In the dead of night, you jolted awake to the sound of metal scraping against metal. Someone was inside your home.

Determined not to fall into the typical horror trope of investigating, you stayed put. But then you heard it—footsteps, slow and deliberate, ascending the carpeted stairs.

Panic gripped you. Clutching the bat you kept in your closet, you listened as the intruder approached. The door across the hall creaked open, and you steeled yourself for the worst. But then you recognized the sounds—muffled giggles and a familiar voice.

Relief washed over you. Your friend had returned, and apparently brought her boyfriend. You set the bat down, heart still racing, and fell back into bed, the adrenaline finally giving way to exhaustion.

In the morning, you would face the box and the mysteries it held. For now, you allowed yourself to sink into the comfort of your bed, hoping that sleep would bring a respite from the turmoil of the past few days.

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow on your bedroom. Despite the terror of the previous night, you felt a strange sense of calm as you padded downstairs. The box still sat on the coffee table, its presence a reminder of the eerie note and the mystery it held.

Taking a deep breath, you sat on the couch and gingerly lifted the lid. Inside, nestled in a bed of luxurious velvet, was an object that took your breath away. It was a stunningly crafted necklace, the centerpiece a large, gleaming sapphire surrounded by intricate filigree work in white gold. The piece was elegant, expensive, and utterly out of place for something sent from a prison.

You lifted it gently, the gem catching the light and casting tiny rainbows across the room. For a moment, the sheer beauty of the necklace overshadowed your fear. How could something so exquisite come from a man behind bars?

Elated but wary, you turned the necklace over in your hands, inspecting every detail. It was flawless, and the craftsmanship was impeccable. This was no ordinary gift.

Your mind raced. How did he manage to send something so extravagant? More importantly, how did he know your address? You felt a shiver run down your spine as you recalled your friend's words: *“What if he has friends on the outside?”*

The realization hit you hard. He must have outside help. Someone capable of acquiring such a piece and delivering it to your doorstep. Your elation was quickly replaced by a deep sense of unease.

How long had he known where you lived? You thought back to the grey car that had been parked across the street. Was it connected? Had you been watched?

You set the necklace back in the box, hands trembling. The beauty of the gift now seemed tainted by the sinister implications. Your friend's warnings echoed in your mind: *“I am not going to die because of your bad decisions!”* You couldn’t ignore the danger any longer.

Reaching for your phone, you dialed your friend’s number. She answered on the third ring, her voice groggy with sleep.

“Hey, it’s me. You were right. We need to talk.”

Later that day, your friend arrived, her face a mix of concern and frustration. You showed her the necklace, and she gasped.

“This is... gorgeous. But it’s also terrifying. How did he send this?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice shaking. “And I don’t know how he found my address.”

She paced the room, glancing nervously out the window. “We need to call the police. This is beyond creepy.”

You nodded, knowing she was right. The thrill of your pen pal had turned into something dangerous, something that required more than just caution. As you picked up the phone to dial the authorities, you couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes on you, the sense of being watched. The beautiful necklace now felt like a heavy weight, a symbol of the peril you had unwittingly invited into your life.

As you waited for the police to arrive, you couldn’t help but wonder about the man who had written such kind letters. Was he truly as dangerous as they said, or was there more to the story? Either way, you knew you couldn’t continue the correspondence. The price of your curiosity had become too high, and your safety was worth far more than any thrill or beautiful gift.

A few weeks had passed, and your friend continued to stay with her boyfriend, feeling guilty for leaving you alone but too scared to return. She called you every day, ensuring you were unharmed and feeling as well as could be expected. The police had stationed an officer outside your house during those weeks, but with no further incidents, they eventually recalled the officer. They advised you to call if anything came up, assuring you they would do their best to keep you safe. You had downplayed the threat, omitting any mention of your pen pal. Had they known the full extent, they might have placed you under witness protection.

Unfortunately, the eerie calm was shattered today.

The grey car had returned, and this time, you could make out the driver. He bore a stark resemblance to the picture you had seen of your pen pal, the world’s most dangerous criminal, now sitting outside your home, watching and waiting. But for what? What did he plan to do once you were alone?

You couldn't call out from work again, needing to maintain some semblance of normalcy. Steeling yourself, you put on your best intimidating face and walked to your car, though you felt more like a deer caught in headlights. Ignoring the piercing, watchful eyes of the man was harder than you imagined, but you managed to get into your car and drive away.

You knew it was foolish to drive to work, thinking he might follow you, but if he knew your address, he likely knew where you worked. At least at work, you'd be surrounded by people and security personnel. If he tried anything—which you doubted he would in such a public setting—there would be help nearby.

The day dragged on, dread gnawing at you. Your focus was shattered, and your supervisor almost reprimanded you until they realized how shaken you were. They backed off, giving you space to regain your composure. HR knew something was seriously wrong but couldn’t disclose details to anyone else, offering you a temporary reprieve.

But this day was particularly harrowing, and you barely made it through. As the workday ended, you practically sprinted to your car, seeking the relative safety it offered while there were still people around.

Home was a different story.

You entered, not realizing the door had been unlocked until you were already in the living room. Shock, dread, and fear flooded you as you saw him there, seated on your sofa.

He was casually examining a picture of you with your friend, family, and your old pet. He looked content, as if he belonged there, as if he were truly at home.

Panic surged. You wondered what he could do to you in such close quarters. Thick walls muted sounds from neighboring homes; no one would hear you in time. You felt paralyzed, unsure of what to do if he made a move.

He shifted his position, dropping one leg and crossing the other, all the while holding your gaze. He took in your presence, the real you, not just the image he had studied. You were no longer a picture, but flesh and blood, standing before him.

“Nice to meet you, [Your Name].”

You had never told him your real name, only an alias. Somehow, he had discovered your true identity, just as he had found your address.

“I hope you don’t mind my intrusion. I couldn’t resist, especially after a month of silence from you. I noticed you called the police. I'm quite impressed that you managed to keep my presence in your life a secret.”

You trembled, tears starting to well in your eyes and trickle down your face.

“Ah, don’t cry. I’m not here to harm you. What I have in mind will be much more pleasurable. For both of us.”

His words chilled you to the core. The beauty of the necklace, the allure of his letters, all seemed like a distant dream compared to the present reality. You stood frozen, unable to move or speak, as he smiled at you, his intentions shrouded in menace and mystery.

“I-I…”

The tears began to slow, your breath evening out as a semblance of calm started to return. He watched you closely, giving you a moment to dry your face and find the words that had eluded you.

But silence persisted. Your thoughts were in disarray, still grappling with the reality of his sudden presence. He seemed to sense your inner turmoil, knowing you needed time to process the situation. As he approached, his imposing figure loomed over you, each step bringing him closer.

Realizing his intent, you instinctively retreated, but his long strides easily closed the distance. Your back met the cold, unyielding wall, trapping you. You wished you could tear it down, burrow into an indestructible sanctuary, and escape the nightmare your life had become.

His proximity was overwhelming, a blend of menace and fascination, as you stood frozen, unable to tear your gaze from his. The intensity of the moment hung heavy in the air, a storm of emotions threatening to consume you both.

He continued to close the distance, his presence suffocating yet electrifying. You could feel the heat radiating from his body as he drew nearer, until he was mere inches away. He raised his arms, placing his hands on the wall on either side of your head, effectively caging you in. The scent of him, a mix of cologne and something distinctly male, enveloped you.

"Is this what you like?" he asked, his voice a low, tantalizing murmur. His eyes bored into yours, searching for a reaction.

Your breath hitched, the proximity overwhelming your senses. The thrill of fear and an unexpected surge of excitement coursed through you, leaving you dizzy and unable to respond.

"Tell me," he continued, leaning in even closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "Is this what you've been waiting for?"

The intensity of his gaze, the warmth of his breath, and the sheer force of his presence made it hard to think, let alone speak. You were caught in a whirlwind of emotions, your mind a chaotic mix of fear, confusion, and a strange, unwelcome attraction. His dominance was intoxicating, leaving you both terrified and inexplicably drawn to him.

His hands remained on the wall, trapping you, as his eyes continued to hold yours captive. The room seemed to shrink around you, the air thick with unspoken tension. In that moment, you realized you were at his mercy, and the realization sent a shiver down your spine.

The intensity in his gaze didn't waver as he spoke again, his voice a silken whisper. "Why don't you show me around? I'd like to see more of your home."

Your heart pounded as you nodded, feeling compelled to comply. Slowly, he dropped his hands from the wall, giving you a semblance of freedom, though his presence still dominated the space. He gestured for you to lead the way.

With trembling steps, you walked towards the staircase, feeling his eyes on you, a constant reminder of the danger and allure he embodied. The transition from the living room to the upper floor was surreal, the normalcy of your home tainted by his dark presence. Each step up the stairs felt like a journey deeper into an inescapable labyrinth.

You reached the top of the stairs and paused, glancing back at him. His expression was unreadable, but a faint, almost predatory smile played at his lips. You hesitated for a moment before pushing open the door to your bedroom.

"This is my room," you said softly, stepping inside.

He followed, his tall frame filling the doorway before he moved to the center of the room. He looked around, taking in every detail. The room, once a sanctuary, now felt exposed and vulnerable.

"Show me more," he instructed, his voice firm yet oddly gentle.

You led him to the adjoining bathroom, your hands trembling as you opened the door. The bathroom was small but neat, the shower glistening under the overhead light. He inspected it briefly, then turned back to you, his eyes locking onto yours.

"This will do nicely," he said, his tone casual but with an undercurrent of something more.

Your mind raced, the reality of the situation pressing down on you. "What do you want from me?" you managed to ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He stepped closer, reaching out to gently brush a stray lock of hair from your face. "For now, just your cooperation. Tonight is just the beginning. After the night's activities, I might need a place to clean up."

His words sent a shiver down your spine. The ambiguity of "activities" left your mind reeling with possibilities, each more terrifying than the last. You found yourself nodding, unable to do anything else.

"Good girl," he murmured, his hand lingering on your cheek. "Now, let's make the most of our evening together."

His touch was both reassuring and sinister, a stark reminder of the control he wielded over you. “Take this off…”

You were shocked, appalled even, at such a request from a man you barely knew, despite the intimacy of his letters, the truths he shared, his truth.

You hesitated, glancing up at him with a mix of trepidation and a spark of rebellion.

He smirked slightly, as if he had anticipated your resistance. His hand reached out, but you scurried backward, clutching onto what felt like the last vestiges of your dignity.

He wasn’t taking no for an answer, not from someone who had shown him such genuine kindness, such unguarded affection for the first time in decades.

It dawned on you just how monumental a mistake that kindness had been.

As you stood there, frozen in your shock, he moved swiftly. In an instant, he had closed the distance between you, his strong hands seizing your blouse. The fabric bunched under his grip, the force of his hold sending a jolt through you.

“Don’t fight it,” he murmured, his voice a velvet threat. “You and I both know this was inevitable.”

His words hung heavy in the air, mingling with the palpable tension that seemed to throb between you. His touch, firm and unyielding, ignited a tumult of emotions within you—fear, defiance, and a disturbing undercurrent of something you couldn’t quite name.

“You think you can just come into my life and—” your voice faltered, the defiance wavering under the weight of his gaze.

“I don’t think, I know,” he interrupted, his tone commanding and confident. His eyes, dark and intense, bore into yours. “You invited me in with every letter, every secret you shared. This connection we have—it’s real. And now, it’s time to face it.”

Your breath hitched as he pulled you closer, the proximity making your heart race. The air between you crackled with an undeniable energy, a mix of danger and an inexplicable pull that left you both terrified and entranced.

“You’ve got me all wrong,” you whispered, desperation creeping into your voice.

“No,” he replied, his grip tightening ever so slightly. “I’ve got you exactly where I want you.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, the reality of your situation crashing over you. The walls of your sanctuary seemed to close in, the room shrinking as his presence dominated. You were caught in his web, and the more you struggled, the more entangled you became.

With a final, firm tug, he brought you even closer, his breath warm against your skin. “Let’s see how this night unfolds,” he murmured, a promise and a threat woven into his words.

In that moment, you realized there was no escape. You were his, for better or worse, and the night was just beginning.

His deft hands worked quickly, yet with a surprising gentleness, as he pulled at your blouse. He was careful, mindful of not tearing buttons or threads, his touch respectful in its slow haste to undress you. Each movement seemed deliberate, as if he were savoring the unveiling of your skin, as if he knew the value of each delicate inch.

Once your clothing lay discarded, you stood before him in just your bralette and panties, exposed yet somehow still veiled in mystery. His eyes roamed over you, taking in the sight of a woman—a vision of beauty that left him breathless. He drank in every curve, every line, every delicate feature, his gaze lingering on each detail as if committing them to memory.

He had seen countless women in his lifetime, but none had captivated him quite like you. There was something about you, something ineffable and intoxicating, that drew him in, leaving him hungry for more.

In that moment, as you stood there before him, vulnerable yet unyielding, he realized just how much he craved you. And he knew, with a certainty that bordered on obsession, that he would stop at nothing to possess you completely.

You knew that begging would likely be futile, so you chose silence instead, allowing your gaze to wander anywhere but at him and what he was doing. But he seemed to revel in being watched, his ego swelling as he unveiled each layer of your clothing.

His touch was insistent as his index finger and thumb grasped your chin, forcing your gaze to remain solely on him. You felt a surge of defiance rise within you, but it was quickly quelled by the intensity of his gaze.

With practiced ease, he removed your bra, followed by your panties. The air between you crackled with tension as he exposed you completely, and you couldn't help but feel exposed and vulnerable under his scrutiny.

A low groan escaped him, barely audible but unmistakable. It was a sound of longing, of desire unleashed after years of confinement. You realized then just how long it had been since he had seen a living, breathing woman, and the thought sent a shiver down your spine.

You stood there, naked and exposed, feeling his eyes on you like a physical touch. There was something primal in the way he looked at you, as though he were seeing you for the first time, drinking in every curve and contour of your body.

You tried to maintain some semblance of composure, but it was difficult under his relentless gaze. You felt stripped bare, not just of your clothing but of your defenses, your vulnerabilities laid bare before him.

As he stepped closer, the heat of his body enveloping you, you knew that there was no turning back. The night stretched out before you, a vast unknown filled with equal parts fear and fascination. And as he reached out to pull you closer, you couldn't help but wonder what other surprises lay in store.

Your cheek pressed into the cold, quartz floor of your bathroom, every nerve ending alive with sensation. You could feel the weight of him behind you, his eyes drinking in the sight of your rear pressing against his hips. His blazer, shirt, and pants had been discarded, leaving him in just his boxers. Despite the fabric that still separated your bodies, you felt everything from him—his warmth, his strength, his desire.

He had positioned you in a neat arch, your body stretched taut, every muscle straining against the confines of your own submission. His command was clear: remain still, hold that position until he was ready to take you further.

You obeyed, every fiber of your being thrumming with anticipation and fear. The cold floor beneath you was a stark contrast to the heat that radiated from him, and the sensation only heightened your awareness of every touch, every breath that brushed against your skin.

Time seemed to stand still as you waited, your body poised on the precipice of something unknown. You could hear the steady rhythm of your own heartbeat, a counterpoint to the electric tension that hung heavy in the air.

And then, without warning, his hands were on you, tracing the contours of your body with a touch that sent shivers down your spine. His fingers were skilled, mapping every curve and dip with a precision that left you breathless.

You felt him shift behind you, his body moving with a fluid grace that belied the strength coiled beneath his skin. You were afraid of the movement, wanting to look behind you to see what exactly he was doing. And when you felt the tip of him nearing your heat, you redacted the beautiful arch he helped you to create for him and tried to squirm away.

Before you knew it, he had your hair twisted in his hand, pressing your head painfully further against the floor, his breath fanning over your ear. “Move again… and I will crack your skull over this floor and with this treasure I’ll summon something worse than death for you.”

And then, with a suddenness that stole your breath away, he entered you, filling you completely with a single, powerful thrust.

The sensation was overwhelming, a flood of pleasure and pain that threatened to consume you. You bit back a gasp, your body trembling with the effort to remain still as he took you further, deeper into the abyss of his desire. He was much too large to enjoy, your stretched muscles struggling to comprehend the intrusion.

And as he moved within you, each thrust driving you closer to the edge of oblivion, you realized that there was no turning back. You were his, body and soul, caught in the grip of a passion that threatened to consume you both. And in that moment, as he claimed you as his own, you surrendered to the darkness that beckoned, knowing that there was no escape from the depths of his desire.

By the time he was finished, you had orgasmed nearly six times. The final was barely an orgasm, he had edged you and slapped your ass. Breathy laughs finding your ears and somehow you felt yourself able to share his laughter. Your cunt clenched against his twitching length, a feeling he relished in.

Just when you thought he was finished, he pushed your legs apart as far as they would go, nearly into a split, pressing himself further into you, impossibly deeper. Your eyes bulged, hips tightened and your cunt contracted against his deep-seated length once more, your cervix contracting and relaxing in slow bouts against his tip. He lifted your hips, allowing him a new arch, fresh angle, and an even deeper reach.

You wanted to sob, to beg him to stop, but you also wanted to see what he would do in this position.

He reached one hand in front, taking your neck into his possession and he pulled back just enough to keep you stationary and choke you slightly at the same time, the angle would do the rest.

And slowly, he pulled back, allowing just the tip to remain before he thrusts intensely inside of you, pressing against the spot he knew would drive you insane.

And you cursed him, screaming out all sorts of obscenities and lewd things as he continued to abuse the same spot. His girth squeezed in and out of you with much effort, the tightened feel of your cunt in this position was the one thing that kept him grounded, eyes drawn into a focus on your connected bodies.

He had cum so many times and this position had him dangerously close to blowing his load again, but he held back just enough. He wanted to cum with you again.

Increasing his speed, he pushed and pulled inside your pussy, watching as it sucked him and pushed him out simultaneously.

“S’kunaaaa… Fuuuccckkk! Pl-please!”

He knew what you were begging for, screaming out his name for. And he was so close to giving it to you. He had to give you what you wanted since you had been so obedient for him all night. He was nearing his end, bringing his free hand down to your clit and rubbing dangerous circles and odd shapes into it, nearly ritualistic in his methods and just he groaned his approval, you squirted. Full-body quakes erupting, your eyes rolling back into your head. Anyone watching the scene would have thought you were having a seizure.

But Sukuna knew. And you knew.

It was simply nirvana.

112 notes · View notes

jilyawards · 3 days

Text

The Jily Fandom Rec List 2024 is a compilation of Jily stories our readers want to keep an eye on for this year's awards.

MAY

All The Lonely People (Where Do They All Come From?) (WIP, 4.9k as of 31 May 2024) by @nodirectionhome-ao3. Rated M.

James Potter is a Ministry agent. Lily Evans is a disrupter. But Lily is gone...a figment of the past... Or so James thinks.

Risky Behaviour (completed, 1k) by @jamesunderwater. Rated M.

Lily is determined not to get distracted during rounds again. Written for @jilymicrofics Mystery Microfic May Prompt 27: Risk

Sweet Seventeen (completed, <1k) by @jamesunderwater. Rated G.

James is dating an older woman. She loves snow. He loves... well, it's too soon to say it.

here lies (completed, 4.4k) by @gigglesandfreckles-hp. Rated T.

“Were we expecting you?” He looks slightly horrified, as if he’s forgotten an important appointment, and turns to his wife for help. “I’m sorry if— “No, dear.” Euphemia shakes her head, moving toward him and running a smoothing hand through his mop of messy, white hair. “Lily here was just depositing our highly inebriated son.” “Oh, that’s rather charitable of her.” [or: James can't hold his drink, or his affections]

the same rule applies to goodness and grief (completed, 3.6k) by @gigglesandfreckles-hp. Rated T.

“I need your assurance that if this all goes tits up and you end up dead, you’re not gonna haunt me for stealing your family.” “I’m starting to question whether your concern for my safety is genuine.” “Just can’t help it, Prongs. World's cutest baby. You and stupid Evans. Beautiful people. I hate you both.” “Good night, Sirius,” says Lily, shaking her head in laughter. [or: James is starting to worry Lily so she calls in reinforcements]

maybe it was egos swinging (maybe it was her) (completed, 11.1k) by @apalapucian. Rated T.

james starts rolling his shoulders, wincing. "jesus, evans." "back at ya," says lily, testing her wrists. "ever heard of taking it easy?" "with you? never." "can’t believe you’d use confringo on me." "knew you'd block it," he says. "can’t believe you’d use depulso." she shrugs, grinning. "knew you'd block it." (or: seventh-year, auror-aspirant, academic rivals, head boy and head girl james and lily.)

Hitchhikers May Be Escaping Inmates (WIP, 24.3k as of 31 May 2024) by @themaraudershavethephonebox. Rated T.

At eighteen, Lily Evans learned she had a soulmate. June seventh she woke up with scrawled text over her ribcage that could not come off in the shower no matter how hard she scrubbed, or with the wipes her mother used to get pen ink out of her father’s clothes, nor the acetone her sister used to remove her nail varnish. Lily Evans still believed in love, in magic. That she could fly. But the universe would not be calling the shots when it came to it fuck you very much.

Love for the Summer (WIP, 51.9k as of 31 May 2024) by @missgryffin. Rated E.

It's the summer after sixth year, Lily Evans is realizing she fancies James Potter, and James has Sirius Black's motorbike to thank for getting Lily out of the friend zone.

The Loyal Companion: A Tale of Bad Dates and Good Whiskey (WIP, 10.7k as of 31 May 2024) by @sophie-hatter-jenkins. Rated M.

Lily Evans endures a series of disastrous first dates at her new favourite bar, The Loyal Companion. Still, at least the whiskey is good. And the bartender is cute. Not her type though. Nope, definitely not.

Just the Two of Us (completed, 10.2k) by @arianatwycross. Rated T.

Head Students James and Lily face a perilous twist when a malicious potion surfaces in hate mail directed at Lily. Dumbledore orders a week-long quarantine in the Head Students' suite. With unspoken crushes lingering, the duo navigates close quarters, leading to unexpected revelations, lingering looks and forehead kisses.

silence and patience, pining in anticipation (completed, 1.2k) by @kay-elle-cee. Rated T.

Lily’s been hung up on James for years; a tipsy conversation might be the push she needs to do something about it.

A Heart of Coal (completed, 8.6k) by @wearingaberetinparis. Rated T.

They say fortune favours the bold, yet Lily Evans was given her death sentence at seventeen. As soon as midnight strikes on the eve of her eighteenth birthday, her heart will turn to coal. Gryffindor knight James Potter, however, is the last to accept such a fate. For while Lily Evans’ curse foretells her death, his foreshadows a life without his unrequited true love at his side. Written for the March Jily Challenge. Prompt: A curse will strike on A's birthday and that can only be undone by a dragon’s fire, true love's kiss or a fairy's tears. None of those three even exist, or do they?

meet you there (completed, 7.8k) by flagpoles. Rated M.

Lily Evans to James Potter: why is this bar called the horse and carriage btw James Potter: romantic gesture from binns for his ex wife James Potter: it was their nicknames for each other. wish i was joking Lily Evans: fuck me i would also divorce a guy who nicknamed me carriage James Potter: believe it or not she was horse Lily Evans: well christ // they work in a bar and things are going completely fine, actually

Check out the previous months' recs too: January, February, March || April

Happy reading!

#jily fandom rec list 2024

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xxspringmelodyxx · 2 days

Text

That Girl’s A Liar~

Satoru Gojo x F!Reader

Here is part III! I hope you all enjoy<333 Part I Part II

The school bell rang, signaling the end of the day. I headed towards the library, where Kai and I had planned to meet up and go over his strategy to ask Amai out. My mind was still buzzing with thoughts of Toru and the missed chance to talk to him earlier. It had been such a strange, disheartening day. For the first time since we became friends, Toru and I hadn’t exchanged a single word.

We never even crossed paths, our schedules seemingly conspiring to keep us apart. That or we were just too busy with school work to talk. It felt as if a crucial part of my day was missing, leaving an empty void that gnawed at me. The absence of our connection cast a shadow over everything, making the day feel unusually long and painfully lonely.

Entering the library, I spotted Kai at a table near the back, surrounded by books and notes. He looked up and waved me over with a relieved smile.

“Hey, Y/N!” Kai greeted me. “Thanks for coming. I really need your help with this science project, and… you know, the other thing.”

“Of course,” I replied, setting my bag down and pulling out my notebook. “Let’s get started.”

As we began reviewing the material, I noticed Toru entering the library. He paused at the entrance, his eyes scanning the room. When he saw me and Kai sitting close together, his expression shifted. Instead of approaching, he decided to observe from a distance, his curiosity and jealousy piqued.

“So…do you think Amai likes coffee or tea better? I’m thinking about asking her if she’d like to get something with me sometime this week…or maybe next week.” Kai asked, glancing at his notes to mask the question.

I leaned in, whispering back, “Probably tea. She seems like a tea person.”

Kai chuckled, shaking his head. “You think so? What makes you so sure?”

I gasped dramatically, placing a hand over my heart in an exaggerated manner. “You doubt my finely honed abilities to discern whether someone prefers coffee or tea? That is blasphemous!” I declared with mock seriousness, a playful glint in my eyes. “My skills in beverage detection are unparalleled. I can read the subtle signs and nuances of a person’s taste preferences with unmatched precision.”

Kai laughed, leaning back in his chair. "Alright, alright, I believe you. I just want to make sure I do this right. I don’t want to mess up any opportunities given to me."

I smiled reassuringly, leaning in a bit closer. "You won't mess this up, Kai. Just be yourself and show genuine interest in her. Trust me, Amai will appreciate the effort and sincerity. And remember, you've got me in your corner to help you out."

Kai's expression softened, his nervousness giving way to a grateful smile. "Thanks, Y/N. That means a lot. I guess I just need to relax and take it one step at a time."

I nodded, feeling a surge of warmth from our friendship. "Exactly. And who knows, maybe this will be the start of something really great for you."

Toru found a spot behind a bookshelf where he could watch us without being seen. He noticed the way Kai leaned in close, and how I responded with a smile and a laugh. His grip on his bag tightened as he tried to make sense of our interaction.

We both giggled at our own seriousness, finding some levity in the situation. Toru, catching the intimate nature of our conversation but not the details, felt his jealousy deepen. He struggled to maintain his composure as he watched us from the shadows.

“What the hell could he be saying to make you smile like that?” He thought

Kai nudged me, his voice low. “Do you think Amai likes science fiction? I’m thinking of recommending a book.”

I leaned in closer, whispering, “Yeah, I think she does. She mentioned something about liking scientific settings in our last class. Maybe you should talk with her about what her favorite book is or something amongst those lines.”

Toru’s eyes narrowed as he watched us, feeling a pang of jealousy. The way we were huddled together, whispering and laughing, was unsettling for him. What was going on between you two?

Kai looked at me with a mixture of hope and nervousness. “Do you think it’s too soon to ask Amai about her favorite books?”

I shook my head, smiling reassuringly. "Not at all. In fact, asking about her favorite books is a great way to show you’re interested in her likes and dislikes. It will make her feel appreciated."

Kai’s face lit up with relief. "Right. You’re right… I just… I don’t want her to think I’m some sort of creep."

I laughed, rubbing my hand on his shoulder, trying my best to reassure him. "For asking her about her favorite book? Kai, I think you’re being too hard on yourself. You aren’t going to sound like a creep as long as you don’t ask too many personal questions. Just keep it simple!"

Kai nodded, a smile spreading across his face. "Okay, got it. Keep it simple and genuine."

I patted his shoulder encouragingly. "Exactly. You're going to do great, Kai. Like I said, just be yourself and let the conversation flow naturally. Amai will see the real you, and that's what matters most."

He took a deep breath, seeming more at ease. "Thanks, Y/N. I really appreciate your help. I don’t know what I’d do without you."

I grinned, feeling the bond of our friendship strengthen. "Anytime, Kai. I'm always here for you. Now, let's get back to this science project and make sure we ace it."

As you two continued discussing both the science project and Kai’s plans for Amai, Aksana entered the library. She spotted Toru almost immediately and saw him staring at you. With a determined look, she walked straight over to him, her books clutched to her chest.

Toru continued to watch you and Kai, his frustration growing as he struggled to understand your guys’ interaction. Just then, Aksana appeared beside him, noticing his distraction.

"Hey, Toru, can you help me with my homework again? I’m really struggling to understand it," Aksana said, effectively blocking his view of me and Kai.

Toru hesitated, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer. He wanted to focus on our interaction, to understand what was going on between us.

"Uh... sorry, Aksana, but I am actually—" he began, trying to excuse himself.

"Oh, please, Toru? I really need you!" she begged, sitting down next to him and effectively blocking his view of me and Kai.

He felt a surge of annoyance but forced a polite smile, trying to be nice despite his reluctance. "Alright, Aksana. What do you need help with?" he asked, though his thoughts were still preoccupied with me and Kai.

I glanced over, catching a glimpse of Toru and Aksana together. My chest tightened as I saw them, their heads close together as they worked on her assignment. The way his arm grazed against hers, the way his eyes looked at hers—it all made my stomach churn with an unfamiliar pang of jealousy.

Kai noticed my distraction and gently nudged me. “You okay, Y/N?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I replied, forcing a smile. “Let’s get back to work.”

We continued studying, but I couldn’t help stealing glances at Toru and Aksana. Every time I looked over, they seemed more engrossed in their conversation, making my heart sink a little further.

The image of them laughing together left a bitter taste in my mouth. The day that had started with a missed connection now felt even more complicated and heavy.

I glanced over again, catching a moment where Aksana playfully nudged Toru. He smiled politely, but there was something distant in his eyes, a flicker of the tension I knew he was trying to hide. Yet, the way they interacted still made my heart clench with jealousy.

Kai’s voice pulled me back to our conversation. “So, when do you think is the best time to ask Amai about her interests? I don’t want to come off too strong.”

“Maybe start with something light,” I suggested, trying to keep my focus. “Talk about school, then gradually bring up hobbies and books. It will feel more natural that way.”

Kai nodded, absorbing my advice. We continued to work, but my mind kept drifting. I noticed that Toru would occasionally glance my way, his expression unreadable. Each time our eyes almost met, Aksana would say something to draw his attention back to her.

Eventually, Kai suggested a break. “Hey, Y/N, why don’t we take a break and go to the café down the street? My treat for all the help you’ve been to me.” Toru’s expression darkened as he overheard Kai’s suggestion. The mention of our usual spot hit him hard. He watched as I hesitated, torn between helping Kai and the implications it might have for Toru. Maybe it would be for the best. It would help keep my mind off of him and Aksana.

“Sure, Kai. Thanks,” I finally said, trying to keep my tone neutral.

Kai beamed, completely oblivious to the tension. “Great! Let’s go.”

We packed up our things and headed out, leaving Toru and Aksana behind. Toru watched you both leave, his hand breaking his pencil in half from the jealousy and frustration he felt.

*****

I stirred my tea with my straw, struggling to drink it as I was lost in thought. My mind kept drifting back to Toru and Aksana, and the unsettling feelings it stirred within me. Kai took notice of my distraction and leaned in, concern etched on his face.

“What’s up, Y/N? You seem really out of it,” Kai asked gently.

“Oh, it’s nothing, Kai. Really,” I replied, trying to brush off my feelings with a weak smile.

“Come on, I know self-deception better than anyone. Now, what’s going on?” he pressed, his tone sincere and encouraging.

I sighed, putting down my straw and looking up at Kai. His eyes were filled with genuine concern, and I knew I couldn’t hide my feelings any longer. “It’s just… seeing Toru with Aksana today. It made me realize how much I miss talking to him. We didn’t even get to see each other at all today, and it felt so… empty.”

Kai nodded thoughtfully, a hint of realization dawning in his eyes. “Do you… like him?” he asked, a small smile making its way to his face as he saw me look away from him.

I felt my cheeks heat up, and I avoided his gaze, fiddling with my straw. “I… I don’t know, Kai,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Oh, so you do like him!” he yelled, his eyes lighting up at the news.

“Will you keep it down, Kai?! The whole world doesn’t need to know!” I exclaimed, placing my hands over his mouth to muffle his excitement. My heart raced at the thought of anyone else overhearing our conversation.

Kai laughed, gently moving my hands away. “Alright, alright, I’ll keep it quiet. But wow, Y/N, this is big! No wonder you seemed so distracted today.”

I sighed, my shoulders slumping as I looked down at my untouched tea. “Yeah, it’s a lot. But just looking at him makes me feel so happy. His smile, his voice, his eyes…even his dumb jokes and antics make my heart flutter.

Kai laughed, making me look up at him.

”Why don’t you tell him?”

”I tried! But every time I try to, its like the universe always seems to find a way to stop it from happening.” I explained.

”Not only that… but stupid Aksana keeps butting in, so I can never get any time alone with him,” I finished, frustration evident in my voice.

As Kai was about to say something, he noticed the weather changing. The clouds began to circle around in the sky, making him look down at me with concern.

“Uh… Y/N?” he asked, pointing towards the outside.

I turned and rolled my eyes, realizing what was happening. “Damnit. Sorry,” I said, quickly taking a deep breath to regain control. Within a few seconds, the clouds disappeared and the sun began to shine once more.

Kai watched in awe, his expression a mix of surprise and admiration. “Wow, you really do have a unique and powerful cursed technique. I forget sometimes.”

I shrugged, feeling a bit embarrassed. “Yeah, it tends to react to my emotions. It’s something I’ve been trying to control better. But now Im seeing that I need to work harder on that…especially if something like this is getting to me.”

“Don’t feel bad about it. Love is a powerful thing. It can make even the strongest of people lose control.” He said, making me ponder.

”Listen, thank you for the tea, Kai. It was so sweet of you…but I better get going. I have some things I need to sleep on tonight. How about we meet tomorrow during lunch and we can go over the plan some more and you can finally get some interaction with her.” I said, quickly leaving the cafe, not giving him any time to respond.

As I stepped outside, the fresh air helped clear my mind. I walked all the way back to my home, my thoughts swirling with everything that had happened. Once inside, I went straight to my room and face-planted into the bed, letting out a long, frustrated sigh.

As I lay there, the events of the day replayed in my mind. Every missed chance to talk to him, every moment he spent with Aksana instead of me—it all seemed to point to one conclusion. What if the universe was trying to tell me something? What if Toru and I were never meant to be more than friends?

I shook my head, trying to push those thoughts away. I couldn’t give up so easily. I needed to talk to Toru, to clear the air and find out how he really felt. But the fear of rejection, of ruining our friendship, weighed heavily on my heart.

Rolling onto my back, I stared up at the ceiling, Why did things have to be so complicated? All I wanted was to be close to Toru, to share everything with him, to hear his voice….I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing thoughts. “Get a grip, Y/N,” I muttered to myself.

I don’t know whats going to happen to us in the future…but I do know that I am going to make sure I get alone time with Toru tomorrow…no matter what. I need to see him…and just him. With that resolve in mind, I closed my eyes and tried to drift off to sleep.

—With Satoru—

“I don’t know what the fuck to do, Suguru! It’s like he’s completely replaced me!” Satoru exclaimed, running his hand through his hair in frustration. The usually composed and confident young man was now a bundle of nerves, his eyes reflecting the turmoil he felt inside.

Suguru leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching his friend with a mixture of concern and sympathy. “Calm down, Satoru. Tell me what’s going on.”

Satoru sighed, pacing the room. “It’s Y/N. I’ve barely gotten to spend time with her, if any at all. She’s too preoccupied with that boy Kai. It’s like she doesn’t even notice me anymore. And seeing them together... it hurts, Suguru. It fucking hurts.” The words tumbled out of him in a rush, each one laced with the raw pain of unrequited love and the sting of jealousy.

Suguru nodded, understanding the depth of his friend’s anguish. He had witnessed the way Satoru looked at you, talked about you, even thought about you. He knew how much you meant to him. “Okay, first, you need to try and relax man-“

”How can you say that? You know how I feel about her. There’s not a day that goes by where I don’t think about her. I miss her so much…I love her so much.” He started, looking down at his bandaged arm where you helped him. The memory of your gentle touch and kind words only made the pain sharper.

”i just…I thought maybe she might’ve felt the same for me.” He said, his voice breaking in defeat. Suguru lifted himself off the wall and walked towards his best friend, placing a hand on his shoulder.

”Listen man, I get it. I know how much you love her, and maybe it feels like she’s slipping away. But I feel like all of this is just a big misunderstanding. Maybe there’s something going on between those two that you don’t know of.”

”Like what? Like them dating? Do you think they are dating?” Satoru interrupted, his eyes widening in fear at the realization. The mere thought of you being with someone else made his heart ache with a pain he couldn’t bear.

”What? No! I'm just saying that maybe there is more to the story than you think. You need to talk to her. You need to finally let her know how you feel. Maybe then…all will be revealed.” He suggested. To be honest, Suguru wasn’t sure what you were doing either. He could’ve sworn you were absolutely head over heels for Satoru just as much as he was for you…did he interpret your feelings wrong? Could it be true that you moved on from his best friend to another boy?

“It’s not that simple,” Satoru replied, his voice tinged with desperation. “Every time I get close, something or someone gets in the way. Trust me, I want to tell her! I want to be with her so bad, to just hear her beautiful voice, see her beautiful smile… but instead, I end up seeing her with Kai...and hes the one getting all of those things that I want. it’s like a knife to the heart.”

Suguru placed a reassuring hand on Satoru’s shoulder. “Then make her see it. Show her what she’s missing.”

Satoru's eyes lit up with an idea. “You’re right. Maybe if she sees me with someone else, she’ll realize what she’s missing. Maybe I need to make her jealous.”

Suguru’s eyes widened in alarm. “No, that’s not what I meant! I was trying to say that you need to be honest with her, not play games.”

But Satoru, being himself, was already forming a plan in his head. “Thanks, Suguru! You’re a genius. I’ll show her that I can move on too. Maybe then she’ll realize how much she misses me.”

“Satoru, you fucking idiot, wait—” Suguru began, but it was too late. Satoru was already heading out the door, determined to put his plan into action.

Ignoring Suguru’s protests, Satoru sought out Aksana. If making Y/N jealous was the way to get her attention, then he would go all in.

*****

It didn’t take too long before Satoru found Aksana. There she was, in the library, engrossed in a book.

“Aksana, hey,” Satoru said, putting on his most charming smile.

Aksana looked up, surprised. “Oh, hi, Satoru. What’s up?”

“Do you want to hang out? Maybe grab a coffee or something?” Satoru asked, trying to sound casual.

Aksana’s face held a sinister smirk. Had all the work she put into getting close to Satoru finally paid off? “Sure, I’d love to,” she replied, her voice dripping with satisfaction as she sensed an opportunity unfolding before her.

As they walked out together, Satoru couldn’t help but glance around, hoping Y/N would see them. Suguru’s words echoed in his mind, but he pushed them aside. This had to work. Y/N had to realize what she was missing.

Meanwhile, Suguru watched from a distance, shaking his head. “This is going to backfire spectacularly,” he muttered to himself. He could only hope that Satoru would come to his senses before it was too late.

”What the hell is he doing?” Shoko asked, showing up out of nowhere. Suguru looked down at her and shook his head.

”Something he's going to regret.”

—With you—

Well…your plan to get alone time with Toru plan went to shit. Weeks had passed, and you hadn't had a single opportunity to be alone with Toru. Each time you attempted to get close, someone inevitably interrupted—most often Aksana. It was almost as if she had a sixth sense for when you wanted to speak with him because she was perpetually by his side. The way she clung to him made it appear as though he were her boyfriend, the two of them always in close physical proximity. People around you even started saying how cute of a couple they would be.

If you wanted to talk to him before class, it was too late—Aksana had already walked with him to school before you even had a chance. Trying to catch him during lunch was futile because Aksana had preemptively whisked him away to a nice place to eat. Attempting to speak to him after school was equally hopeless since she was already monopolizing his time, ostensibly to get help with her “homework.” It was driving your emotions into turmoil, and consequently, the weather seemed to mirror your inner state.

Days that were forecasted to be sunny turned out to be rainy, and days that were supposed to be mildly windy saw unexpectedly strong gusts. There were even some days that would have a mix of both snow and rain. All because of you. Shoko, Kai, and Suguru quickly noticed the change in you and attempted to reach out, but you were so consumed by your own emotions that you began to shut them out. The frustration and longing were driving you to the brink of insanity, and you could feel your sanity slipping away with each passing day.

What made matters worse was that you started to notice how much closer Toru and Aksana were getting. Almost too close. You still remember the day you were in the lunchroom with Kai, preparing him to go talk to Amai, only to see Toru and Aksana leaving the school premises together. They were laughing with one another, their heads close as they shared a private joke. The sight made your heart ache, a deep, painful throb that you couldn’t ignore.

Kai, noticed your sudden silence, and he followed your gaze. “Hey, are you okay?” he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

You tore your eyes away from the scene, forcing a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you lied, the words tasting bitter in your mouth. “Just lost in thought.”

Kai gave you a skeptical look but didn’t press further. “Well, if you need to talk, you know I’m here for you, right?”You nodded, appreciating his support but feeling helpless. “Thanks, Kai. I appreciate it.”

As the days passed, the growing closeness between Toru and Aksana became increasingly difficult to ignore. They seemed inseparable, and every time you saw them together, it felt like a dagger twisting in your heart. You felt a mix of emotions—hurt, jealousy, and a strange sense of betrayal. Why was Satoru spending time with Aksana? Had you misread the situation all along? Did Satoru really not feel the same about you as you did about him? The thought was almost too painful to bear. You could’ve sworn he…you thought he…well maybe…maybe he just didn’t love you after all….

*****

The following day, you decided to go to the cafeteria to grab something quick to eat. You and Kai were close to being done with the science project, and he and Amai were becoming closer and closer each day. He managed to build up enough courage to take her out to eat, so you were left alone. Now, you had some time all to yourself to just relax. It was a rare moment, but it meant that you got to actually sit with Shoko, Suguru, and Satoru.

As you made your way, the cafeteria’s usual cacophony of voices and clattering dishes seemed to fade into the background. You spotted Shoko and Suguru sitting together, but no sign of Toru. You went over to the table Shoko and Suguru were at, and forced a smile, trying to shake off the sense of dread that had been gnawing at you. As you sat down, you heard Toru’s voice from afar. Your eyes involuntarily drifted to the direction of his voice and found Toru and Aksana entering the lunchroom, talking amongst themselves about something random.

They were standing close, their heads almost touching as they shared a private joke, their laughter mingling with the ambient noise but somehow standing out painfully to your ears. The sight made your stomach churn with jealousy and hurt, a physical manifestation of the emotional turmoil that had become all too familiar.

Every giggle from Aksana and every smile from Toru felt like a dagger to your heart. The way they seemed so at ease with each other, so effortlessly close, was unbearable. You had always cherished the moments when Toru smiled at you like that, but now those moments seemed to be slipping away, replaced by this growing bond between him and Aksana. It was a bitter pill to swallow, seeing someone else enjoy what you longed for so deeply.

Suguru, sitting across from you, noticed your pained expression and turned to look at Toru and Aksana. He scoffed in disgust, completely in disbelief at what his best friend was doing. “Unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head in frustration. He couldn’t fathom how Toru could be so oblivious to your feelings, so wrapped up in his plan to make you jealous that he didn’t notice the hurt he was causing you.

Shoko, on the other hand, looked like she was ready to strangle both Toru and Aksana. Her eyes narrowed in anger as she watched them, her fists clenched tightly on the table. “This has to stop,” she whispered to Suguru fiercely, her voice barely containing her rage. She had seen the toll this situation was taking on you and it infuriated her to see her friend in such pain.

Both Suguru and Shoko had witnessed your frustration and heartbreak over the past few weeks. They had seen the light dim in your eyes and the smile that no longer reached your lips. It pained them to see you like this, to see someone they cared about suffering in silence. They exchanged a look, silently agreeing that something needed to be done to end this misery.

“Hey, Y/N,” Shoko said, her voice softer now as she turned her attention to you. “Are you okay?” Her eyes were filled with concern, and you could tell she was genuinely worried about you.

You forced a smile, trying to mask the turmoil inside. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you lied, though your voice betrayed your true feelings. The lump in your throat made it hard to speak, and you could feel the tears threatening to spill over, but you fought to keep them at bay.

Suguru leaned forward, his expression serious and earnest. “You don’t have to put up with this, you know. We’re here for you,” he said, his tone comforting yet firm. He wanted you to know that you weren’t alone, that you had friends who cared about you and wanted to help.

And you were grateful. Truly. But the emotions were overwhelming, and you couldn’t bear to delve into them any further. You sighed deeply and placed your head in your hands, trying to steady your breathing. “Can we not talk about this… please?” you asked, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions. The sight of Toru and Aksana together was like a constant reminder of what you couldn’t have, and it was tearing you apart. You just needed a break. A break from it all.

“Of course...” Shoko replied softly, her worry for you still evident in her eyes. She exchanged a glance with Suguru, both of them silently agreeing to shift the conversation away from the topic that was causing you so much pain.

“Well, how about we talk about training then?” Suguru suggested, his tone lightening in an attempt to lift the mood. “I heard Sensei Yaga is having all of us go out later today for a practice exam on our form to see where we are at.”

Your eyes widened in surprise and mild panic. Was that today? Just when you thought you might get a break, now you were bombarded with the realization that you had to use your abilities to get a good grade. The stress of everything was beginning to weigh heavily on you, and the thought of the upcoming practice exam only added to your anxiety.

“Great,” you muttered, your voice tinged with sarcasm. “Just when I thought I could relax, now I have to worry about my form and performance.” You ran a hand through your hair, feeling the tension building up inside you.

Suguru gave you a sympathetic smile. “I know it’s a lot, but maybe it’ll be a good distraction. Focusing on training could help take your mind off things for a bit.”

“Yeah, and you’re really good,” Shoko added, her tone encouraging. “You always impress Sensei Yaga. Just think of it as another chance to show what you can do.”

You nodded, appreciating their attempts to cheer you up. “I guess you’re right. It’s just… everything feels so overwhelming right now. I’ll try to focus on the training and give it my best shot.”

As the conversation shifted to the details of the practice exam and various training techniques, you found yourself gradually relaxing. It wasn’t a complete escape from your thoughts about Toru and Aksana, but it was a temporary reprieve. For now, you could channel your energy into preparing for the exam and proving your skills.

The laughter and chatter of the cafeteria buzzed around you, blending into the background as you listened to Shoko and Suguru discuss strategies and tips. You took a deep breath, letting their words wash over you, and tried to find some semblance of peace in the midst of the chaos that had become your life.

Just then, your phone buzzed with a new message. Glancing at the screen, you saw it was from Kai. His words caught your attention right away.

“Meet me before our practice exam today. I’m going to finally ask Amai out… and to the dance… but I want to practice what I’m going to say. I need you to pretend to be her,” he wrote.

Despite the whirlwind of emotions you were feeling, a small smile grew on your face. At least someone in your life was going to have a good ending… hopefully. The idea of helping Kai with his romantic plans provided a glimmer of positivity in your otherwise turbulent day. It was a reminder that not everything was bleak and that happiness was still possible for those around you.

You quickly replied, typing out a response with a renewed sense of purpose. “Sure, I’ll meet you in our science class. We can practice there,” you texted back, feeling a bit lighter.

“Y/n…we need to tell you something. It’s about Satoru and what he’s been doing. Just please be ready to-“ Suguru started before being cut off by your voice.

“Hey guys, it was wonderful talking to you both… but something just came up and I gotta go. I’ll see you guys later today!” you said, not hearing a word they were saying before getting up and leaving, trying to muster the enthusiasm you no longer felt.

As you walked away, Toru’s eyes followed you, noticing the small smile on your face that barely masked your true feelings. His heart began to race with anticipation, a flicker of hope igniting within him. Were you finally going to come to him? Were you going to hug him and let him hear your voice that he had been longing for? He missed the way you used to laugh, the way you used to share everything with him.

Just as you made it a few feet away from him, your eyes locked with his, making both of you pause. For a brief moment, the world seemed to stand still, and all the noise of the cafeteria faded into the background. His heart pounded in his chest, a flicker of hope igniting within him. This was the moment he had been waiting for, the moment he had dreamed about during the countless sleepless nights. He wanted to reach out to you, to bridge the painful gap that had grown between you.

However, before he could make a move, you averted your eyes and walked in the opposite direction, directly ignoring him. He felt his heart shatter right then and there from your actions. The small glimmer of hope that had sparked in his heart was extinguished in an instant. Every step you took away from him felt like a crushing blow, each one more painful than the last. The rejection was a raw, agonizing wound that left him reeling.

“Y/n…” He muttered under his breath.

—————

Part IV coming soon!

Taglist: @goreedo11

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newwritergirl · 3 days

Text

Starting over | Part 16

Materlist

Summary: With Jake and Bradley deployed y/n can't help herself but count the days when they're finally back home. But when mysterious messages appear on her phone and a sleazy guy gets a bit too close to her she once more realize how her safety depends on the both pilots she dearly loves. Thank God she has a safety net and friends at base.

Trigger Warnings: 18+! Minors DNI! past abusive relationship, reader has health issues (migraine, kidney), throwing up, previous assault, blood, obstrusive man, poly relationship

A/N: It gets angsty! Please tell me if you like it and rebelog my little story. Thank you for the support :)

Word Count: 3.9k +

The day of Jake and Bradley’s departure came quicker than the three of them anticipated. Y/n wasn’t able to sleep that night, tossing and turning, changing her position ever so often, touching her lovers to memorize every inch of their bodies.

And now standing in the kitchen watching both pilots taking their bags into the trunk of Jake’s truck the whole situation is sinking in. She will be alone for the next two weeks, maybe longer.

Since she left the hospital after surviving the last attack of her boyfriend and the mayor operation marathon she endured to save her kidney she wasn’t alone. She lived for some weeks with the family of her former boss and after her physiotherapy she moved to Miramar immediately living with Rooster and Hangman. It would be a lie to say that she isn’t afraid to be on her own. She fears the lonely nights, laying in the dark alone with her thoughts and memories with no one there to hold her after a nightmare or to hold her in general. While drinking her coffee she gives herself a pep talk for the upcoming farewell. ‘Don’t let on anything. You’re a grown up woman. You can do this. They’re highly decorated Navy aviators, you can’t burden them with your fears shortly before their departure.’

---

“And if there’s a problem…anything you need help with… Mav is there, you can call him or Penny anytime! Bob also said that he can come over if you need someone…”

“Jakey, slow down. I’m not a child…” Y/n tries to calm the blonde pilot down. But he just interrupts her attempt to lighten the mood. “Of course you’re not. But imagine you feeling sick or what if you pass out because of a migraine or your kidney acting up…y/n, we’re just worried. And with limited phone reception on the carrier we would feel better when we know that you will call Bob, Coyote, Penny or Mav. Please baby.” Jake looks deep into her eyes, she sees the worry in them. She is also worried but tries her hardest to hide it in front of them.

She feels Bradley enveloping her with his muscular arms behind so that she’s now fully secured between the two men.

“What Jake wanted to say is: We love you, princess.” He speaks softly into her ear his warm breath making her shudder.

“But we have to go now. Otherwise the Admiral will have our asses for being too late for the departure.”

The two men once more tighten their hug kissing the smaller woman passionately.

She watches Jake’s truck disappearing down the street. She stands there in the driveway for some more minutes until the cold wind produces goosebumps on her entire body and her body starts to shiver form the cold and from the loneliness which slowly settles into her heart. She smells the lingering odor of both her boyfriends on her skin. She loves when their aftershaves mix up into a fully new smell and when she can smell it on her own skin after they cuddled. The delicious sore feeling from their intense night together lets her lips form into a soft smile. She’s not lonely they’re still here with every breath and step she takes in their shared home. They will be back and then their relationship will be just as strong as before or even stronger. With a heavy heart but a small smile on her lips she closes the front door behind her soaking into the warmth of the cozy house.

A cup of tea sounds like a good idea to calm her nerves. Standing on her tip toes to reach her favorite cup a small sticky note on the inside of the cupboard door attracts her attention.

A huge smile is spreading over her face, she takes the sticky note from the cardboard door and sticks it on the coffee maker, that way she can always read the note and admire the accurate handwriting of Bradley. She’s the luckiest woman on earth, finally.

You probably are trying to reach one of the cups, standing on your tip toes stretching out your right arm. Usually one of us would come to your aid or to tease you. Enveloping you in our arms, kissing the top of your head, inhaling your intoxicating scent.

We love you <3 JB

---

Her first day back at the base after her short sick leave and her boys leaving was better than she expected. Her day was busy and with Bob bringing her a cup of steaming hot coffee in the morning just the way she likes it and how Rooster would’ve done it she was able to stay alert and awake during a long video call with a software company. But to be honest she nearly hasn’t slept that night. Her brain was a spiraling mess, thinking of Bradley and Rooster, but she was also nervous to run into Welsh at base. After their encounter the other day when he had to take her home, his slimy hand touching her arm and his inappropriate comment in the car, she doesn’t want to see him let alone run into him alone.

Now sipping her second coffee in the late morning she wonders if her two boyfriends had a similar hard night, at least they have themselves. Her vibrating mobile is bringing her out her daydream. When she looks at the display a bright smile forms on her face.

Jakey: Hello love, we’re about to leave the coastland to start with the flight training. Soon there will be no phone reception. We just wanted to make sure you’re ok. We love you.

Her smile grows brighter when she looks at the attached photo Jake sent her. The blonde and the brunette aviator in their flight suits smiling at her, in the background nothing but the endless blue sea.

Y/n: You two look really stunning. I’m so proud of my two Navy men <3 Everything is good back home. Please just come back in one piece, I need you. Both! I love you. Please tell Roo-y I love him, too. Take care. I think of you!

Jakey: Roo-y says he loves you, too! Take care yourself. In case you need anything, call Penny, Mav or the two idiots that stayed back at the base :-P we have to go. Love you so much!

A loud knock is startling her, shouting a small ‘come in’ she is greeted by the last person she wants to see right now, especially when she’s alone in her office. What does he want from her? She puts her mobile away, not risking that this sleazy guy sees the adorable selfie of Hangman and Rooster on her phone.

“Well, isn’t this a sight for sore eyes. You feeling better, y/n? This migraine must’ve hit you hard.” Welsh voice makes her shudder which doesn’t go unnoticed by the taller man, perfectly noticing how the woman in front of him shrinks further into her chair as if she wants to hide herself behind her big wooden desk.

“Yes, Sir. Thank you.” She talks in a small voice.

“Good, good. Finally you have this big and cozy house for yourself, with Rooster and Hangman deployed. I bet the first night was a huge relief.” Welsh asks in an amused tone. Of course the first night was far away from a relief. At first y/n tried to settle down in her own bed but after tossing and turning she wandered into Jake’s bedroom to grad his pillow and went straight into Bradley’s bedroom to sleep in his bed with Jake’s pillow in her arms. That way she could be near both of them. Their familiar scents united created a small feeling of safety in the dark and lonely night.

What does he want to hear from her? She tries to gather her thoughts not to show this man any weakness. But before she can form a suitable answer she’s saved by the bell.

“Hey y/n. You ready for lunch?” She hears Javy’s voice before she can see him enter her office.

“Welsh. What ya doin’ here? Mav is looking for ya…” Javy’s voice immediately changes from friendly to professional and even colder as he looks at the man towering over y/n’s desk.

Daniel straightens his posture but before he turns around to leave the younger woman’s office he winks at her and lowers his voice. “See you later, darling.” Too hushed to be heard by Javy but loud enough for y/n to hear.

She gulps at his words. He has this dangerous aura she’s more than familiar with thanks to her ex.

Javy steps into Welsh’s way bumping slightly into his shoulder. “Keep track of your own appointments, Lieutenant. We’re not your secretary.”

“Yes, Lieutenant Commander.” Welsh replies in an annoyed tone but formal when Coyote pulled ranks.

---

Y/n’s lunch date with Bob and Javy really helped to get her nerves under control after Welsh’s performance in her office today. She just hoped that the two didn’t notice how she played with her food, just shoving it on her plate from left to right. She didn’t build a huge appetite with her boyfriends away and the dreading prospect of coming back to an empty home later that day.

Now utterly exhausted she’s sitting on the huge couch snuggled under the cozy blanket Jake bought for her last Christmas, reading the second note which she found in the snack drawer where Bradley stored his favorite protein bars. Not on the mood to cook something she was in search of something to munch on while lounging on the couch.

On the verge of falling asleep her vibrating mobile gains her attention. She really hopes for another message from her boys but that was likely unrealistic with them in the middle of the Pacific.

I knew you would steeal my banana protein bars in our absence :-P What have I done to deserve two little thieves.

I love u.

Jake says eat as much protein bars as you can. Love <3 JB

She grabs the device from the coffee table curious who would’ve texted her that late in the evening.

The message from an unknown number makes her frown.

Unknown: You looked so hot today in your cute office outfit. You should wear that tight skirt more often.

Her hands begin to tremble that must be a mistake. Who would text her something like that? The person on the other end probably made a mistake while typing in the number and now she got that message accidently. Just as she wants to put her phone away and get ready for another lonely night in Bradley’s bed her mobile chirps with another incoming message.

Unknown: Didn’t think of you as a classic car kind of girl. But that Bronco looks good on you.

The last straw that the message could’ve been a mistake is brutally cut when she reads the next one. Bradley left her his beloved Bronco so she can drive to base and get grocery shopping or whatever she wants to do safely and doesn’t have to rely on Bob or Javy to drive her. At first she was hesitant to drive his beloved car but Bradley told her more than once that he insists that she drives his Bronco and he made it more than clear that he trusts her with his baby.

Panic bubbles in chest. Someone watches her, the person saw her in the Bronco driving home or to the base, saw her outfit. Is this person watching her now? Hiding in the dark? She jumps up from her position on the couch and hurries to the front door checking the locks. They’re closed, thank God. She closed all curtains in every room and when she finally crawls into Bradley’s bed, after she even locked the bedroom door, she can’t hold back her tears anymore. She is afraid, more than that. She’s terrified.

---

Y/n wakes up with a jolt. The bedroom pitch black and her eyes need some time to adjust and make out the familiar furniture. What woke her up in the middle of the night? But before she can wonder any further the door knob jiggles. Someone is trying to enter the bedroom.

“Y/n, come on open the door, I know that you’re in there.”

She knows that voice. No, no, no, that can’t be true. He can’t be in their house, not now.

Frantically she searches for some kind of weapon to defend herself. But when she turns around to look at the bedroom door he’s already inside the room.

"I'm here to take you home, silly girl." His dark eyes nothing but dangerous and filled with hate. She got so used to the warm love filled eyes of Jake and Bradley. But the ones that are piercing her now are cold and she knows that look, it's full of rage.

How did he get past the safety locks at the front door and how did he even open the lock of the bedroom door? She feels like his prey sitting in a trap. His body fills the doorframe, blocking her only way out of the room. On trembling legs y/n backs off but there's nowhere to go for her. He finally gets what he wants, either he kills her right there or he takes her back to their hometown. If she has the choice she would choose death over going back with him. But she has no choice, never had. He once more has her life in his hand.

"You not only cheated with one but with two men? Y/n, that's not how I taught you to behave. You should know what treatment sluts like you deserve." He takes a step closer to the trembling woman. A shimmering object in his right hand attracts her attention. It's a knife, a huge kitchen knife. It's the same knife he attacked her with back home, still bloody. Thick droplets of blood are dripping from the blade on the hardwood floor.

A loud scream echoes trough the bedroom the young woman feels herself shaking like a leaf, drenched in sweat, sheets tangled around her body. All she hears is the blood rushing in her ears. Her heart nearly beating out of her chest. Her lungs seem to refuse to work, like someone is crushing her ribcage. Spots are dancing in her vision and she knows she has to try to take prober breaths otherwise she is going to pass out from oxygen deprivation. The small woman fists one of the pillows in her shaking hands in an attempt to ground herself. She has to overcome this panic attack alone, but her thoughts are with Bradley and Jake, thinking about their happy times, smiling and laughing. Their beautiful laughs, their calming touches, their words of endearment. Y/n doesn't know how long it took her to finally be calm enough to take her first steady breath. The first thing she hears is her alarm annoyingly blaring, signaling her it's time to get up. It's already morning, thank God. Going back to sleep seems so far away after this nightmare that she's somewhat relieved that it's already time to get ready and head to work. With her still trembling hands she shuts the alarm off, but as she sees an unread message her breathing picks up one more time.

A sigh of relief tumbles out of her mouth when she reads the sender of the message.

Bobby: Hey y/n, sorry I forgot to ask you earlier. Coyote and I want to hit the Hard Deck after work, I can fetch you in the morning, in that case you don't have to drive tomorrow to work and to the Hard Deck. I would be at your place at 0715.

---

When she is finally buckled in Bob's car it's the first time she can breathe a bit better, feeling a bit safer in the presence of a Navy Lieutenant and friend.

A soft 'good morning' fills the car, not trusting her voice to speak more words after screaming bloody murder an hour ago. She still feels a slight tremble in her hands. Not only the dream has her so shaken up but the messages from that unknown number make her even more uneasy. Who's watching her? It can't be her ex. He doesn't know where she lives now. And he is still in prison, isn't he?

"Y/n? Everything okay?" Bob turns in his seat to take a proper look at her.

His soft voice brings her out of her thoughts.

"Ehm, yes. Sure. Everything's fine." She tries to talk as calm and collected as she can, not wanting to alert the good-natured aviator in the driver seat.

"You sure? I said your name like ten times." He once more takes a look at her, noticing her pale face and the dark circles under her eyes.

"Sorry, I'm just tired, Bobby. Nothing serious, pinky promise." She hates to lie at her friend, hell she hates to lie in general. But her need to not make a fuss, to not burden other people with her problems is often bigger than her need to be honest.

For now Bob let's her excuse pass but he will keep a close eye on her, even more than usual.

---

Sipping her favorite drink y/n feels a bit better than hours ago in the morning after her nightmare. Bob and Javy are always good company and so far she liked the distraction of her two friends and the hustle and bustle of the packed bar. But without the other aviators, especially without her two boyfriends, there's definitely a huge part missing.

"I'm still wondering how you do it, sunshine." Javy spoke over the music and the loud voices in the packed bar, bringing y/n out of her revive.

A curious frown is splayed on the young woman's face.

"I mean, you really brought some peace and quiet into our squad. Since you're living with Hangman and Roo, their constant bickering and dick-measuring contests nearly stopped."

Y/n can't hold the amused laugh that tumbles out of her mouth. "Javy, watch your mouth." She playfully hit the taller pilot on his arm. But he is right, since the young woman lives with the two men their behavior somewhat changed drastically. Of course the hostility they had during the fateful uranium mission was long gone before y/n stepped into their life, but obviously their friendship deepened in a special way since the shy woman is part of the group. The other aviators surely didn't miss the huge protectiveness Jake and Bradley have over their new addition, y/n just fits in perfectly in the Bradshaw/Seresin household. Y/n wonders if Javy wants to imply that he supposes that three of them are now in a relationship. Until now the three kept their love life a secret, well except for Natasha who gave the last shove in the right direction.

"Hey, got a strong right hook, y/n." The dark haired man rubs his arm as if she hurt him really bad.

"What this moron wanted to say is, you're good for them." Bob barges in looking intensively at the now blushing woman.

"Thanks, I guess?" She says slightly uncertain. "They're the best that ever happened to me. You all are…" Y/n admits in nothing more than a whisper.

Bob puts his larger hand on her right one which is placed on the table beside her now empty glass. When he softly squeezes her hand he adds a quiet 'we support you, no matter what'.

Her heart skips a beat, so they all seem somehow to know or feel that Jake, Bradley and y/n are more than just roommates or friends and with Bob and Javy's promise of support a huge load is taken off her mind.

---

"So, another Root Beer for you, what can I get you, sunshine?" Javy asks as he was about to stand up and head to the bar to get them all a refill.

"Oh no, let me. It's my turn. A Root Beer and a Miller?!" Y/n puts her hand on the taller pilot's shoulder to keep him in his seat and makes her way to the restrooms before she is going to order another round of drinks for herself and her two friends at the back of the bar.

Deep in thought she steps out of the ladies' room bumping into a tall figure making her stumble back. Two strong hands grip her shoulders uncomfortably tight but keeping her from falling flat on her ass.

"Wow, look what the cat dragged in. Y/n, nice to see you." She immediately recognizes the sickly sweet with a hint of evil voice.

"H - hello, Sir." She stammers feeling more and more uneasy the longer she feels the two strong hands grip her upper arms.

"Y/n, we're already beyond the formalities and we're not on base. It's Daniel for you." Welsh winks and twists his lips into a daunting grimace.

Y/n feels her heartrate picking up, she doesn't like this guy and being alone with him is only adding up her anxiety. She tries to wiggle out his strong hold but he doesn't budge, cornering her in the hallway of the restrooms.

"Looking cozy with Bob and Coyote, with your two guard dogs deployed." Welsh strokes both his thumbs over her upper arms, sending a shiver of disgust over the smaller woman's spine.

"We - we just having some drinks." Finally able to wiggle herself free of the uncomfortable hold she takes a step back, the need to extend the distance to the dangerous looking man in front of her is growing every second he looks hungrily at her.

"I knew you have a thing for pilots." The man takes a step and strokes once more one of her arms. Panic bubbles up in y/n's chest, she doesn't like to be touched by strangers and this is much worse than just some physical contact in a crowded bar. He corners her and definitely knows what he's doing. Her body starts to tremble and her chest feels too tight to breathe comfortably.

"Everything okay here?" Y/n hears a familiar voice but Welsh is still blocking her view.

"Yeah, everything's good, Captain." Welsh takes a step back as he feels a hand touching his shoulder, turning him around slightly. Y/n takes a sigh of relief. Thank God for Maverick making an entrance. The smaller man is taking a close look at the young woman in front of him. He can see her distress with the taller man in front of her, towering dangerously over her smaller frame. His presence alone is enough to make Welsh leaving the situation and the small hall to the restrooms.

"Are you okay, y/n? Did he - ehm…did he make you uncomfortable?" What Maverick really wanted to ask is if that prick touched her or made inappropriate comments, but he put a bridle on his tongue, not wanting to make the shy woman in front of him more uncomfortable.

"No, no… sorry I was on my way to the ladies' room." And with that she turns around in a hurry disappearing in the restroom. Her intention to get a new round of drinks long forgotten she rushes into one of the stalls falling onto her knees just in time to throw up the small contents of her stomach.

@djs8891

@darksparklesficrecs

#hangman x reader #new writer #rooster x reader #tgm #top gun fanfic #jake seresin x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin #top gun

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dazedandconfused-15 · 2 days

Text

Heaven's in your eyes (Part 2)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Female Reader

Summary: Life in Hawkins is dull and lonely, especially after your mom abandoned your family, leaving you even more isolated amidst school rumors. Already shy and with few friends, you find solace in your solitude—until Billy Hargrove, the intriguing new boy from California, comes into the picture. To your surprise, Billy seems to seek you out, finding ways to talk to you despite the odds. Never in a million years would you have imagined forming such an unexpected bond with someone.

Link to: Part 1

@tatumrileyslover @nocturnest @i-keepmyideals @eddiestans-blog here you go!

______________________________________________________________

It has been exactly six days since Billy dropped you home that Monday after the trip. The following days he never fails to greet you if you cross paths in the hallways. He hasn't ignored you once, even though you haven't called him yet. The truth is, you are terrified of doing so. When you think about dialing his number, two days later, you think it's too soon and you will look desperate, so you put the phone receiver back in its place. At the same time, you keep mulling over his words. 'Call me when you feel like it'. It means you don't have to call him right away, maybe he really means to call him when you feel like it. On Saturday morning, you decide it's the perfect time to call him. Enough time has passed to avoid seeming desperate, but not so much that it seems like you don't want anything to do with him. You need to repay the favor, and even though it's pouring rain outside, you pick up the phone.

After a couple of hours of pondering and racking your brain, you decide to take the risk and go for it. You had written Billy's number down as soon as you got inside, safely on a piece of paper. As the phone rings, you're already regretting your decision, feeling nervous as hell.

“Hello,” a girl's voice answers.

“Oh, um, hello. Is Billy there?”

You definitely didn’t expect a girl to answer. She sounds very young.

“Hold on,” she says, sounding bored. You quickly move the phone away from your ear as she screams Billy’s name.

A few seconds later you hear the rustle of the phone being moved around. “...cking yelling like a banshee. Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Y/N” you say, hoping he remembers your name. It would be weird if that’s the case.

“Hey. What’s up?” he says instead.

You instantly feel relieved.

“You told me to call you when I wanted. I hope it’s not a bad time.”

“‘Course not,” he says. “You okay?”

“I’m good, thank you. And you?”

“Yeah, same. What you’re doing today?”

“Um, nothing special.” You glance at the window. “The weather is awful. I was actually wondering if you wanted to go grab a bite?” It feels like you’re inviting him on a date. It’s embarrassing. “Since it’s raining.” Now you’re repeating yourself. You’re glad he can’t see you blushing furiously as you keep rambling. “I mean, remember you told me you wanted to see more of Hawkins? I saw the weather and thought about this place. It’s a bit outside of town. If you don’t have anything planned.”

“Yeah, sure. Just need to finish working on some stuff. I can pick you up at seven.”

“Seven is perfect,” you say, your heart still hammering in your chest. “I’ll see you then.”

“See you.”

You change clothes at least three times, unable to decide what to wear. You don't even know why you're making such a big deal out of it—it's not a date, just an outing between friends. Actually, you two aren't even that close. But don't dwell on that too much; what is the reason for your outing, anyway? Originally, it was to show Billy the rest of Hawkins. Dinner is part of that plan, but Benny's Burger isn't one of the places he mentioned, even though it's a bit more isolated. However, that didn't seem to bother him. This time, you decide to bring enough money to pay for both of you. It's the least you can do.

Despite anticipating this moment with secret enthusiasm, seven o'clock arrives faster than you'd like. You leave the house in the pouring rain to find Billy's Camaro idling in front of your trailer, its low rumble cutting through the night. You hurry to open the door and close your umbrella, trying not to let any water into the car. As you settle into the seat and turn to greet him, your breath catches. You try not to look too impressed by the sight of him as you fix your wet hair, but a quick glance is enough to get your heart racing. You’re increasingly convinced that this man has no physical flaws, and that thought destabilizes you. He’s wearing a white tank top under a black leather jacket, with blue jeans that fit like they were tailor-made for him. As he puts his hand on your seat and looks over his shoulder to back up, he manages to keep his cigarette firmly between his fingers, one hand on the steering wheel. You take the opportunity to steal a glance at him. The movement brings him closer, and the scent of his cologne reaches your nostrils, making you feel strange. His long curls are perfectly styled, reminding you of a lion.

“I didn’t think you’d actually call.” he says as he shifts from reverse to first, heading toward the end of the trailer park.

“Oh,” you say. “Why is that?”

“Dunno.” he chuckles, his long lashes brushing his cheekbones. “Maybe you were scared of me or something.”

His sentence moves something inside you. "Oh. Not at all,” you say, your voice carrying a hint of determination. You are determined to make him understand that you may be shy, but you are not a fragile little thing. "I'm not scared of you."

“You’re not?” his voice is like a low rumble, it burns through you and sets you on fire.

“Uh-huh.” your mouth feels dry, and you distract yourself by feeling the hot air coming out of the vent with your hands.

“Good.”

When you walk into Benny's Burger, it's practically deserted. There's just a couple of old gentlemen. From the way they are dressed, they look like fishermen. It looks like they have recently ordered because there is only cutlery and two glasses of beer on their table. Benny Hammond comes to take your order and greets you warmly. He and your dad are good friends, they went to school together here in Hawkins. Billy orders a double burger and a large portion of fries, and you order a steak with a small portion of fries. You were afraid the evening would be punctuated by few words and awkward silences. Billy is not the biggest of talkers, but the feeling of uneasiness quickly vanishes as the night goes on. You tell him about your dad and Benny, recounting how your dad was born and raised in Hawkins. When you tell him about his travels, you linger and talk a lot about California. Billy is curious about what your dad did there for five years. Then you tell him how he went to Jamaica alone and risked his life several times but had a good time. Then Billy tells you how his group of friends in California had been very diverse, two of them being a Jamaican and a Filipino. He tells you how good their mothers' cooking was when he was invited to eat at their house. You are surprised how the conversation always manages to bounce back.

Half an hour later, Billy has cleared his plate. You, on the other hand, are still struggling to finish your steak, so he finishes it for you. You comment in amazement that he eats like a horse, then immediately apologize, feeling your face flush with embarrassment. Billy laughs and tells you he does weight training five times a week. You feel like saying you've noticed, but luckily manage to stop yourself in time and avoid further embarrassment.

You insist on paying to make up from last time, but Billy refuses categorically. You feel guilty, but his stubbornness prevents you from doing anything else. When you leave the restaurant, it has stopped raining. The smell of rain rises from the asphalt of the car park. As you walk towards the parked Camaro, you cross your arms over your chest, suppressing a shiver. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Billy take off his jacket.

"No, don't take it off, I'm good, really." you tell him, already knowing what he’s doing.

“Here,” Billy drapes it over your shoulder anyway. The weight of a jacket and the smell of leather envelop you. You try not to show your surprise as his warm hand gently squeezes the back of your neck. “Just wrap it around yourself. Don’t wanna catch a cold.”

His hand seems to leave an imprint on your skin. You didn’t know you would like his touch so much until now. The sound of zippo rips through the silence and your mind. Billy walks past you, the orange glow of a freshly lit cigarette is the only light in the evening darkness. He opens the driver’s door and bents inside, inserting the keys and fiddling with the radio. You lean your back against the side of the car, enveloped in the warmth of his jacket, still carrying the lingering heat from his body. You breathe through the collar of it, smelling the faint scent of his cologne.

The gentle guitar strumming of ‘Landslide’ wafts through the air as Billy closes the door, windows down, and leans against the car, beside you. You turn towards him, your eyes dragging over his body covered only by his wifebeater. He takes a drag from his cigarette, the tip of it vibrating until it almost turns red.

"You’re sure you're not cold?" you ask, daring to be a bit bolder and nudging his shoulder gently.

Billy nudges you back, mumbling around his cigarette. “Hey, I’m a tough guy.”

You softly shake your head at his answer, looking at the trees in front of you, forming a wall of darkness, a trickle of wind shakes them slightly in the breeze. “I love this song,” you say with a soft smile. Then you look at him. “I didn’t know you liked Fleetwood Mac”.

“What did you think I liked?” Billy asks after exhaling the smoke, taking the cigarette from his mouth.

“I don’t know,” you hesitate, hoping he doesn't misinterpret your words. “I thought you were more into metal. Just ‘cause I heard you playing it from your car sometimes.” you hastily add.

Billy hums in acknowledgment. “So you were watching me, huh?”

“No, it’s not that! You just, sometimes the music is very loud.”

He laughs, and it’s such a pleasant sound. It makes your insides swirl. “S’alright. I do play my music very loud.” he flicks the cigarette on the ground, the glowing ashes extinguishing silently on the wet asphalt. “I listen to metal, yeah, but I like rock in general. Hard rock, folk rock,” he jerks his head to his right where the music comes from.

You hum thoughtfully, tightening his jacket around you. “That’s nice. I think they’re among my favorite folk rock bands.

“Those guys?”

“Yes.”

Billy nods his head. “They’re cool, yeah. What else do you like?”

You hum while thinking. “There’s lots. My dad likes all these rock bands, like Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, and a bunch of others. I picked it up from him. He used to blast them in the house when I was little," you recall with a soft smile. "He's a big fan."

“Well, well, well.” Billy grins in appreciation, his smoldering eyes on you. “Didn’t know little miss was so cool.”

You let out a small laugh, and put a strand of hair behind your ear with a shake of your head to do something with your hands. You thank the night for hiding how flustered you are. “I just…”

“What else are you hiding?” he tilts his head toward you, the warming mood bringing him closer than before, his shoulder brushing against yours.

“Not much.” you laugh again, unable to meet his eyes.

“Huh-huh,” he mumbles playfully, bringing the cigarette to his mouth.

You switch the conversation on him, to shift the attention from you. “And how did you start listening to rock?”

Billy initially stays quiet. At a certain point, you’re almost convinced he either didn’t hear you or doesn’t want to answer.

“My mom.” he finally says. You look at him, instantly feeling the shift in his mood. “She listened to all this folk stuff, like Joni Mitchell, Mamas and Papas, Bob Dylan. I remember hearing it play in the house since I was a toddler.” he muses, and for a moment seems lost in the memory, breathes a silent laugh through his nose. “She was a bit of a hippie.”

You can imagine his mom dancing barefoot in the living room, him mirroring her movement with a smiling chubby face, his bright blue eyes looking up in adoration at her.

“And my old man didn’t like that part of her one bit,” he says then, his voice turning acidic. He flicks his cigarette again. “You meet someone and expect them to change what they are for you. Kinda makes sense, huh?”

Something in the way he talks about her suggests to you that her mother is part of his past. You don't know on what level, but surely the whole thing didn't end well. And that's one of the sensitive topics regarding his life in California.

‘Dreams’ starts playing next, filling the last few seconds of silence. It makes you think about the vinyl of that album you bought in Chicago when you spent part of last summer at your grandparents’. It was the right before your mom left.

"I think it’s kind of cool. It's usually always dads who listen to that music,” you say gently in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“Yeah, no.” Billy snorts. “Surely not mine. He thinks that’s the Devil’s music. Still into that conservative bullshit.”

“My grandma thinks the same,” you comment. “I had ‘Rumours’ on vinyl before.” you start, referring to the current song’s album. I bought it that summer when I visited them in Chicago. It got damaged shortly after buying it. I still think she broke it on purpose.

“Shit. That sucks.”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “It’s my favorite one.”

“Do you still have your record player?”

“Yes. I have a few other vinyls too.”

As the two of you continue to talk about music, a topic you didn't think you'd be on the same tune on, the mood returns to a lighter one. Soon later, the rain starts falling again stopping you in the middle of your conversation and you both realize it got late. Billy crushes his unfinished cigarette with his boot and you get in the car.

“Thanks for paying tonight. Again,” you tell him sheepishly once on the drive back home.

Billy slightly lowers the radio's volume until the guitar strums are just background noise, his eyes fixed on the road. “There’s lots of other ways to make it up to me, but I won’t let you pay. Sorry, sweetheart."

His tone suggests he's not sorry at all. It almost sounds like it’s out of the question for him. You try to ignore how the nickname makes your heart flutter, refusing to dwell on its meaning.

“But why?”

“Because,” he chuckles, probably amused by how you seem fixated on the question. “It’s just the way it works.”

“Doesn’t make sense,” you mumble quietly, burying half of your face in his big jacket still wrapped around you and suppressing a shiver.

“Shit. Does it always rain in this shithole?” he squints his eyes a little bit as he lifts the lever to increase the windshield wiper's speed. The rain is now pelting the car more aggressively.

“I think it’s because you’re used to California,” you say gently.

There still are a few droplets of water on his naked arms and shoulders. However, he doesn’t seem to feel cold since he’s not shivering.

“Guess so,” he mutters.

For the first time, you notice he has a tattoo on his shoulder. It’s a skull smoking a cigarette. You wonder when he got it done, what does it represent?

Before you can stop, your mouth talks. Your voice is quiet, but it is still audible. “That’s a cool tattoo.”

He turns his head toward you, and for a moment he seems surprised. Then his face settles back into a composed expression, his eyes flickering with a hint of amusement. "Yeah, you like it?" he responds casually, you swear his tone betrays a touch of warmth.

“Mh-mh.” you nod, feeling comfortable enough to say what you really think next. “It suits who you are.”

He lets out a quiet chuckle under his breath. “What do you think that is?"

Maybe it’s the relentless thundering of the rain over you, maybe it’s the fact that it’s pitch dark or you’re slowly being accustomed to being around him. You feel a sense of comfort enveloping you.

“I think… You’re tough on the outside, you always act distant from what surrounds you, like you don’t care about anything and anyone. But deep down, you’re kind-hearted and really gentle.”

The only sound breaking the silence is the soft hum of the music and the harsh drumming of rain against the car. Your swallow seems thunderously loud in the quiet, but the collar of his jacket offers some solace. Glancing at him, you breathe in the scent of leather and him, focusing on his forearms—robust yet slender—then his hands gripping the steering wheel, long fingers lightly wrapped around it. You wonder what it would feel like to have his arms around you, his hands on your waist, neck, cheeks. Every thump of your heart against your ribcage feels hyper-aware.

“Like, incredibly kind and gentle,” you venture, sensing the weight of your words. It's why you try to cloak yourself in the armor of a rough exterior, a fortress formed by sharp cutting gazes, sharky smiles and skinned knuckles. You want to say more, but it feels too personal, too revealing. You know he wouldn't handle it well. It would make him feel vulnerable, prompting him to close off. You guess he’s hiding some things from himself and the world, afraid it would spill over and flood the fragile sanctuary of his soul.

Billy chuckles softly, his tone light yet evasive. "You're painting me as a real softie, aren't you?" his words carry a playful edge, his gaze still fixed on the road ahead. His eyes won’t meet yours, though. There are a few seconds of silence before he speaks again. "Got it last year. The tattoo. Hurt like a bitch."

You notice his subtle attempt to divert the conversation. But you can’t blame him. You went a bit too hard.

“I want to get one too. Someday,” you murmur.

“Yeah?” he glances at you.”D’you have something in mind?”

“Not really…I guess I’d have to think about it.”

“You should. It’s gonna be there forever. Unless you get it lasered off, which is a new thing. And that’s a whole other level of pain.”

Just to make you think about it makes you shiver. “Laser it…?”

“Yeah.”

Getting a tattoo is something you have to ponder for a long time indeed. And you’ve always had a penchant for changing your mind. Getting excited about ideas, projects, and it always seemed to work for a long time until you changed your mind. Or something happened and you consequently changed your vision of things. You’ve always been uncertain. Your life had a penchant for unexpected events and uncertainties as well.

“Maybe getting a tattoo is not for me,” you mumble. “I’m bad at making decisions. I feel like all of my life is going to be like this.”

“What do you mean?”

As the car slows down, you realize you’re already driving on Forrest Hill trail road.

“I mean…” "I mean…” you sigh, uncertain whether to delve into what’s on your mind and risk exposing yourself. But Billy opened up tonight, so you feel compelled to do the same. It also feels kind of natural. “In my life, things always seem to take unexpected turns. Often in a bad way. I can never know what to expect. And I don’t like that.”

The car comes to a halt, and you find yourselves parked in front of your trailer.

“Well, I could tell you ‘That’s the beauty of it’ or some stupid shit like that. But huh…” he chuckles, shaking his head as he rattles the pack of cigarettes in his palm to extract one. “My life has been a shit show itself. So, I get it.”

“I’m really sorry,” you say softly. That’s all you can say, you can only imagine from the vague piece of information he gave you.

Billy shrugs as if to brush it off. It’s so natural it looks rehearsed. You wish you could tell him it does matter, that he deserved to have a happy childhood, he deserves a happy life.

“I wish I could at least have a hint. Even if it’s just one piece of information. I don’t like all of this uncertainty,” you continue. You've known Billy long enough to understand he doesn’t appreciate pity, or even anything that remotely seems like pity. “I wish I could see my future. My grandma…” you stop yourself with an embarrassed laugh. “I know this is gonna sound stupid. It’s probably not true anyways. But I’ve always wanted to get my palm read. My grandma used to know how to do it.”

Met with silence, you feel the familiar burn of shame and regret welling up inside you. Why would you say that? He’s probably thinking you’re crazy for believing in this stuff.

“Wanna give it a shot?”

You turn toward him in surprise. “You know how?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty good at it.” he shrugs, putting the pack of cigarettes in the compartment. Then places his cigarette behind his ear. “Come on.” he holds his palm in invitation. You place your hand in his, palm facing up.

“Alright,” he begins, tracing a line with his fingertip, “This here, is your headline. It’s curved and wavy, which means you’re creative and intuitive. You think outside the box, not afraid to follow your own path.”

You watch his face, his concentration as he reads your lines. “And this one. Huh. Oh yeah. See, your lifeline is strong and deep,” he continues, his voice a low rumble. “That means you’re full of energy, and vitality. You’ve got resilience, no matter what life throws at you.”

He shifts his focus to another line, “An this, here, this is your fate line. Not everyone has one. Suggests you’ve got a purpose, something you’re meant to do, and it’ll shape your life significantly. Basically, your destiny is in your hands.”

His thumb moves lightly over your palm, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. “Your skin is soft. How's it so soft all the time?” he almost mutters to himself. “Means you’re sensitive, maybe a bit sheltered. Shows you’re not letting anyone in. But it’s not a bad thing, you know what I mean?”

You could listen to his voice forever. It’s like a low melody, resonating deep within you.

“How do you know all this?” you breathe, your eyes studying his face.

“Told you my mom was a hippie. She was into all of this stuff. Taught me how to do it. Shit”, he chuckles. “...haven’t done that since I was ten probably.”

Finally, he traces the heart line, deep and prominent. “And this,” he says, rubbing his finger across a line that nearly runs the full width of your palm. “is your heart line. It runs deep, straight across. It means you feel things intensely. You love deeply, but you also hurt deeply. See this?” he presses his thumb into the little fleshy space between the first and middle fingers, then meets your eyes. “When it curves outward like this, it means you’re willing to give a lot to the other person. Like, you give all of you.”

You are caught between the urge to look away from him and hold his gaze. His tourmaline eyes are two deep pools in which you swear you can lose yourself.

“I uh, we’ll see about that.” you manage to say. “I haven’t had anything like that before.”

“Haven’t had a boyfriend yet?”

A small laugh escapes your lips at your own embarrassment. His own slightly twitch too. “God, no. I haven't exactly been in the game.”

“So nada, huh?”

One of his thumbs caresses your palm, the other the skin of the inside of your wrist, drawing circles. It sends tingling along your body. A pleasant shiver that makes your whole body aware, a hot sensation in the pit of your stomach, all your nerves rising. You can feel something hanging in the air, a palpable tension, but you also wonder if it's just your imagination running wild. Being inexperienced as you are, perhaps it’s all in your head, and all of this is fueled by the undeniable attraction you feel toward him. Then Billy jerks his chin toward your right.

“Looks like your dad is waiting for you.”

You follow the direction he’s pointing at. Indeed, the little light outside the trailer is lit. Your dad is peering at the small window on the door, you can see him munching a pickle in the meantime. As you’ve been burned, you quickly retract your hand from his.

You are grateful to your dad for entering the picture and getting you out of this situation. With him looking at both of you, you can do little other than simply greet Billy without a second thought. Had he not been there, you would surely have stumbled over your words.

“Oh, uhm. Sorry about that.” you chew at your bottom lip before looking back at Billy, an apologetic expression on your face. It’s embarrassing. “He was probably worried, he does that when I come back late. Oh,” you suddenly remember you’re still wearing his jacket, so you quickly take it off. “Here. Thank you. I’ll see you at school?”

Billy takes the jacket. “Yeah. See you there. Sleep tight.”

You want to ask him if another hangout is on the program, but you don’t wanna press too much, so you hurry inside the trailer with your heart a little lighter and a thousand questions. In your bed, you keep replaying the hours spent with him unable to fall asleep. His change of tone and attitude when he talks about his parents lingers in the back of your mind. You don't know his story in depth, but you are increasingly convinced that he and you share more than you think.

#billy hargrove imagine #billy hargove #billy hargove x reader #billy hargove smut #billy hargrove x oc #dacre montgomery #stranger things smut #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove x you #dacryphilia #slow burn #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove angst #eddie munson #billy hargrove x y/n

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firelordsfirelady · 3 days

Text

XVI. Prisoner Heist

Author: @firelordsfirelady

Imagine: When Y/N—a princess of one of the Water Tribes—is told she’s leaving her tribe, she never expects that she’s to be betrothed to the Fire Lord’s son, nor was she prepared to be exiled the very day she arrived at the Fire Nation. With her life in the hands of her new fiancée, how will life change for the princess?

Pairing: Zuko x F!Reader

Trigger warnings: arranged marriage, feelings of fear, banishment, mentions of burns/abuse, frustration, violence, betrayal

Word Count: 2054

Destined to be Yin and Yang

I own no rights to Avatar the Last Airbender or any of the characters/story.

Author’s Notes

The characters as all aged up so Zuko’s banishment happens when he’s 16

Keep in mind I am bringing a unique world with inspiration from ATLA in their characters, some of the events that happen, bending, etc. Not many things may align or occur with what happened in the show. It’s intended that way, so I hope you enjoy it regardless.

See Y/N’s inspiration here.

Destined to be Yin and Yang Soundtrack (YouTube)

With the light of the moon guiding me through the shadows of the city, I snuck my way outside of the palace’s walls where a lonely guard stood on alert. Knocking her out with a rear naked chokehold, I drug the body into a nearby shed before I stripped her of her Earthbender armor and tied her to a wooden post in the room. Putting on the uniform, I quietly made my way back to the unconscious guard’s post before walking towards the front gates. I gave a nod to the guards as I walked past them and into the palace.

Once inside, I walked around while trying my best to look like I was in that location with intention before I arrived downstairs at the holding cells. Another Earthbender guard was talking to an older Earthbender guard as I arrived, but I stuck to the shadows as I listened to their conversation.

“Sir, I was assigned prisoner transfer duty,” Zuko’s innocent voice floated through the air around me and my eyes widened as I realized he had also come up with the same idea to rescue his uncle. “But I’m…late. If my commander finds out--” Zuko’s words were spoken with uncertainty. “I’m already in enough trouble this month….” A small moment of silence passed between the two before the Earthguard spoke.

“The Firebender was taken to the Pit; the other prisoner is still here.” My eyebrows furrowed at the mention of a second prisoner.

“The other prisoner?” Zuko asked the same question I thought in my head.

“Yeah. The bald kid. He’s with the King right now.” I frowned as I realized the predicament Zuko must’ve felt at this moment, but I hoped he was smart enough to know that he had better luck rescuing his uncle than taking on the whole earth kingdom with no help other than a Waterbender.

“Thank you sir. I will make haste to catch up.”

“Don’t forget that the path through the forest is the fastest route. Take the shortcut through the tunnels ahead to try and catch up.” The Earthbender guard bowed as Zuko did and then left down another hallway. Once the guard was out of sight, I quietly stepped out of the shadows and down the stairs. Zuko turned to look at me, but I knew the dimly lit hallway hid the details of my face just as well as it hid Zuko’s.

“At ease, soldier.” Putting my hands up in mock surrender, I softly spoke the words. The tension in Zuko’s shoulders slightly eased as he realized when I stepped closer that I was a friend. “Come on, we’re late enough for the prisoner transfer as it is.” Zuko nodded as we walked through the tunnel like the Earthbender had said and arrived to a small trail in the woods around the palace.

Once we were a safe enough distance away, Zuko and I tossed the helmets away and started running along the road in hopes to catch up to the convoy. After a few hours, I had to slow down to a stop as Zuko and I reached a split in the road. I was breathing heavily as my lungs tried to compensate for the intense amount of running we had just done, but I was suddenly thankful for all the days I would drive the crew crazy running laps around the deck. Resting my hands on my knees, I watched Zuko walk over to the path on the right and lean down to pick something off of the ground. I straightened up as Zuko did, but I couldn’t see whatever he had picked up.

“This way.” Zuko called back to me over his shoulder before he started off down the right path, and I was not too far behind him. As Zuko and I jogged along the path, I watched the thin sticks of the trees in the forest around us slowly disappear as an early morning fog crept in and permeated the forest. We came to a small clearing where we could see the imprints of wagon wheels in the moisten road of the path.

“They were here recently.” I said as I leaned down and touched the slightly damp spot on the ground. “We are close, Zuko.” I stood up and wiped my hands on my earthbender outfit then looked ahead of us. “We may be able to cut them off if we travel on either side of the trail.” I stripped off the heavy gear that weighed me down, and I let out a relieved sigh as I didn’t realize just how heavy that piece was for me. Looking back to the Firebender, I found him staring at me, and I felt my heart somersault in my chest before I moved to the right side of the trail. “You lead, I’ll follow.”

We heard the convoy before we saw them, and I briefly looked at Zuko as he jumped to set a tree on fire in front of the large bird an Earthbender leading the convoy was riding. Both of the large birds threw their rider off as the tree crashed down to block the convoy’s route before snapping at the humans and running away from them. Throwing a ball to block the back side of the cart in, Zuko jumped and landed in front of the convoy. I followed his lead as I used the back ledge of the cart to jump and kick the guard in the back. I formed a small block of ice at the bottom of my foot as it connected with his cheek, sending him flying back with an audible thud on the side of the road. Landing of my left foot, I spun on my heel and roundhouse kicked one of the guards that tried to run towards me. I shifted to attack the guard again when a blast of fire from behind the Earthbender made the man drop to the ground in front of me.

Looking over, I watched as Zuko approached Iroh’s outstretched hands and used a downward kick of fire to bust the metal chains binding the older Firebender’s wrists. I tried not to think about the heat rushing to my cheeks as I turned my attention to the Earthbenders as they helped on of the men up. I walked forward as Zuko sent a fireblast their way as he leapt over the wagon and flipped to the ground beside me. Iroh joined Zuko’s other side as the three of us looked at the three Earthbenders.

Two of the earth benders pulled two large chunks of rock from the earth and sent them in our direction. Zuko pulled me back as Iroh used one of the chains that had been wrapped around him as a heated whip to break both of the chunks apart. Letting go of me, Zuko used one hand to flip in front of Iroh as he released a spin kick full of fire and knocking down the two Earthbenders. I gathered the water molecules from the fog around us and encased the remaining Earthbender’s upperbody in a case of ice to prevent him from bending the rock from the earth as Iroh flung his chain like a whip. The chain wrapped around the Earthbender’s leg and sent the Earthbender falling to the ground as Iroh pulled the chain quickly. My ice shattered as the guard fell to the ground. Iroh walked towards the Earthbender with a serious look on his face. As the Earthbender scrambled to crawl backwards from the older Firebender, Iroh gathered his chains into his right hand as he stood above the guard.

“Do it.” The guard said through clenched teeth as he accepted his fate. The forest around us fell silent as I held my breath to see what the older Firebender would do. He took some deep breaths as he looked at the younger man on the ground.

“We’ve all seen enough death.” Iroh turned away from the guard and walked towards Zuko and I. Zuko turned to follow Iroh. As I turned to do the same, I saw the guard quickly get up and let out an angry grunt. Without blinking I felt a sharp sting as a large sharp rock pierced my shoulder and let out a sharp cry as I sent ice daggers at the Earthbender. Closing my eyes and gripping the protrusion of the rock implanted in my shoulder, I focused on keeping my breathing even as I pulled the rock out. Biting back a scream of pain, I toss the rock to the ground before placing a hand against the bleeding wound as I faced the two Firebenders.

“We need to go.” Iroh said as he looked around us. “There will be more of them coming.”

“But Y/N--” I waved a dismissive hand at Zuko’s concerned words as I walked between the two of them.

“We need to go, Prince Zuko.” I said while applying slight pressure to my wound. My heart squeezed within my ribcage, and I couldn’t look at the man whose voice held concern for me as I led the walk towards the boat.

Once the sun had almost set behind the horizon, the three of us arrived at the boat we used to get to the shore. Climbing into the boat, I bit my tongue to control the yelp as my wound reopened from the motion. After Iroh and Zuko settled into the boat, I used my waterbending to coax the boat into the water.

“It seems like we are always getting on or off boats.” Iroh lightheartedly said as Zuko rowed away from the coast. I let out a small chuckle at the older man’s words, but the motion of laughter caused a slight grimace on my face. Silence filled the boat briefly as Zuko stopped paddling as he looked up at the sky above us. Looking above us, I could barely make out the dark silhouette of a large flying creature in the darkened sky.

“What is it, Zuko?” Iroh asked as the figure disappeared behind the treeline.

“It’s nothing.” The younger Firebender said without turning back to look at Iroh as he slowly started to paddle again.

“Are you alright?” Iroh asked as he shifted his attention to me. The older Firebender’s face showed his sorrow for my injury. I shrugged, but put most of the effort into the side that wasn’t hurt. Shifting slightly to lean over the side, I rinsed my hands in the water as Zuko slowly padded. Once my hands were clean, I sat up as I maneuvered the water to create a small wave to propel the small canoe along back to the ship. Zuko turned to look at me as he opened his mouth to say something, but he closed his mouth at the shake of my head as I avoided eye contact with him. “It’s faster than you paddling.”

“You’re bleeding again.” Zuko’s soft words caused me to look down at the white undershirt of the Earthbender armor that was red with fresh blood from the small wound in my shoulder.

You’re just a distraction. Zuko’s words echoed in my mind as I sped up the boat a bit and avoided any further eye contact with the eyes staring at me with concern.

“It’s a mere flesh wound.” Iroh bit back a bark of laughter that helped to offset the rapid pounding within my chest.

Once we arrived back to the ship, I bit the side of my cheek as I climbed the rope ladder first to get back on the boat. Lieutenant Jee helped me up, but accidentally grabbed a tender area of my injured shoulder and I couldn’t hold back the cry of pain. I was quickly released as I held a gentle hand to my shoulder.

“I’m sorry--” I dismissed the Lieutenant’s apology with a wave of my hand.

“It’s okay Lieutenant Jee.” I heard Zuko’s angry steps as I saw the Lieutenant’s face pale at the man approaching. “Calm down, Prince Zuko.” My calm words made him stop behind me. “He couldn’t have known. Show him a bit of mercy, please.”

“I am tired.” I announced without turning around to look at the man with the heated stare, then I left to go to my room.

Tag List @chevysstuffs @puttyly @ginger24880 @night-fall-moon @junieshohoho @0kauy @coolgirl458 @hypnoticbeing @angelruinz @preeyansha @playboygeniusphilanthropist @ssonniiu @chi-ara @hagridshaircare @stell404 @kyo-kyo1 @herondale-lightworm @simonsbluee @nadlx33333 @nerdisthenewcool @jewelsrules @soggycrout0n @mymomsdisappointment

#avatar imagine #zuko imagine #zuko x reader #avatar the last airbender #prince zuko #destined to be yin and yang

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joelalorian · 2 days

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Fevered Flame

Marcus Pike x F!Reader

Summary: When Marcus Pike lost himself in work after that debacle with Theresa, he didn’t expect to take on a sizzling new case in the quirky town of Truth or Consequences, New Mexico. Nor did he expect to meet you, an up-and-coming agent also looking for a fresh start. An unprecedented heatwave, mind-boggling art thefts, ancient Aztec legends, this case had the works. How would he ever solve the case with the temperature rising between you both?

This fic is my contribution to @iamasaddie's Little Lady Kinky May writing challenge. Prompts were Marcus Pike and Temperature. This is my first time writing Marcus Pike and I hope I did him justice. I learned a few things about myself during this process, the most important being that I am incapable of writing porn without plot, or a romantic angle, apparently. This story turned out waaaaay different than intended because of that. I apologize now for the plot heaviness between sexy bits.

WC: 10.4k – I’m sorry, I have no idea where all these words came from

Warnings: Explicit 18+, too much plot, heat making people cray cray, sexy sweatiness, lots of cursing (I’m from New Jersey, I can’t help it), nonsensical crime stuff, a plot that came straight outta left field, protected and unprotected sex (p in v), pussy eating and cock sucking, inappropriate use of an ice cube and hot springs. No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname and boobs, otherwise, I tried to keep her a blank slate. Some terms of endearment. IDK, there’s probably more but I can’t think right now.

Anyway, hope you enjoy this utter ridiculousness. Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics. Moodboard by me.

Masterlist

Still reeling from the aftermath of Theresa Lisbon choosing that pontificating windbag Patrick Jane over him nearly a year ago, Marcus Pike buried himself in work. The transition from Texas to DC and adapting to leading a whole new team took his mind of his misery. However, the lonely nights in his new home, the one purchased with hopes of building a life with Theresa in mind, were untenable and he took on more fieldwork than someone at the director level typically would. Hence why Marcus found himself driving through the desert to some quirky small town in New Mexico called Truth or Consequences.

What the fuck kind of name was that for a town, he wondered idly as his right hand pumped the rental car’s AC to full blast. Having already stripped off his suit jacket and tie, Marcus sweat clear through his lavender dress shirt within minutes. The heat was ungodly. Surely it couldn’t be normal. How could people live like that?

Eyes scanning the dashboard display of the mid-size SUV the agency rented for him, they nearly bugged out of his head at the temperature reading. Lit up in glaring red, the numbers 121°F taunted him as sweat dripped down his temples.

Jesus Christ. Death Valley had nothing on this place.

Marcus steered the vehicle toward his hotel, opting to change into something a little more suitable for the local climate before checking in with the agent representing the local field office. The FBI put him up in a supposedly nice hotel, though he didn’t have high expectations of what that meant in a town like this. As long as the AC worked, he’d survive.

Thirty minutes later, Marcus took his second shower of the day, this one much colder than the last, and jumped back into the SUV in an outfit more typical of a golf outing than an FBI investigation. It was the best he could do with what he packed. The local agent texted him the address of an art gallery, the first in a series of apparent crime scenes, and he plugged the address into the GPS.

Normally, you didn’t mind the heat, preferring that to cold winters, but this current heatwave was beyond ridiculous. You sweat just by simply existing. You never experienced anything like it in the five years you’d been stationed in Albuquerque, and you suddenly found yourself longing for the bone-deep cold of a northeastern winter as you waited for the DC agent to arrive.

The chilling sea breeze of a New Jersey winter sounded like heaven right now.

A sleek silver SUV pulled up next to your government-issued sedan and you watched with an assessing gaze from the driver’s seat as Director Marcus Pike exited the vehicle clad in khaki shorts and a turquoise polo, trendy aviator sunglasses shielding his eyes from the glare of the desert sun. His dark brown hair was short and styled back off his forehead, and a neatly trimmed scruff lined his top lip and jaw.

You knew from a quick glance at his FBI profile that he was a decorated agent, but his government photo did not do him justice. The man was fucking gorgeous in person. Exiting your own vehicle before he caught you staring, you introduced yourself.

He flashed you a smile full of boyish charm when you gave him your name, causing your heart to thump double time. “You can just call me Jersey, everyone else does,” you finished, holding your hand out to shake his.

“Marcus Pike, Director of the Art Crimes Squad in DC,” he replied, his larger hand engulfing yours in a firm, yet not overbearing, shake. “Just call me Marcus.”

The two of you gazed at each other, the sun beating down on you both like laser beams. Holy fuck, Marcus was even hotter up close. Yeah, his FBI file photo did not do him any justice at all. Not wanting to make things uncomfortable by staring too long, you gestured toward the door to the gallery.

“Shall we?”

Marcus cleared his throat and nodded, following behind you as you strolled casually through the entrance. “Wanna give me a rundown of what we know so far?”

“Sure,” you replied. “We’ve had paintings stolen from several galleries in town. Despite its odd name and small-town status, Truth or Consequences has a rather robust art scene. Lots of expensive art showcased in these galleries.”

Marcus nodded as you gave him some background. He likely read most of this in the file on his flight out here, but you could appreciate the necessity of running over it again verbally. Repetition was the mother of… whatever the fuck that saying was. Your brain was already too fried from the heat.

“The thefts started almost a week ago, not too long after the start of the extreme heatwave this area is currently experiencing. There has been one painting taken every other day so far, always at the peak heat of the day when the townsfolk are too overheated and tired to pay much attention. No eyewitnesses and the thief artfully avoided any surveillance or security cameras so far.”

You watched Marcus jot down some notes, tapping the end of his pen against the small notepad as he reviewed the information.

“So, three paintings taken so far, and it’s still early in the day. I’m guessing we can expect another theft today?” You nodded and Marcus tapped the pen against his bottom lip this time, causing you to avert your gaze before he caught you ogling the plump flesh.

“Have there been any patterns identified?”

You could practically see the wheels turning in his head. “Just in the types of paintings taken so far. They all depict scenes of cool, serene landscapes.”

Dark brown eyes held your gaze. “So, the exact opposite of the current weather situation.”

Again, you nodded. “That’s the only pattern so far. We haven’t been able to determine any order to the galleries hit and, unfortunately, this town doesn’t have the law enforcement manpower to guard all of the galleries and still attend to their normal duties. We do have unis posted at the galleries that haven’t been hit yet, just in case. That’s the best the townies could do though.”

Humming in thought, Marcus walked around the gallery, causing you to scramble to keep up. It was fascinating watching his mind work, his big, brown eyes taking in every minute detail around him. When he stopped in front of the empty spot marking the first stolen painting’s former home, you paused next to him, debating on sharing the only other piece of information you had so far.

“There’s, uh, something strange that may or may not be related to this case.” That got Marcus’ attention and his eyes shot to you once again, brow arched curiously.

“Do tell,” he replied with an encouraging smile. You blinked slowly, trying in vain to maintain your concentration in front of such a handsome man.

“I will on the way to the other galleries. Just… just promise to hold judgment until I finish telling you everything. It’s a little… unorthodox compared to what we’re used, I’d say.” You led the way back to your car, gesturing for Marcus to get in on the passenger side. It made more sense to ride together. Thankfully, you left it running while inside the gallery, making the interior still nice and cool.

Once seated, his head cocked to the side endearingly, the tilt of his lips bordering on an indulgent smile. “Ok, I promise.” The cadence and depth of his soft-spoken voice set you aflame and you had to practically shake yourself to not fall to your knees in praise of this man.

Jesus Christ, Jersey, have a modicum of professionalism and self-respect, will ya, your inner monologue chided. Your libido hyperfixated on the veritable stud before you whether you wanted it to or not. It’d been too long since your last tumble in the sheets, apparently. Recentering your focus, you pulled out onto the main road heading to the next crime scene.

“Good,” you croaked. Feeling the heat creep up your already overheated flesh, you cleared your throat. “I’m sure you can tell, the weather here is ungodly hot – hard to miss it. This is not entirely normal, from what I understand. It’s tempting to chalk it up to climate change, except for one strange thing. Drive twenty or thirty minutes outside of town and the temps are far lower, though still hot by some standards. The temps within the surrounding towns are in line with the more normal averages.”

Brows furrowed, Marcus’ dark eyes searched your face, clearly looking for more context clues. “The heat certainly seemed excessive on the ride over from the municipal airport. I had to stop at the hotel and change or I would have melted to the pavement in my suit.”

You chuckled. “I know the feeling. The average temperature here is supposed to be in the low 90s this time of year, not thirty degrees higher. And the usually cooler desert nights haven’t existed for the past couple of weeks. It’s very strange.”

“And it’s just this town, you say?”

Pulling to a stop in front of the next gallery, you nodded. “Strange, right?”

“Very,” Marcus replied, deep in thought as he followed you inside.

It carried on like that the rest of the afternoon until the heat became just too much after checking out the last crime scene. Like everyone else in town, you sought refuge in the coolest place you could find, which happened to be a hole-in-the-wall pub just off the main street.

Just when Marcus thought things couldn’t get weirder with this town, you led him into a dark and dingy little pub, settling right up to the aged bar. If you weren’t a certified agency employee, he would be terrified that you were luring him to his untimely death.

As it was, the scraggly old barkeep gave him the creeps when he shuffled over, eyeing the pair of you with the same attention he would three-headed aliens. “Coldest beer in town. Two pints?” The man’s voice as rough as he looked, he didn’t wait for an answer.

Marcus shot you a look, eyes wide and uncertain, but you merely shrugged in return. He didn’t normally drink on the job, but between the heat and the early start for traveling, Marcus decided his day was finished. He chugged at the frosty draft when the barkeep placed it in front of him. The old man was right, the pint glass was frozen and small chunks of ice floated in the foamy beer.

“Damn, that’s good,” he nearly moaned, feeling refreshed.

“I know, right?” you replied, nearly half done with your own pint. “I don’t normally like beer, but I could drink it all day long when it’s ice cold like this. Especially in this heat, you know?”

The first round went down easily, and quickly, and the old barkeep, whose name turned out to be Harry, placed another round down before Marcus even thought to ask. The pair of you settled into easy conversation, getting to know each other outside of the job. The more you drank, the more your Jersey accent started to peak through. He found it cute and kept asking you questions just to keep hearing you talk.

Soon enough, any thought left in his mind about Theresa evaporated. How could he still think about his ex-fiancé when a hot, smart, sweet little thing like you sat before him, chatting, and flirting away the evening. Theresa had nothing on you.

It took exactly a fraction of a second to be struck by your beauty that morning. Confident and intelligent, not mention damn good at your job, he quickly realized your natural beauty served as icing on the cake. You were the entire package, and he was trying his damnedest to not charge ahead trying to get you into bed.

Turned out you both had similar relationship history, married too young and divorced, no kids, longed for a dog if only your job didn’t call you away so often. You were practically the female version of him, Marcus thought. It made him all the more curious about you.

Before long, you both ordered some bar grub and went back to talking about the case. Neither of you could make sense of what you had so far. There were vital pieces of the puzzle missing, that much was apparent.

Harry unceremoniously dropped plates full of burgers and fries in front of you, not even trying to hide the fact that he eavesdropped on your conversation.

“You think your case has something to do with the heat?” the old man questioned, leaning heavily on the bar top.

You and Marcus shared a look before you nodded.

“There’s some local lore you might find interesting, then,” Harry said, pausing for dramatic effect and you gestured for him to continue. “Well, as the legends go, the Flame of Quetzalcoatl was hidden somewhere in town centuries ago. They say it was a gem gifted by the Aztec god Quetzalcoatl himself, but who the recipient was no one knows. The gem is said to hold the power of the sun and the wielder of it has the ability to control heat.”

You and Marcus sat there in silence, absorbing the tale Harry just shared. After a few minutes, Marcus glanced at you, doubt clear in his expression.

“This town just gets fuckin’ weirder by the minute, I swear,” he said, sipping at his pint once again. “I might actually believe that little story if I was a few more beers in.”

You laughed, but your face didn’t hold the same doubt as his. “I don’t know, Marcus. If living out here for the past few years has taught me anything, it’s that these Aztec legends are often too close to the truth to blow off.”

Harry harrumphed. “I’d say so, little lady.”

“Besides, it’s the best we’ve got right now,” you said, nudging Marcus’ shoulder with yours. “Couldn’t hurt to play that angle until a better lead pops up.”

Marcus found himself agreeing, much to his surprise.

Over the next few days, you and Marcus researched as much as possible about local lore related to Aztecs, searching for any hint of what Harry told you. In that time, three more paintings were stolen. The thief started leaving little clues as if to goad law enforcement.

The first cryptic clue further convinced you of the potential voracity of the Aztec legend. Written in drip red paint in the spot where the fourth painting had been located, Marcus suspected the thief meant it to look like blood.

When the feathered serpent sheds its skin, the heat will rise.

“Holy shit,” you gasped when you first read it. Turning to Marcus, you declared, “Quetzalcoatl was known as the Feathered Serpent.”

His dark brown eyes widened, meeting yours in shock. “No way.”

You nodded, flipping through your notepad to find your most recent notes on the case. “Yes way. That book we borrowed from the Historical Society talked about it. Remember?”

Marcus nodded slowly as the information came back to him, his eyes searching yours, trying to make sense of this completely bizarre case. “Didn’t the book say something about Quetzalcoatl being a signal of transformation? Think the clue has something to do with that?”

“Yeah, could be.”

The pattern continued the next day with another clue left behind.

Where the earth boils and the water steams, the gem of the sun awaits.

The pair of you debated the meaning of the second clue over cold beer at Harry’s pub. As the case evolved, so did the connection between you and Marcus. You both flirted unashamedly when you weren’t talking about the case. It turned out the agency put you both up at the same hotel – your rooms on the same floor even. You were beginning to hope that he would make a move, yet completely terrified of that happening at the same time.

Despite your best efforts, the thief remained one step ahead of law enforcement, somehow managing to steal from galleries you had actively guarded. How in the world was this guy doing it?

Things were slowly coming together once a third clue was discovered.

Seek the place where fire and water dance, and there you will find the sun’s heart.

Without a local FBI office to work out of – the Albuquerque one you worked out of was over two hours away – you’d decided to setup camp in a quiet booth at Harry’s. He kept you full on pub grub and refreshments – soda and water during work hours, of course – and chipped in with his local knowledge whenever he thought it needed.

In fact, it was Harry who guided you toward understanding the latest clues.

“Have you two heard about the hot springs? This town is famous for them.” The old man dropped the nugget of knowledge along with a plate of fries and shuffled away, leaving the two of you to stare after him.

Marcus turned to you; his lips pursed in thought. You ached to nibble on the plump flesh of his bottom lip, to feel the gentle scratch of his facial hair against your soft skin as you did so.

“Where the earth boils and the water streams,” Marcus recalled the second clue in that delicious, soft-spoken voice of his, sending a wave of gooseflesh over your skin. “Seek the place where fire and water dance.”

Shaking your head free of naughty thoughts, you focused on the clues and the knowledge bomb Harry dropped, picking right up on Marcus’ thought process. “Fire, heat, and water... The hot springs!”

Marcus beamed at you; eyes sparkling as he came to the same realization. “It has to be. Makes sense, right?”

“Sure does,” you agreed, grinning back at him. “But there must be a ton of them. How would we ever find the right one?”

Sitting back in his seat, Marcus shrugged. “I don’t know. We’ll have to keep digging. Do you still have that book from the Historical Society? Maybe there’s something else in there to help us.”

“It’s back in my room,” you reply. “Fancy ordering room service at the hotel while we go over the clues again?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

What was he thinking, agreeing to go back to your room to continue working on the case.

An unwitting temptress already, how was he supposed to control himself when you invited him into your room for dinner, drinks, and after-hours casework?

In the already excessive desert heat, Marcus was sweating bullets as he followed you into your room, conveniently located only a few doors down from his own.

“I have a bottle of cab, is that good?” you questioned, kicking off your shoes with a sigh before reaching for the screw cap bottle.

Audibly gulping, Marcus squeaked out an assent and wiped his sweaty palms on his shorts. He glanced around the room to distract himself, noting happily that you were a tidy traveler, much like himself.

“I have bottled water as well. Would you like one?” Marcus nodded. With an indulgent smile, you held out the small ice bucket. “I like mine over ice. Would you mind?”

Eager for a moment to clear his head, Marcus grabbed the bucket. “No problem.” The echo of your chuckle followed him as he rushed out the door.

“What is wrong with you, dude?” he whispered to himself as he strolled down the hall to the ice machine. “You don’t even know if this woman wants anything more than just reviewing the case. Calm the fuck down.”

Feeling a little calmer and more under control after his private pep talk, Marcus knocked on your door with the full ice bucket in hand. You let him in with a broad smile that nearly made his heart stop.

“Perfect.” Plucking the bucket from his hands, you returned to the makeshift kitchenette area to fill two cups with ice and water. Two glasses of cabernet were already sitting on the tiny table in the small designated sitting area of the hotel room.

Marcus joined you on the couch, case file in hand, seated close due to the limited space. You dove right in to discussing the case, easing his nerves. The pair of you compared the facts of the case, debating theories and potential connections. Without any physical evidence, you still didn’t have any viable suspects, which was incredibly frustrating for both of you.

“I’ve never had a case like this,” Marcus said. “It’s hard to believe that this could all relate to a myth about an ancient god. It feels weird even saying that aloud.”

“I know. It’s giving me Twilight Zone vibes.”

With the lack of viable suspects serving as a brick wall in furthering the investigation, conversation switched to other topics.

“You’re from New Jersey?” Marcus asked. “What brought you out here?”

“Yep, born and raised at the Jersey Shore,” you replied, that northeastern accent peeking through as you drank more wine. “Classic reason for relocating – I followed a guy, the one I told you a little about. We got married young and one day he woke up and decided he wanted a change of scenery. I followed along without argument, and we wound up out here. Biggest mistake of my life.”

“Ahh,” he said with a nod. “That asshole.”

“Yeah, that asshole.”

From what you told Marcus about your ex-husband, he knew the guy was a real piece of work. Classic narcissist who beat you down emotionally the entire time you were together. Marcus was happy that you kicked the guy to the curb two years ago and the divorce finalized last year. No one deserved to be treated like that, especially you.

“Are you going to stick around here now that’s all over with?” He found himself curious about your future plans.

Shaking your head, you laughed. “Hell no. I put in for a transfer already, for anywhere on the east coast closer to home. I’m no picky.”

Marcus perked up at that. The DC headquarters always had openings. He’d get to see you again if you were transferred there. “I could put in a good word for you, if you’d like. You’re a great agent from what I’ve seen so far.”

Ducking your head bashfully, you peeked at him through your lashes. “That’s pretty high praise coming from a director,” you deflected.

“I mean it, Jersey.” He kept his voice low, using your nickname for the first time, and watched in delight as you shuddered.

The air in the room shifted, sexual tension thick and nearly overpowering. Marcus watched as your pupils dilated, lust overtaking the previous sparkle. He gulped when your tongue darted out to lick your lips tantalizingly.

Shifting ever so closer, your scent washed over him. You smelled fucking delicious, hints of cocoa butter and salty sweat, reminding him of the beach. His shorts suddenly became tighter, his cock twitching to life. He wanted to devour you.

The next thing Marcus knew, your lips were pressed to his as you basically ripped the clothes from each other’s bodies, the now empty bottle of wine knocked from the table to the carpeted floor in the process. Despite the cool air pumping from the air conditioning, your skin felt hot to his touch.

Licking into your mouth, savoring the taste of you mixed with the bite of wine on your tongue, Marcus steered you backwards until your hamstrings bumped against the mattress. He eased you down onto the bed, detaching his lips from yours to take in the electrifying sight of your naked body splayed before him.

“You’re breathtaking,” he murmured, his fingertips tracing down your smooth skin slowly, teasingly from your neck to your toes.

Your eyes, blown wide with need, burned into his before dipping down to take in his naked body with a gasp. His cock bobbed eagerly as you stared.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Marcus said, his soft voice filled with awe, matching the wonder in his eyes.

“Me either,” you replied, “but I’m happy it is. You are so fucking gorgeous, Marcus.”

Marcus couldn’t help the blush that pinkened his cheeks. Reaching behind him to the bucket, he plucked a large ice cube from the slowly melting pile. His eyes remained locked on yours as he popped the frozen cube into his mouth, sucking lightly before his tongue pushed forward and his lips puckered as a portion of the ice cube stuck out.

The breath left you when he dipped his head down to run the cube along your clavicle and down across your breasts. Your nipples pebbled beneath the chilly wetness as Marcus directed the ice cube back and forth a few times. He watched delightedly as goosebumps peppered your skin when he moved the cube down your belly in a zigzag pattern.

“Oh, fuck.” Your chest heaved and fingers tightened their grip on the bedsheets when Marcus dipped further down, running the quickly melting cube over your mound and through your slit. The cold nearly shocking to the overwhelming heat of your labia.

Using his tongue to increase the pressure, Marcus circled the ice cube over your clit until you cried out, one hand loosening its grip on the sheets to tangle your fingers in his thick hair. He shifted, plunging the cube into your entrance, pushing as far as his tongue would extend, then leant back to watch your pussy suck the cube further until in melted into mere dribbles of water.

You laid there panting, eyes hooded and wanting, as Marcus dove back in, using his tongue to continue the work he started with the ice cube. He lapped and sucked at your clit, two thick fingers slipping inside you, until you became a blubbering mess, blurting out unintelligible words and moans, finally falling apart beneath his ministrations.

Marcus slurped at the evidence of your long overdue release, savoring the sweet, tangy taste of you. His hips thrust against the mattress of their own accord, his body seeking any sort of friction against his aching cock it could find.

“Your mouth is a lethal weapon, Marcus,” you said breathlessly, hands reaching under his shoulders to drag him up your body. “Now let’s see what you can do with your cock.”

His hair flopped forward over his forehead from your fingers tangling in it and he grinned in satisfaction at your comment. His boyish charm proved too much to handle, and you yanked his face down to yours, tongues tangling in a scorching kiss. You nibbled on his plump bottom lip between fervent kisses, savoring the plushness between your teeth.

Whining when he pulled away suddenly, your fingers grasping for purchase to pull him back, Marcus winked at you when he slid off the bed. “Don’t worry, baby. I’m coming right back.”

Digging in his shorts to find his wallet, Marcus pulled out a long-forgotten condom from the tri-fold leather and checked the date on the foil packaging to make sure it hadn’t expired. Content with the remaining half-life, he ripped the package open with his teeth and slid the latex material over his cock.

You beamed at him when he climbed back onto the bed. “I knew you were a smart man.”

Marcus slid up beside your body, turning you so your back pressed snug against his chest. “Safety first, baby. Wrap it before you tap it, right?”

Your laughter became strangled when he slid inside you, splitting you open on his cock. “Oh my god. You feel so good!” you cried when he began to move inside you after a long pause to let you adjust to the sheer size of him.

Marcus started at a slow pace, getting a feel for the way your walls tightened around him. Gripping the bed covers with your right hand, you reached your left hand up and around to tangle in his hair behind you. He picked up the pace as you tugged gently on his locks, his lips peppering your neck with soft, wet kisses.

When, at last, Marcus began pounding into you, you reached between your legs with your right hand to rub your clit. Despite the cool air blowing over your bodies, the heat between you had your skin glistening with sweat. You cried as Marcus hit a particularly pleasurable spot deep within you, his own moans morphing into grunts as you clamped down on him.

“Fuck, baby. You’re so tight around me. I can feel you clench every time I hit this spot.” His words were murmured into your ear, barely audible over the sound of skin slapping against skin. Marcus plunged forward to hit your g-spot, proving his point when you clenched tightly around him once again. “Yeah, just like that.”

You plunged clear over the precipice then, crying out his name and any number of praises as an orgasm overtook you. Marcus talked you through it, his voice like sugary syrup, while he never once let up on his thrusts. Minutes, hours later, he followed you into the overwhelming bliss with a shout of your name followed by a string of curses.

“That was amazing.” Marcus nuzzled your neck as his hips slowed, the last shots of his cum dribbling into the condom. “You are amazing.”

Lost for words, you just hummed in agreement. Knackered from the excessive heat, long day of investigative work, the alcohol, and the mind-blowing sex, you hovered on the edge of sleep while Marcus got up to dispose of the condom. He returned with a wet cloth and cleaned you up with tender dedication. Tossing the cloth aside, he paused, standing naked and uncertain next to the bed.

“Do you want me to stay?”

“Hell yeah, I do,” you replied sleepily, tossing the covers down so you could both slide under them. “I hope you like to cuddle, Mister.”

Grinning at you, Marcus wrapped his arm around you, curving his body around yours. “You bet your ass I do.”

You both fell into an exhausted sleep feeling hopeful and satiated for the first time in a long time.

Waking up in Director Pike’s arms was not something you expected would happen on this case. You fantasized. You hoped. Sure, all of that. But you never, ever expected it would actually happen. But it did and it felt fucking incredible.

You already knew he was damn good at his job. It was impressive to see that his single-minded focus and massive talent carried over to his skills in the bedroom as well. You replayed the night before in your head as you showered, remembering with fondness all the ways Marcus surprised you, how cherished he made you feel, the sheer pleasure he brought you.

How were you supposed to focus on the case now when your mind was completely overcome with thoughts of Marcus. You were almost relieved when he slipped out of the room after sharing a cup of hotel room coffee with you. You weren’t sure you could keep your hands to yourself if he stayed much longer, the rumbled, sleepy look proving almost too adorable to resist.

Marcus met you in the hotel lobby, two large cups of iced coffee and a brown paper bag clutched in his hands an hour after waking up together. “Good morning, Jersey girl,” he greeted you with a wink, dark brown eyes sparkling in the soft morning light filtering through the windows.

You chuckled at the variation of your nickname, already knowing that would become his signature endearment for you. “Good morning, handsome. Long time, no see.”

His grin grew wider. “Come on. Let’s ride together. No sense in taking two cars anymore.” He handed you one of the iced coffees and the paper bag, pulling the keys to his SUV out of his pocket.

Clad in gray cargo shorts, blush polo shirt, and a pair of boat shoes, Marcus looked ready for a day spent on the water rather than investigating art theft. The sight made your mouth water and you gulped at the iced coffee. As he drove, you both munched on the bagels he picked up along with the coffees while waiting for you.

“I figured we’d start taking a look at some of these hot springs to get a feel for them and see if anything else in the clues pops out at us,” Marcus explained between bites. He always chewed with his mouth closed and waited until after he swallowed to speak. You loved a man with impeccably manners.

“Great idea. I put a list of them in the file.”

“I know,” he beamed at you. “I saw it last night, before… It’s what gave me the idea. Thought we’d start with La Paloma and work our way down the list. What do you think?”

You nodded, sitting back in the passenger seat contentedly. Much to your surprise, there wasn’t an ounce of awkwardness between you two after last night’s surprising turn of events. Everything felt natural, like it was meant to turn out this way and you basked in the effortless interactions between you and Marcus.

Marcus spoke to the manager upon your arrival at La Paloma Hot Springs & Spa and the gentleman gave you a quick tour of the facility before allowing the two of you to investigate on your own. You split up to cover more ground, the scent of mineral-rich water tickling your nose as you worked your way through the facility.

Searching the private soaking tubs, you ran your hands along the edges looking for evidence of hidden compartments that might contain the artifact. Still uncertain if that was what you were actually looking for, it didn’t hurt to search. When you found nothing, your focus shifted to the vintage décor including the old photographs hanging on the walls, looking for any signs or symbols that might be a clue.

An hour later, you and Marcus reconvened at the front desk, disappointed that you both came up empty, yet undeterred in your drive to figure out this case.

You visited a number of other hot springs, conducting the same kind of searches yet never finding additional clues or evidence.

“It’s like we’re missing something,” Marcus said as you both climbed into the SUV, burnt out and sweaty, after your latest search came up empty. You’d spent the entire day running from hot spring to hot spring across the small town to no avail.

“Yeah, but what could it be?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s not just any old hot spring? We need more to go on.”

Just then, your phone buzzed with an incoming call from the TCPD. Another painting stolen right under their noses – or rather, right behind the officer’s back as he turned around while patrolling one of the galleries. The thief had lightning-fast reflexes, apparently.

“Alright, thanks Chief. We’ll head over there now.” You ended the call and relayed the information to Marcus.

“This guy sure is brazen. I’ll give him that,” he lamented, carefully spinning the SUV around to head toward the latest crime scene.

“He’s got some balls, nicking a painting while an officer is standing right there. It’s like he’s begging to be caught.”

“That or he’s just a fucking lunatic.” Marcus met your gaze for a long moment after parking the vehicle. “Is it wrong that part of me hopes we don’t catch him too soon?”

Your heart thumped in your chest, lips quirking upwards into a shy smile. “No, not after last night…” you admitted. “We could always stay a few days after solving the case and explore this.” You gestured between the two of you.

Shutting off the car, Marcus bobbed his head. His previously styled hair fell across his forehead, the heat having worn away the product he used this morning. “I’d really like that.”

The TCPD officer met you at the door and led the way to the scene of the latest theft, his shoulders hunched in shame. “I never saw him; he was there and gone in seconds. Managed to leave this behind though, taped where the painting had been.”

Marcus accepted the paper, holding it up so you could read it.

Where the serpent bathes in earth’s warm embrace, beneath the soothing waters, the heart of the sun lies hidden.

“This message is different. Different, but the same. I mean… I don’t know what I mean,” you sighed frustratedly.

Marcus patted your shoulder in a manner appropriate for a professional audience. “No. I get what you mean. It’s tying the clues together in a different way. Giving us more hints at once.”

Heaving a sigh of your own, you nodded. What a great relief to feel understood. “Exactly.”

Conferring with the forensics team first, you and Marcus departed when they confirmed the thief left no trace evidence behind. No fibers, fingerprints, or hair. Nothing to clue you in on who the thief could be. Nothing, not even on the adhesive used to tape the clue to the wall or the paper itself. The perp was either lucky or extremely tidy.

Seated once again in the corner booth at Harry’s dingy pub, Marcus devoured his burger while you daintily nibbled at your fries. The extremely high temperature ruined your appetite. The case file sat open on the table as you placed sticky notes on a photocopy of the latest clue.

“’Where the serpent bathes’… that has to refer to the hot springs, right? And the serpent would symbolize this Quintessential guy?”

“Quetzalcoatl. The god’s name is Quetzalcoatl, for Christ’s sake,” Harry chimed in as he dropped off a fresh round of cold draft beers.

“Yeah, that guy,” you said, pointing a fry at Harry in thanks. Marcus laughed at your adorable ridiculousness. You made investigating this mind-boggling case fun.

“Right. And ‘in the earth’s warm embrace’ refers to the warm waters of the hot springs as well. That’s caused by geothermal activity, is that correct, Harry?” Marcus questioned.

The grizzled old barkeep lingered by your table, too caught up in his own curiosity to return to his duties. “Mmhmm, that’s what they say. I’m no rock scientist, mind.”

“You mean a geologist?” you chirped, a shit-eating grin gracing your pretty face.

“Yes, you mouthy little shit. Don’t sass me or I won’t help solve this case,” Harry grumbled. For a moment, Marcus worried you would be offended by the old man, but your tinkling laughter convinced him otherwise.

Marcus stifled a laugh when you rolled your eyes playfully and re-focused his attention on the clue. “That could be the earth’s warm embrace part, then. And ‘beneath the soothing waters’ refers again to the hot springs.”

“Uh huh,” Harry chimed in again, pulling the case file closer to him, aged eyes squinting to read your notes. Neither of you would normally let a civilian get so involved in a case, but Harry proved himself integral to solving this particularly challenging and unusual case. Pointing an arthritic finger to the final line of today’s clue, beneath the soothing waters, he added, “It refers to the artifact being hidden there, beneath one of the hot springs.”

Harry slipped into the booth on your side, and you flashed Marcus a smile. The old man was fully invested now. Thankfully the bar was empty but for a few regulars who could help themselves as far as Harry was concerned.

“Ok, so to summarize, we know the hot springs are involved,” you stated, processing the facts aloud as well as in your head. “And we know that the artifact is hidden beneath one of them. The question we’ve been chasing all day is which one, right? So, do any of the known hot springs have a serpent symbol or painting or something along those lines associated with it?”

Marcus shook his head as you flipped through pages of notes. “Definitely didn’t see any in the ones we checked out today.”

“Oh, for the love of all that is holy, you two idiots will be my age by the time you figure this out,” Harry stood from the booth, his voice gruff with annoyance, though whether that was from dealing with the two of you or the effort it took to stand with aged, arthritic bones was anyone’s guess. “You’ll want to check out Riverbend Hot Springs in the morning. You’re welcome.”

Mouths agape, you both watched the cantankerous old man shuffle back to the bar, grumbling to himself the whole way.

“Did he just solve the case for us?” Marcus asked when his gaze shifted back to you.

“I think so,” you laughed. “Thank fucking goodness. My eyes were starting to cross from looking at this file so much.”

Looking it up on his phone, Marcus confirmed that the Riverbend Hot Springs were closed until morning. Knowing their work was done for the day, he flashed you a heated look. “Want to go back to my room? Maybe cool off in the shower?”

Marcus had a nicer room than yours, the walk-in shower encased in glass and large enough to fit a few people. The perks of being a director, you guessed.

You barely glimpsed at the room before Marcus backed you against the already deadbolted door. His mouth pressed against yours, tongue dancing along the seam of your lips, begging for entry. You let him in eagerly, tongues tangling and teeth clashing with urgency. His hands were everywhere, stripping away your clothes and sliding against already bare skin in turn.

Once you both gave into the spark, stoking the fire into flames last night, the want turned into a blazing inferno that neither of you could extinguish. Not that you wanted to, anyway. No, you were content to burn to a crisp as the fire raged.

Marcus had you stripped naked within minutes, his mouth having never left your own in the process. Eager to return the favor from last night, you sunk to your knees, undoing his belt and shorts as you stared up at him. Marcus tore off his shirt while you shoved his shorts and boxer briefs down his slim hips to pool at his feet.

“Oh, fuck,” Marcus moaned as you wrapped your hand around his hardened length, testing the girth and weight of it in your grip. You tugged playfully a few times, getting to know the feel of him. Still staring into his lust blown eyes, you slowly leaned forward to glide the head of his cock around your plump lips before slipping him inside your mouth. A delicious whine fell from his lips when your tongue lapped at the little droplet of precum without breaking eye contact.

Not wanting to torture him unnecessarily, you began to move, taking more of his cock into your mouth until he bumped the back of your throat. Bobbing your head, you soaked his cock with your saliva, sucking every now and then to increase the sensation. Your left hand tugged the base of him where your mouth couldn’t quite reach, twisting with each upward stroke to further enhance his pleasure, as your right hand massaged his balls.

Panting heavily above you, Marcus slapped his palms against the door to support himself as you continued sucking his cock. Experimenting with how far you could take him, you hollowed your cheeks, easing farther down his length and breathed through your nose.

“Jersey girl… ungh. Please, I’m gonna come down that pretty little throat if you don’t stop.” You could feel his thigh muscles flex and twitch with the effort of not blowing his load down your throat as he stuttered out the words.

Taking pity on the man, you eased back until his cock audibly popped out of your mouth, a string of saliva connecting you until Marcus severed the link by stepping backwards on shaky legs.

“You are too good at that, my little minx. Come here.” Marcus helped you up, leading you into the shower once you regained your balance. He kissed you deeply as the cool water from the shower head cascaded over you both.

The water felt good on your overheated skin and Marcus pressed you backwards against the sturdy glass. Hiking a leg up around his waist with one hand, he gently cradled the side of your face in the other. Your gazes locked as he reached around your thigh and teased your clit.

“So wet for me, my Jersey girl.” Already on edge from sucking his cock, you were drenched and ready for him. “Did sucking my cock turn you on that much, my Jersey girl?” You mewled and, with the slightest shift of his hips, Marcus notched his cock at your entrance, feeding you inch by inch until your walls gripped his entire length tightly. “Fuck, you feel like heaven.”

Droplets of water rained down your bodies as he thrusted into you, your lips pressed open-mouthed against each other, noses bumping, exchanging breaths and moans without actually kissing. The stretch was intense but pleasurable, and you could feel every ridge of him inside you.

You suddenly realized why that was.

“Shit, we forgot a condom,” you said in between moans, your hands grasping his plump ass to make certain he didn’t stop.

Marcus showed no signs of stopping, his hips almost seemed to pick up the pace. “Do you want me to stop?”

“Fuck no!” you gasped; eyes fluttering shut as he nudged that spot inside you just right. “Please don’t ever fucking stop.”

“Ok,” he breathed against your lips. “I’m clean and it’s been a while since I’ve been with anyone.”

“Same,” you replied. “And I’m on birth control, so please, come inside me.”

Marcus groaned deeply at that, his head shifting so he could nip at your neck, soothing the sting with little kitten licks of his tongue. Pulling back, he murmured, “Turn around.”

You did so, whining as he slipped out of you. With a gentle hand, Marcus pushed your upper body against the glass and pulled your hips closer to him so your back arched perfectly. Your tits were pressed up against the glass wall of the shower and, just beyond it, you could see your reflections in the mirror. Only a slight mist of steam swirled in the air from the temperature of the water, and it didn’t hinder your view at all as Marcus closed in behind you, slipping his cock back where it belonged.

You watched your reflections, mesmerized, as he fucked into you, his wet hair flopping over his forehead when he bent forward to kiss along your shoulders and neck. Your hands came up on either side of your head to brace yourself against the glass, hoping that the strength of his thrusts wouldn’t cause it to shatter.

Marcus reached a hand around your thigh, slipping between your legs to pluck at your clit as you fucked you. Every single cell in your body felt aflame, ready to burst at the pleasure racing through you. It didn’t take long for you to explode, eyes squinted shut as you keened.

“That’s it, baby. Just like that. Come on my cock, my little Jersey girl. I can feel your cum gushing around me. Fuck, baby.” Once again, Marcus talked you through it in the soft voice of his. He continued thrusting as your walls trembled around him, driving him right over the edge after you, rope and rope of cum splashed your walls as he made the loveliest sex sounds in your ear.

You stayed like that, pressed up against the glass with the weight of Marcus leaning against you, chests heaving, until you both came back down from the high. Taking a few minutes to actually wash the day off each other, you settled on the bed wrapped in towels afterwards.

The two of you talked long into the night and, unable to keep your hands or mouths off each other, you had sex twice more before falling asleep.

Unable to come to an agreement on whether backup would be necessary at this point, you and Marcus finally decided to bring one officer to investigate the Riverbend Hot Springs with you. An extra pair of eyes could be useful, on that you both agreed.

Known for its scenic outdoor pools on the banks of the Rio Grande, visitors usually flocked to Riverbend. The facility not only had the hot springs, but hotel rooms and spaces for recreational vehicles as well. The manager was less than pleased when Marcus informed him that any guests present would have to stay in their rooms and out of both the common and private pools during the search. The last thing the investigation needed was public interference or contaminated evidence.

Searching the private pools first to appease the guests and resort manager, Marcus swiped his hand over his sweaty face when you found nothing.

“Let’s check the common pools now,” he sighed, wondering if it would be another fruitless adventure.

Another two hours of searching – lifting stones, moving decorative displays, going inside the pools themselves, even going so far as to request a shovel from the grounds crew to poke around in the landscaping – turned up nothing.

“At least there’s only one pool to go,” you said, trying to stay positive about finding something. “This has gotta be the one, right?”

“Let’s hope,” Marcus replied. Drenched in a mixed of sweat and mineral water, he wanted nothing more than to slip between cool sheets with you and an ice-cold drink. This case sucked.

Located at the far end of the property, overlooking the Rio Grande, a rock wall encased the final pool for support given the topography on the side along the river dipped lower. Marcus directed the officer to start at one end while he joined you in working your way up from the riverbank. Thorough in your search, you left literally left no stone unturned. One particular large slab placed in the landscaping next to the pool like a decorative display required your and Marcus’ strength combined to lift, and you gasped when you saw what sat in hiding beneath it.

“Is that a fucking trap door?” Marcus asked with a grunt as he glanced down and pushed the rock slab to the side.

“Yeah, it fucking is.” Bending down to open it, Marcus stopped you.

“Wait a second, Jersey girl. We don’t want to just go rushing down there.” He called the officer over for a quick chat, asking him to find the manager and see if anyone knew anything about where the trapdoor led.

Minutes later, the manager and resort engineer joined the group. No one knew a damn thing about what they found. It wasn’t depicted on the as-built drawings or any other schematics the engineer had on file. That did not bode well. Turning to the officer, you asked him to call for back up.

“We’ll head down to scope it out. Come down once backup gets here. In the meantime, please keep the guests away from this area,” Marcus directed the officer and manager before turning to you. “Ready, Jersey girl?”

Pulling your service weapon from its holster, you nodded confidently. “With you at my side, I’m ready for anything.”

Marcus flashed that boyish grin before wrenching the trapdoor open. As suspected, narrow steps carved into the stone descended down into darkness. Before Marcus could ask for one, the facility engineer handed him a flashlight.

Stepping carefully down the steps with the flashlight held high in one hand and his service weapon in the other, Marcus descended into the dark unknown with you right on his heels. At the bottom, a pathway led through more rock, dim light visible in the distance. You reach out while walking along the pathway to find the rock is surprisingly warm.

“I expected it to be cool to the touch,” you murmured, not wanting to make too much noise in case someone or something waited in the shadows.

“Hmm?”

“The walls,” you pointed when Marcus turned around. “They’re warm.”

Directing the beam of light in the direction you pointed, Marcus touched the back of his hand to the wall and looked back at you with a questioning brow. “How?”

“I have no fucking clue,” you shrugged.

“Latent heat from the surface?” he took a guess.

“Your guess is as good as mine. We’re below ground deep enough that it shouldn’t be this warm.”

Marcus continued on down the path, the rock walls growing warmer the farther you progressed. Finally, you turned a corner into a dimly lit chamber, the air filled with oppressive heat making it hard to breathe. You both scanned the room for threats, finding none. The chamber was oddly free of spider webs or bugs or people, aside from the two of you, but a pool of water bubbled inside a ring in the stone floor. Above the pool, an abnormally large, fiery opal appeared to float in the air, the glow from it the only source of light in the chamber aside from the flashlight in Marcus’ hand.

“What the fuck?” you questioned, confused as all hell why the gem just floated in air. “I’m getting some real X-Files type vibes and I DO NOT like it.”

Marcus couldn’t help the twitch of his lips even though he was just as confused as you. “This must be the Flame of Quetzalcoatl.”

“Ya think?” Your nerves made you snarky, a trait Marcus found profoundly adorable and endearing.

Stepping closer to the artifact, Marcus shielded his eyes from the fiery glow. He reached out with one long finger, nearly touching the object when the grinding sound of rock against rock reverberated through the chamber. Jerking back instinctually, both you and Marcus drew your pistols on the sudden intruder.

“Who the fuck are you?” you blurted at the man, your nerves shot to shit, your FBI training the only thing holding you together at that point.

Wild-haired, with oddly composed attire, the man practically vibrated with energy, a glint of insanity in his eerily green eyes. Under one arm, he carried another landscape painting, likely just stolen from another gallery. As if by magic or something equally befitting the utterly odd nature of this entire case, the other stolen paintings appeared, strategically placed along the rock walls rounding the chamber.

“I really don’t like this, Marcus,” you said through gritted teeth. His concerned gaze met yours briefly. “Me either, Jersey.”

It happened, as these things tend to do, suddenly and unexpectedly. The man lunged forward, dropping the painting without thought, and reached a trembling, emaciated hand toward the artifact. Marcus matched the man’s movement, reaching for him rather than the floating, glowing gem. In the process, a glass pedestal you didn’t even know was there, nearly invisible but surely the reason the artifact appeared to be floating in air, toppled over, sending the artifact flying.

You watched, awestruck and frozen in shock, as Marcus tackled the crazy man to the hard ground and the artifact shattered against the rock wall, simultaneously. Almost immediately, the temperature plunged until a damp coolness filled the formerly stuffy chamber, and the man shrieked in despair.

“No! No! No! You’ve ruined everything!” The man continued screeching. Moments later, TCPD officers rushed into the stone room, a few assisting Marcus with securing the thief in cuffs.

Among the backup that just arrived, the police chief stepped up to your side as you gave Marcus a hand in getting back on his feet. “Strangest thing,” the thick-bearded, squat man in uniform said, “the temperature dropped at least twenty-five degrees out of nowhere, just as we started making our way down here. Am I to believe it had something to do with whatever happened down here?”

You and Marcus shared a look before shrugging at the police chief. “I have no clue what even happened down here,” Marcus admitted. Tilting his chin in the crazy man’s direction, he added, “Your boys will bring him in for questioning? We’d like a shot at him, too.”

“Of course. We’ll get him processed. Come by the station whenever you’re finished up here.” The chief followed the officers escorting the man from the chamber, leaving behind a forensics team to gather evidence.

Standing above the shattered artifact, you sighed. “How the hell do I write this up in a report?”

“Very carefully and creatively,” Marcus replied with a smirk.

The interrogation didn’t take long, the man caving like a deck of cards in the wind. His name was Edmund Fawkes, a local starving artist driven mad by the excessive heat. Already obsessed with ancient mythology and local lore, he discovered the hidden chamber containing Quetzalcoatl’s Flame and, seeking the power and prosperity described in the legends, decided to take possession of it by appeasing the ancient god with landscape paintings.

It didn’t work, clearly, but Edmund was relentless in his insanity, continuing his thievery until you and Marcus caught him.

None of it made sense and there were so many things that could be attributed to entirely coincidental circumstances that you didn’t really care how the pieces fit together. The thief had been caught, the paintings returned to the appropriate galleries largely undamaged, and the town was no longer in the clutches of a deadly heat wave. That was all that really mattered.

On your way out of the police station, the case solved as far as the bureau was concerned, you turned to Marcus. “How long are you sticking around?”

Gazing at you with those chocolate puppy eyes, his lips twitched into a grin. “I have several weeks of PTO saved up. Figured I’d use some of that. Maybe all of it if I have a reason to.”

You grinned back at him. “I’m sure we could find a reason for that.”

An hour later, the sun dipping past the desert horizon, you found yourselves naked and neck deep in the soothing mineral water of a private hot springs pool. Given that business was completed, you checked out of the hotel the bureau set you both up in and reserved a room at the best resort in town for a couple days of relaxation.

“I’m going to miss this odd little town, especially Harry and his dingy pub,” Marcus said, pulling you closed to his side as you soaked in the soothing water.

“Me, too. I’m going to miss you most, though. I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you, both professionally and otherwise,” you admitted, leaning your head against his bare shoulder.

Marcus stilled for a moment before tightening his hold on you. “Why don’t you come back to DC with me?”

“What?” Your head tilted back to meet his eyes.

“You said you put in for a transfer back to the east coast, right?” You nodded and he continued. “Well, come back with me and we’ll have that transfer fast tracked. I’m certain there’s a position for you in DC. We won’t be on the same team, but that’s probably a good thing.”

You giggled at the boyish grin he flashed you. “If you’re sure, I’m game. I just don’t want you to feel like we’re rushing into anything.”

“Pssh, rushing, smushing. I’ve waited long enough to find someone like you. Now that I have, I’m not letting you go,” Marcus insisted. Gesturing between you, he added, “I mean it. There’s something amazing here, I know it. We can leave in a few days, spend a week or two exploring the city and each other before getting back to work.”

At a loss for a worthy response, you pressed your lips against his. The soft kiss quickly turned heated as you spun, straddling his lap, with your hands gripping the stone edge of the pool. Marcus ran his fingertips down the slick skin of your bare back as you squirmed into place, his cock swelling to life at the feel of you above, against, around him.

“I haven’t gotten a chance to ride you yet,” you murmured against his lips, grinding your bare pussy down on him.

“Now’s your chance, Jersey girl,” Marcus gasped through a moan. “Take me and use me, baby.”

Overheated despite the contrasting bite of cool air on your damp skin and warm water engulfing half your body, you eased yourself down onto his cock. You’d never get used to the exquisite stretch as he split you open. Drawing out the anticipation, you slid down his length with agonizing slowness, eliciting delicious whines from Marcus.

“Don’t torture me, baby. Please,” he begged to no avail. Peppering his handsome face with kisses, you kept the pace slow and torturous until he writhed beneath you.

At last, you took his full length inside you and started to move, bouncing eagerly on his cock with your head thrown back in pleasure. Marcus’ eyes stared at your breasts, bobbing along the water line and glistening from splashes of the mineral water as you moved on him. Mesmerized, he could look nowhere else, and his fingers shifted to pluck at the hardened peaks of your nipples.

The air temperature continued to drop as night set in, steam rising up from the warm water of the pool, dancing along your skin in beautiful swirls of water vapor. The clear, starry sky the perfect backdrop to your love making – for that’s what it was now, so much more than sex this time as you gave your whole self over to this wonderful, unexpected man who changed your life in a matter of days.

Overwhelmed with feelings, you keened as his cock nudged at all the right placing, your clit stimulated by grinding on his lap. “Fuck, Marcus. I’m gonna cum.”

Marcus thrust his hips upward at that statement, eager to drive you straight over the cliff into that beautiful abyss. “Do it, baby. Come all over my cock, my beautiful Jersey girl.”

Always good at following instructions, you did just that. Your eyelids slipped closed as you spasmed around him, head thrown back in ecstasy, his name falling like a prayer from your lips.

“That’s it, just like that,” Marcus crooned, pressing soothing kisses to the sensitive skin of your neck. “You’re strangling my cock, baby. Gonna make me come too, sexy girl.”

A few more erratic thrusts upward and Marcus came with a fury, cock pulsing with rope after rope of his spend deep inside you. Breathless and exhausted, you clung to each other until shivers settled in from the plunging temperature.

“Let’s get inside, my Jersey girl. We’ll clean up, climb under the covers, and cuddle while we make plans for the future.”

fin

#little lady kinky may #writing challenge 3.0 #iamasaddie game #marcus pike #marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike smut #marcus pike fluff #mystery #aztec myth #nonsensical plot

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whorety-k · 3 days

Text

Ebony Coasts [Part 7] [Final]

Pairing: Merfolk!Corvus Corax x fem!Marine Conservationist!Reader (second person POV)

Song recommendation: The Night - Aurelio Voltaire “This just seems very strange to me / that her quiet lonely streets / Draped in all their mystery / could be so sweet and comforting / But the night / she calls me.”

Warnings: NSFW, Ocean mentions / potential thalassophobia, culture shock and misunderstanding between species, SMUT, I repeat NSFW CONTENT, utter fucking FILTH, author’s interpretation of merfolk anatomy, likely unrealistic anatomy, consent and communication are sexy, praising, temperature, scent kink, size kink, tummy bulge, breeding kink talk, disgustingly fluffy and sickeningly sweet

Word Count: 3.4k

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6]

A phosphorescent haze clouds your vision and blurs the edges of each shape. Sounds muddle in your ears and everything became unclear around you, but you had been here before and you knew the way to go. Each step simultaneously feels like a light year and an inch as you make your way through the cavern, and it was difficult not to find yourself dizzy on the suffocating atmosphere. When had you become so out of breath?

You duck your head into the bedspace, eyes catching on the myriad of shining treasures lining the walls once again. Corvus sat alone in the center of his nest, teeth worrying into his lower lip. The ebony and ivory merman lie twitching on his side and covering his eyes with a slick forearm, huffing out little fluttery breaths. You couldn’t see so much as hear the wet slide as he rolled his hips and grunted with each thrust.

Parched, you lick your lower lip and try to approach the squirming figure, feet heavy with each labored step. Each footfall makes no sound within the small space, swamped by the needy huffs and twists. You reach out to place a hand against Corvus’s wide back, surprised to find the surface hot to the touch. A massive arm rolls up to reveal pleading black eyes, consuming you whole as the pale mer reaches behind you and harshly drags you over.

The hand at your back plasters you against his clammy skin, Corvus rolling onto his back to make it easier for him to hold you close. His lips move, but you’re unable to decipher any of what he’s saying as you move forward. He tugs you closer again, a bit more roughly than you’re used to. The action sets you off balance, pressing chest to chest with your mer and gripping on tightly to avoid slipping. Drunk on the aura of musk, you lean forward to kiss him, lips parted as he melts into you—

A final jolt through your body finds you waking with a start, panting against porcelain skin like you’ve just finished a marathon. You sit up with a groan. That dream again. You’ve been having them since the admission of Corvus having to share his ‘genetic material’ to craft his ‘sons’. He hasn’t done much more to explain that scenario, letting your brain run wild with the concept in all sorts of traitorous ways.

Your entire body feels hot in your lounge clothes and you grip your shirt collar to fan yourself out, blind to the hand on your shoulder until it shakes you once again. Bashfully, you look up.

Corvus is staring down at you with squinted eyes, scenting the air carefully. He moves a cold thumb to stroke your burning cheeks, speaking in a voice laced with concern, “Are you well, my pearl?”

Still winded, you nod your heavy head… only to notice the red streaks your nails have carved into the soft canvas of his chest. Oops. “Oh, shit! I’m so sorry!” you squeak, running a palm over the lines in an attempt to soothe them.

Corvus places a calming hand over yours, stopping you. “That dream must have been intense for you to have attacked me so,” he banters, chuckling, “There is no need to fret. Your claws are far too dull to harm me.” You look into Corvus’s eyes with a guilty expression, and he tuts at you before bowing down to place a kiss at the crown of your head. “You are forgiven,” he says, and you smile. You feel Corvus readjust himself beneath you.

“Intense is a way to put it,” you reply, sweatpants rustling as you shift lower into his lap to lessen the strain of looking at one another. Corvus’s nostrils marginally flair at the movement, but he doesn’t comment on it. Instead, a cold hand finds your hip and keeps you from going any lower than the first line of scales over his tail.

Corvus nods his head, “You had been tossing fitfully for a long while, but the clawing prompted me to wake you. I apologize for interrupting your slumber.” He takes one of your hands in his, rolling your fingers between his idly as if studying them.

You make a claw-hand with the opposite and pantomime the motion of swiping at him. Playfully, you announce, “Maybe you should be more careful of having an apex predator in your bed.”

Corvus eyes you incredulously, blinking once. “Perhaps I should,” he rumbles. The bastard taps you with one of his own claws as he lets your fingers go, resting his hand on your thigh.

You scoot forward, accidentally placing your hands beside the mer’s cool gill covers as you frown up at him in challenge, but you’re almost sent tumbling when Corvus reflexively twitches upwards. He’s quick to catch you and apologize, but now it’s your turn to give him a skeptical look. “Can’t handle my ferocity?” you taunt.

Corvus’s cheeks tinge a dusty mauve and he averts his gaze, focusing on a rusted coin on the wall. “I argue it’s your intensity,” he admits, taking another heavy breath of air.

You recline, intent on staring at him until he explains himself, but the action of sitting back causes your hands to brush against the soft fins at the front of his scaled hips. Swiftly, you place them to the side and bark out a, “Sorry!”

Corvus’s eyes blow wide, chest broad with a held breath as he forces himself to calm down. His mouth hangs open as he lets out a tense pant, easing back against the bed of furs with a thump. His head rolls back, and you hear a mutter of, “Throne, give me strength…” under his breath before clawed hands grasp your hips, holding you firmly in place.

Beneath your palms, the smooth expanse of scales distorts, noticeably tented under your fingers. Shifting causes Corvus to suck in another breath, snapping his head forward to stare at you.

Oh.

The mer holds strained eye contact with you as you both sit in silence, neither of you daring to move and break the tense moment. Your heartbeat thrums in your ears as the ever-watchful gaze of the mer pins you to the spot. Tentatively, you press a hand into the bulge, your careful caress rewarded with Corvus’s eyes rolling back into his head and a careful buck into the touch.

You try to press against him again, but Corvus uses the grip he has on your hips to slide your body lower, thrusting up against the apex of your thighs. A moan spills from your throat as you throw your head back from the rough contact, rocking your hips back to meet him.

When you look forward again, Corvus is staring at you, expression hesitant. He rakes his eyes up and down your body, taking in the pretty curve of your back. Internally, the mer is at war with himself: torn between what he knows he wants and what he thinks is right. His mouth opens and closes as he attempts to find the words to say.

“This isn’t… wise. I don’t think—”

“Please.”

Corvus is caught off guard by need in your tone, eyes snapping up to meet yours again. His mouth closes in a grimace, eyebrows knitting together as he thinks. He teeters the line of reason and yearning, so afraid of hurting your fragile body, and so unable to handle the consequences if he does. What would he do if you were injured by his unnatural strength? He could not take you to an apothecary, nor could he get you to another human. He was useless outside of his designated purpose, and you had no business entertaining his biological responses.

“Corvus.” You say, reaching toward him.

He hadn’t even noticed his eyes drifting until you called out to him. Reluctant eyes find yours once more, and he sighs. He presses his face into your palm, squishing it between his hand and his cheek. Though still so full of want, his eyes regard you with a tender reverence that his dream counterpart could never get right.

You smile at him as he gazes at you.

“I want you,” you breathe.

The words cause Corvus’s shoulders to visibly relax, and he discards his former train of thought. Who is he to deny you this? You’ve been nothing short of caring, both in regards to him and to his sons. His little human that fought to protect his home, always brought him little treasures, and treated him so kindly despite what he is. He could have wed you the moment you sacrificed your sweet treat for Shrike despite having only just met him, only proving the radiance of your kind heart.

For you, Corvus could do anything.

You let out a startled yelp as Corvus lifts you up, switching your positions with a graceful roll. He places you down onto the makeshift bed gently, taking advantage of the new position to place his large head between your thighs.

The scent of you so close drives him wild, causing the mer to salivate at the intoxicating aroma of your arousal. He maintains eye contact as he drags his long tongue across the damp fabric of your sweats. The taste makes him whimper, and he can’t help but grind his hips into the furs.

You gawk down at Corvus, rolling into the contact with a hot breath. “Do you want me to take those off—”

“Yes.”

Corvus sits upright, watching as you shuffle out of your sweats, dragging down your underwear with them. You kick off the fabric as it pools at your ankles and lay back, completely bared before him. The sight awaiting you has you salivating.

Dressed in a rosy flush, Corvus leans over you with hungry eyes, propped up on his hands. The fins at the front of his hips are parted, a purple-grey slit drooling desire as the head of his cock pushes its way out. His chest rises and falls with heavy pants. Your mer looks utterly ravenous.

You stare at his length as it emerges, swallowing the saliva pooling on your tongue. He’s huge, tapered from head to base not unlike a dolphin, and as if to prove the point, Corvus brings his hips to yours, resting himself over your abdomen. You’re almost surprised by the cool sensation, but not nearly as much as he is by the warmth.

“There’s no way I’m taking all of that without some really good stretching.”

Corvus seems to agree, nodding, but he doesn’t stop himself from rutting once between your folds before shifting back, eliciting a soft moan from you. He looks down at his clawed hands with a frown, lamenting the inability to do such a task himself.

You give him a sympathetic look and make to reach between your legs. “It’s alright, I’ve done this plenty of times before—”

A lightbulb flickers behind Corvus’s eyes, and he pushes your hand aside. Instead, the pale mer leans you back against the furs once more, tilting your hips up and parting your thighs. You watch as he licks a stripe between your folds, flicking your bud with the tip. The pads of his thumbs have no trouble opening you up before he’s pressing the tip of his tongue into your tight little hole.

You keen out a noise of pleasure, unable to contain yourself as Corvus devours you like his final meal. He pulls away to plant kisses along the inside of your thighs before delving back in for more of your honey, chin glistening with a mixture of spit and arousal. The burning stretch of his tongue is delicious, drawing forth more pleads and cries. Corvus thoroughly explores your dripping cunt until you can feel that distinct coiling in your abdomen, heart hammering and breaths leaving you in ragged whines.

“So sweet, little gem,” he sighs, laving your nub and pressing a kiss to it, “So good.”

The tension in your body snaps as he dives back in, and you come hard on the giant’s tongue, heels digging into his shoulders and holding his head still. Corvus moans with you, helping you coast down from your high with a cool hand rubbing circles on the outside of your thigh.

You shudder as Corvus withdraws his tongue and licks you clean, before doing the same to his sopping chin. You give him a hazy look as endorphins flood your body, moaning as you feel his cockhead tease against your entrance. “I wish it wouldn’t be so difficult to kiss you like this,” you murmur, and Corvus’s ear fins droop.

“Alas, there is little we can do to remedy that,” he replies, sliding back and forth between your folds. You can’t tell which of you is wetter, but the easy glide is intoxicating and makes you feel all the more empty. “Do you feel ready?” Corvus asks with another drag along his shaft.

You nod your head, pulling your legs closer to your chest to make the impending stretch easier. “Please, I do not know how much longer I can— Oh!” He didn’t either.

The feeling of his cock breaching your cunt makes your head spin. It’s cold, but it feels divine. You swallow him greedily, breathing heavily as you adjust to the intrusion. Even with the combined slickness, the stretch burns. You throw your head back, eyes clenched shut as the mer works you open.

Corvus leans forward, bending at an awkward angle to get as close to you as he possibly can. “You’re doing so good, so warm,” he whispers, waiting for your body to acclimate. He kisses the crown of your head tenderly while stroking a parted thigh. When you think you can take it, Corvus presses in the final few inches until his hips are flush with yours, stretching you to the hilt.

You let out a deep breath before opening your eyes, staring into that comforting abyss you’ve come to love. He cups one of your cheeks and smiles down at you, curtains of black silken hair tickling your cheeks. Reaching down to feel the connection between you, you’re surprised to feel a prominent bulge in your lower abdomen. You lean up to look at it, and Corvus follows.

“You take me so well, my pearl,” he mutters, placing his hand over the mound and gazing longingly at the rounded flesh. His voice is heavy with thought, almost distant as he speaks, “You would be gorgeous, carrying my sons.”

Corvus’s tone carries melancholy, and it aches you to have such a beautiful moment tainted by it. You place your hand over his to redirect his attention to you, clenching down around him. “Then fuck me like I could.”

Your words draw a snarl out of the giant, one of his hands clutching the bedding beside you before slowly withdrawing his hips, then slamming into you. The first thrust jolts you half a foot up the bed before Corvus’s hands find your hips, dragging you back to meet him as he fucks into you. His cock punches up into you in a way that has you blabbering utter nonsense. Your thighs are slick with your juices and his, a symphony of wet slaps as his hips repeatedly meet yours.

Above you, Corvus’s head hangs as he moans praise. “Humans… are so hot. So tight,” he babbles, losing any semblance of higher thinking as he drunkenly plunges his cock back into your pussy with a gasp, “Such a good girl, taking all of me…”

Your walls flutter at the praise, and you drop your hold on your legs, letting them splay wide around Corvus’s waist. With a shout, your nails find the meat of his forearms, scratching the white flesh there and pulling a hiss from the giant as you clamp down around him. You’re grateful for this beach being protected and so far away from anybody, else you would be fearful to face another living soul later from the sounds you’ve been making.

Corvus slows, lost in the feeling of your cunt pulsing around his cock as you cum again, gently rocking his hips into you to help you ride out your pleasure.

You pant and whimper beneath him, encouraging him to continue. “You haven’t cum yet,” you whine.

Corvus’s hips continue their unhurried roll, grinding against you once more before they still. He sits back to pull out, stating, “I do not need to. I am content with this.”

You, however, are far from content with that. Even thoroughly fucked open and tired, thighs coated in a dusty purple liquid and your own cum, you have at least one more round in you, and you are not leaving here without a thorough examination of a new species.

Your heels lock against the sides of his hips, only just able to hold him there. “I want you to finish.”

Corvus shakes his head, “I can finish another time—”

You’re having none of it. “Inside of me.”

He stares at you, and you stare back. The sudden feeling of being speared open once again sends a shock of heat up your spine, Corvus’s hips meeting yours in an instant. Instead of fucking into you with abandon, though, he savors the feeling of you around him. The languid pace allows you to watch each shudder of his pale skin, or admire how his eyelids flutter when he pushes all the way in. Gorgeous groans erupt from his chest when you clench down around him, causing the rhythmic bucks of his hips to stutter. Inky black eyes gaze down into yours as if you were the moon and the stars.

You reach out for him, palm open and patiently waiting. And, just as he had in your dream, he meets you halfway.

But this Corvus is your Corvus. Gentle. Sweet. Caring. A far cry from the rough pulls and pushes your subconscious had imagined.

His pace begins to falter as he grasps your hand in his own, eyes rolling back. You snake a hand down to your clit to help finish yourself off, and the tremors of your walls tip Corvus over the edge. For a final time, your body trembles as you cum on Corvus’s cock. The moan Corvus emits is nothing short of sinful when he spills cold seed deep inside of your core, cock twitching with each spurt of semen. His hips continue to grind against you until the spasms stop, drawing back and pulling out.

Corvus gently pushes your body to the side before dropping like an anchor onto the bed, panting like a dog. He tucks himself away, then rests his head on folded arms, hair completely disheveled.

You turn to face him, wincing at the feeling of lukewarm cum dripping down your inner thighs. The air is moist and heavy with the smell of sex and salt. A little cleanup is going to be necessary— some of the furs underneath you are genuinely beyond saving— but, for now, it can wait.

When your hand finds Corvus’s shoulder, he picks his head up to look over at you, face full of adoration and wearing a soft smile. “Are you satisfied?” he mumbles.

You nod your head, lifting yourself up to rest your chin on his bicep. Corvus lifts a knuckle to stroke your cheek, and you lean into the affectionate touch. A strong midnight tail curls around your smaller body, bringing you close enough for Corvus to turn and wrap his arms around. In a dance you’ve practiced what feels like a hundred times before, you tuck your head under his chin and close your eyes.

“I love you,” you voice, placing a kiss to the top of a pectoral.

Corvus freezes around you, dumbfounded. His mind races with a million different reasons why you shouldn’t— but for once, he shuts it down. You love him, and nothing would stop the fact that you would do everything to prove it, just as he would. You offered the pearl, and you accepted the pearl. To Corvus, you are greater than any piece of treasure he could bring into his den, and that’s all he needs to know.

Instead of a voice of complaint, you’re suffocated half to death within the grasp of an ecstatic purring merman and he holds you tighter.

“I love you too, my pearl.”

Sticky, satisfied, and happy, the both of you drift off to sleep in the disaster of a bed of your own making.

--------------------------------

@bispecsual

Happy final day of Mermay everybody!! I hope this has been worth the long wait it took. I had a lot of fun with this mini-series and Iearned a lot as a writer.

Not as a person, though. I'm a freak for Big Men and I know that. You know that. We all are afflicted.

Thank you guys for sticking around!!

#warhammer 40k #warhammer 40000 #warhammer 30k #corvus corax #primarch #primarch x reader #corvus corax x reader #warhammer fanfic #mermay #raven lady writings

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cheynovak · 2 days

Text

Sugar - Part 6

Soldier boy x F/ reader (Y/N)

Warnings: age difference, anger, hurst, angst

Side note: English isn’t my first language. First time no smut in the sugar series... Don't worry I'll make it up in the next chapter

*Does not follow The Boys storyline *

Y/N is a college student who pays her apartment, bills and school tuition with the money she makes as ‘sugar baby’ for Soldier boy. What started as just being a companion on lonely moments became quickly more physical. But how will Y/N cope with the dominant side of Ben when he finds out she has a life beside pleasuring him?

The engine purred softly, a steady, calming sound as Y/N sat beside Ben in the passenger seat. The sun was shining bright, casting a golden hue over the world outside, and for a moment, she allowed herself to get lost in the beauty of it. It had been a long day yesterday, filled with the usual anxiety that came with introducing someone new to her parents.

Ben had been charming and polite, just as she knew he would be, but her thoughts kept drifting back to the conversation she had with her mother this morning.

"Y/N," her mother had said in the kitchen after breakfast, her eyes filled with curiosity and concern, "So, what exactly is going on between you and Ben? Did it change into something different than, you know...?"

Y/N had paused, taking a moment to choose her words carefully. "Don't expect a relationship, Mom. I... I still don't know what Ben wants, but I know he doesn't want attachment. Doesn’t mean he isn’t a good man."

“I still don’t understand why you gave up your relationship, your future for something... you know money. But it’s your life sweety, as long as your happy.”

Y/N took a deep breath “He’s just very clear about traditional relationships.” Her mother looked at her, knowing it did her more than she would ever admit. “What about you, Y/N?” She smiled soft “I’m just glad to have him in my life.”

She hadn't noticed Ben standing just outside the kitchen door, his face shadowed with a look of hurt that he quickly masked before joining them. “Ready to go?” he asked. Ben hadn't mentioned what he heard, and she had been too preoccupied to realize he might have overheard.

Now, sitting beside him, the weight of that unspoken moment pressed down on her. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. His profile was illuminated by the sunlight, and he looked calm, as if the yesterday hadn't fazed him at all. But Y/N knew better. She knew there was more behind his silence, more than he was willing to show.

"Yesterday was nice," she said, breaking the silence. "Thank you for coming with me." Ben turned to look at her, a small smile playing at his lips. She answered his smile with her own, but it didn't quite reach her eyes.

Ben noticed her sad eyes and parked the car on the side of the road, Y/N looked confused. “I heard what you said to your mom this morning." Her breath caught in her throat, and she turned to face him fully. "You did?" He nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. "Yeah, I did."

"I'm sorry," she blurted out, the words spilling out before he could stop them. "I didn't mean to... I just didn't know what to say, because I didn't want to put any pressure on you."

He was quiet for a moment, his eyes searching hers. "Y/N, I get it. I really do. And you're right, I don’t want anything traditional. But I want you to know that I'm here because I want to be.” Her heart skipped a beat, hope blooming in her chest.

Ben smiled, a real, genuine smile. Y/N felt a mix of emotions swirling inside her. She was happy to hear Ben's reassuring words, to feel his warm hand on her thigh, and to know that he wasn’t going anywhere.

But there was also a lingering sadness, a small ache in her heart as she wondered why he didn't tell her exactly what he wanted. Was it because he wanted to go back to how it was before?

No, she knew he wanted her. He had made that clear before, in the way he looked at her, in the way he touched her, and in the moments they had shared, it all had changed since the beginning. He was softer and she had declined his money in hope he noticed the change too.

She hoped he wanted her the way she wanted him, not just as a companion or a friend, but as someone to build something with. She wanted to know if he saw a future with her, if he envisioned a life together, if he loved her the way she was beginning to realize she loved him.

Seeing him at the dinner table with her parents, making love, it all fell into place. She knew she wanted him by her side. "Ben," she said softly, turning to face him again, "can I ask you something?"

"Of course," he replied, his eyes gentle and attentive.

"What do you want from us? From... this?" She gestured between them, her voice barely above a whisper. "I know you care about me, and I care about you too. But I need to know if we're on the same page."

He took a deep breath, his expression hardening. I can't give you... I can’t say what you want to hear," he said, his tone sharp and distant. His bluntness hit her like a punch to the gut, her breath catching in her throat. “Oh-ok.” her voice trembling.

Her heart clenched painfully, tears welling up in her eyes. "So, what are we doing then?” Ben looked away, his jaw tightening. "What we’ve been doing, it's just good for now." The words cut deep, and Y/N felt a wave of sadness and disappointment wash over her.

"Just good for now..." she echoed, feeling her heart break a little more with each passing second.

He turned back to her, his eyes conflicted but his expression still guarded. "I don't want to hurt you, but I can't lie to you either. I can't give you more than this.” She pulled away from him, wrapping her arms around herself as if to shield her heart from further pain.

"I do care about you," he said, his voice softer now, but still holding back. The sun’s beauty was lost on her now, the golden light doing nothing to warm the chill that had settled in her heart. "I need more than that, Ben," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I know. I can't give you that right now. Maybe... maybe you deserve someone who can."

She looked down, her tears spilling over and falling onto her lap. "Maybe I do," she said quietly, her heart breaking. The silence between them was heavy, filled with unspoken words and shattered while they made their way home.

Ben's hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white with tension. He kept glancing over at Y/N, but she stared straight out of her window, her face a mask of sadness and resignation.

When they finally pulled up outside her building, Y/N didn't wait for him to say anything. She unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the door, stepping out into the cool evening air. "Goodnight, Ben," she said quietly, her voice devoid of its usual warmth.

"Y/N, wait," he called after her, but she was already walking away, her shoulders hunched against the pain she was feeling. Ben watched her go, feeling a deep sense of regret and conflict.

He knew he had broken her heart, and the weight of that knowledge was almost too much to bear. He wanted to run after her, to tell her that he did want her, that he wanted a future with her. But the fear of not being able to live up to her needs, of failing her, held him back.

As she reached the entrance of her apartment building, she turned around one last time, her eyes meeting his as he stood by the car. In that moment, he saw the raw hurt and disappointment she was feeling, and it cut him to the core.

"Y/N," he started, taking a step towards her. She shook her head, a single tear slipping down her cheek. “Please don’t.” and then she was gone, disappearing into the building.

Ben stood there for a long moment, his heart aching with the weight of his indecision. He wanted to chase after her, to hold her and tell her everything she wanted to hear. But the fear of not being enough, of not being able to meet her needs, kept him rooted to the spot.

He finally got back into his car, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. As he drove away, the image of her tear-streaked face haunted him. Once home, Ben sat in the darkness of his living room, the silence pressing in on him.

He replayed the moment in his mind, over and over, until he couldn't stand it any longer.

The week that followed was one of the longest Ben had ever experienced. Each day dragged on, filled with an emptiness that gnawed at him. He knew he should call Y/N, should try to make things right, but his stubbornness and fear kept him from picking up the phone.

He was afraid of facing the emotions he had stirred up, both in himself and in her. One afternoon, unable to stand the silence any longer, Ben decided to go to Y/N’s college. He had never been there before, but he needed to see her.

As he walked through the bustling halls, he finally spotted her in the courtyard, surrounded by students.

She was in the middle of a lively conversation, her face lit up with a smile as she spoke with a young man. The sight of her laughing and looking so at ease sent a sharp pang of jealousy through Ben. He stood there, rooted to the spot, watching as the young man leaned in closer to say something, causing Y/N to laugh even harder.

Unable to contain his emotions, Ben strode over to her, his expression dark and brooding. Y/N noticed him approaching and excused herself from the group, walking over to meet him halfway.

"Ben, what are you doing here?" she asked, surprise evident in her voice.

He didn’t respond to her question. Instead, his jealousy and frustration boiled over, and he lashed out. "Who was that?" he demanded, his voice harsher than he intended. "Why are you flirting with him?"

Her eyes widened in shock, and she took a step back. "What? No, Ben, he's just a friend. We were talking about a job opportunity at his fathers shop." The students nearby, sensing the tension, began to whisper among themselves, wondering who the older man was and why she seemed so upset.

Ben ignored the curious glances and stepped closer to Y/N, his anger not yet spent. "A job opportunity? It didn't look like that to me. You seemed pretty cozy with him or is that it? Find someone new that quick huh."

Y/N's shock turned to anger, and she crossed her arms over her chest. "You don’t get to come here and accuse me of things, Ben. Especially after a week of silence. You don't get to do this."

He couldn't help but let his emotions get the better of him. "How can I trust you when you're surrounded by people like him?" Ben blurted out, his voice rising again.

Y/N's eyes flared with anger. "Ben, stop! This is ridiculous. You're making a scene."- "I don’t care!" Ben shouted, the frustration and fear bubbling over. "You need to understand how it looks!"

Y/N took a step back, her face flushing with both anger and embarrassment. "How it looks? Do you hear yourself? This is my education, my life! You don’t get to come in here and act like this. I have a life besides you!"

Ben’s expression hardened. "Well, maybe you should find someone else to pay for your school then. Maybe your friend over there is willing to pay you, or maybe his daddy dearest will.”

The words hung in the air like a toxic cloud, and Y/N's face went pale. Around them, the students who hadn't yet left the courtyard stopped and stared, whispers spreading like wildfire.

"Ben," Y/N said, her voice trembling with a mix of fury and hurt, "Leave. Now." Ben's eyes widened as he realized what he had just implied, but before he could say anything, Y/N turned on her heel and marched away, her back rigid with anger.

He stood there, stunned, as the gravity of his words hit him. He had meant it as a low blow in his frustration, but the damage was done. The students who overheard were already piecing together their own version of events, and rumours began to circulate.

The next few days were a nightmare for Y/N. Everywhere she went, she felt the eyes of her peers on her, heard the hushed whispers following her down the hallways. Guy coming up at her asking what they can get for 50 bucks.

"Did you hear what he said?"

"Is he really paying her way like that?"

"I can't believe it. She seemed so nice."

Y/N tried to ignore the gossip, focusing on her classes and her work, but the constant buzz was wearing her down. Her professors noticed the change in her, and one even pulled her aside to ask if everything was okay. She managed to put on a brave face, but inside, she was crumbling.

One afternoon, as she was heading to the library, she was confronted by the young man Ben had seen her with. He looked genuinely concerned. "Y/N, can we talk?" he asked, his voice gentle.

She sighed, nodding reluctantly. "Sure, what’s up.” "I heard what happened," he said, keeping his voice low. "People are saying some awful things, and I know they're not true. I just wanted to check if you were okay."

Y/N felt tears prickling at the corners of her eyes but blinked them back. "Thank you.” You shouldn't have to deal with this alone. Is there anything I can do to help?" She shook her head. "I appreciate it, but I need to handle this myself."

As he walked away, Y/N's phone buzzed with a missed call. It was from Ben. Her fingers hovered over the screen, but she couldn't bring herself to reply. Not yet. The wound was too fresh, the hurt too deep.

That evening, Ben sat in his apartment, staring at his phone, hoping for a response that never came. He knew he had crossed a line, and the realization of what he had done was eating him alive.

Unable to sit still, he grabbed his jacket and headed out, his mind racing. He found himself outside Y/N's apartment, seeing the lights were out in her apartment. He sat on the steps, waiting, hoping she would come home soon so he could at least see her, apologize, try to make things right.

When she finally arrived, she stopped short at the sight of him. Her face hardened, and she walked past him without a word. "Y/N," he called after her, standing up. "I need to talk to you." She turned around, her eyes blazing. "You've done enough, Ben. Just go home."

He took a step towards her holding her arm. “Listen to me.” Her eyes locked on to his, ice cold. "No" she snapped. "Do you have any idea what you've done to me.” Ben opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off. "No, Ben. We're done. You need to leave me alone. I can't deal with this anymore."

“Y/N” He could barely say her name.

Her eyes teared. “I thought this whole macho toxic persona was just a wall you build up. I would have done anything for you! But to belittle me like this, to embarrass me in the middle of a courtyard full of people when I don’t react the way you want me to, when I need time to deal with my emotions, is where I draw the line.”

She took a deep breath,

“I’m done, Ben.”

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