Untitled

Walking into the house rick noticed it was quieter than usual. Usually you’d be up and about, cleaning, cooking or doing the laundry. But it was silent

He kicked off his boots and wandered further into the house, taking notice that you did in fact clean up, but you were still nowhere in sight. He walked up the stairs, each step he took a noise was made beneath him from the old wood the house was built on.

As he reached the door to your shared bedroom, he couldn’t wait but come to a halt as he heard a voice coming from the closed bedroom door. Hand covering the door knob he expected nothing less than a dark room, a light breeze coming from The window you left open every night in order to fall asleep faster than listening to the dead-silence that filled the house when Rick wasn't there.

He grunted as sat down on the bed. he ran his hands through his hair, tugging at it in pure exhaustion. he heard moving from behind him which made him cast a look over his shoulder to where you were laid down at.

you had Huffed and puffed in your sleep, hips grinding against the pillow you slept with in-between your legs. he raised his eyebrows, suddenly remembering the voice he heard, which turned out to be none other than you moaning in your sleep.

He slowly got up from the bed and walked over to your side of the bed. he stood over you and waited, and waited, until he heard that sweet song of his name fall from your lips.

"Rick, fuck. baby"

Rick crouched down, his hand reaching out to softly move your hair from your face to see the fucked-out expression you had in your sleep.

"aw, poor baby" he muttered to himself. His pants got uncomfortably tight as he continued to watch you basically fuck yourself in your sleep.

In your dream everything felt real, so fucking real.

He had you, hands pinned above you while he forced your body down to the bed. The entire room was filled from wall-to-wall with the sounds of your moans and the distrusting sound of his wet cock slipping in and out of your abused cunt. Your whole body shook with another incoming orgasm.

"wanna cum, please" you begged again, having been denied to cum since he put you in the position you were in. But again, no matter how much you begged he just simply chuckled and continued on fucking you like you were some sort of toy.

He never said anything to you in your dream. Just simply fucked and fucked you until your whole body ached.

Rick listened and absorbed your movements. The way your face twisted into nothing but pleasure and neediness while your hips shamelessly grinded into the pillow, fuck, he felt his breathing pick up, he needed to wake you up now.

“Sweetheart” he lightly shook your arm. “Sweetheart wake up, now” he saw the confusion in your eyes as you opened them, however he also saw a tear fall from your eyes.

“Rick?” You lifted your hand from your pillow to softly crease his cheek. You couldn’t stop the sob from falling from your lips as you looked right into his blue eyes. “It wasn’t real?”

Your body fucking ached with a strong desire to cum.

“No, sweetheart it wasn’t” he moved the hair from your face and tucked it behind your ear. “Want me to make it real”

You nodded your head, body laying flat onto the bed as he climbed ontop of you. He placed both hands on either side of your head as he leaned down to place a gentle but firm kiss to your lips, immediately you moan hands flying to grip onto his grayish hair. He took your moan as opportunity to force his tongue into your mouth.

He opened your legs wider for him to settle in-between. The kiss turned sloppy and nasty in a matter of seconds. He broke the kiss to plant kisses down your cheek to your neck, he left harsh bites that would be insanely hard to cover up but you didn’t care, you loved the pain of his teeth sinking into your neck. A deep groan from behind your throat fell from your lips as he backed his knee into your throbbing cunt

He knew exactly what he was doing by doing that, knew that just the slightest pressure on your cunt was on a high risk of making you come undone.

“Rick, please” you sobbed grabbing a handful of his shirt. “It hurts please” it truly did hurt, everything hurt on your body, you’ve never needed him more than before.

“Aw, baby, where does it hurt" he slowly traced his hand down your body, starting from your neck down to your tits and finally down to your panties, his hand hovered above the white cotton ones you wore. “Does it hurt here?” He messed with the waistband and watched as that small movement made your breath pick up.

You nodded fast, “y-yes, there it hurts” your back arched off the bed as he laid a slap to your covered cunt. You tried to close your legs but he was quicker than you and prided them open.

He pulled your panties down your legs, tossed them somewhere behind his head and Immediately went to work. You moaned loudly as you felt the wetness on his tongue lay directly on your cunt. His tongue moved all sorts of ways that he knew would make you more than Beyond weak. You couldn’t stop the tears from flowing down your face as you felt his tongue slip in and out of your hole, while his fingers rubbed circles on your bub.

“My god, rick please” one of your hand flew to grip onto his hair while the other grabbed onto your tit, “don’t stop” he continued slurping your wetness from your cunt.

You felt your body began to shake and finally that high you were chasing in your dream came true in reality. Your mouth hung open as you came, a load of silent moans fell out. “Fuck, fuck rick” your breathing was fast as you came back to reality.

Rick lightly slapped at your cheek, “you still with me honey” you nodded, completely dumbfounded. “Aw she can’t speak” he mocked your silence.

He sat up on his knees, “i know a way to make you speak again” he unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants down just enough for his cock to spring free. He hovered back over you, “still stupid, uh?” He tapped his tip against your wet and clenching cunt which made you snap back to reality.

“Am not stupid” just saying that made you feel stupid, and the laugh that left his mouth made you feel even worse.

“Of course you’re not stupid-“ you grasped as you felt his cock fill your tight hole, “just stupid enough for my cock that you dream about it” you grabbed onto the bedsheets as he sped up his movements enough that the headboard started banging against the wall.

“Fuck you feel good honey, tell me” he grabbed onto your neck, bringing your face close enough that you could feel his breath on your face, “tell me, you prefer the real me, not the dream me. Because only I can make you feel this way.

A slight jealousy of himself wasn’t something you would expect, but you suppose the real rick was ten times more better than a dream version of himself.

“Of-of course the real is better, fuck rick” he threw your head back down onto the pillow and continued on with his brutal thrust

He calls out to you but you were already moving towards your house that you unfortunately shared with Carl. Figuring that he would assume you were going to go to your house you decide to go somewhere else instead, somewhere he wouldn't expect. Having had a head start, you quickly escape his line of sight and make your way toward Carols house.

The two of you were close and you knew she would be able to comfort you about this. As you're crossing the street you run into someone. You had kept your head down so no one would notice your tears and weren't really paying attention to what was in front of you.

"Woah there, you alright Y/n? You sure are in a rush." You hear Rick say to you, still looking at the ground. "Sorry." you quickly mutter before attempting to walk around him. Rick grabs a hold of your arm to stop you. "Hold on a second, lemme see your face." he says suddenly curious about why you refuse to look up.

"Rick please, I need to go see Carol." you reply, hoping he'll let you go. "She isn't here, she's on a run with Daryl." he tells you. "Y/n, look at me." Rick says as he lifts your head so you're now facing him. He looks shocked at your tear stained face. For the short while he's known you he's never seen you so upset.

"What happened, is it something with Carl?" he asks knowing that the two of you have bee going out for a couple months now. Hearing Carl's name makes you let out a small sob. "I caught him with Enid at the lake." you tell Rick, fighting back another sob. Rick pauses for a moment before telling you that you can come back to his house until Carol gets back.

The two of you make it back to his house and you sit on the couch while Rick grabs you a drink. Your tears have stopped falling now as a sudden wave of anger washes over you. How could Carl do this after how good you've been to him? As Rick brings you your drink you suddenly get an idea.

You want to make him hurt the way you do and you know just how to do it. "Is there anything I can do for you y/n? Just because Carl did this doesn't mean O want you to think I don't care about you anymore." Rick says sincerely with a gentle hand resting on your knee.

"Make me forget." you say simply. "I'm not really following." Rick says giving you a confused smile. You make close to him causing his hand to move farther up you leg, dangerously close to your core. "Make me forget." you repeat yourself with a look that Rick can't tell you if you're begging or demanding.

"Y/n, I-" Rick begins before you cut him off. "Carl will never know besides he can't really judge considering what he just did with Enid." you tell him. Rick think a for a moment before speaking. "This can only happen once. You understand?" he says looking you in the eyes.

"I understand." you reply. As soon as the words come out of your mouth Ricks on you. He's surprisingly eager considering he seemed to hesitate just a moment ago. Maybe he wasn't so worried about this after all. You fall back onto the couch as Rick settles on top of you between your legs.

You begin to tug at his shirt as he kisses along your neck. "Take this off." you tell him before gasping when he brushes a certain spot. "Your awfully demanding." he says as he leans back to take off his shirt. "We're gonna have to fix that." he mutters as he pulls you up so you're chest to chest.

He removes your shirt and bra before flipping you over on your stomach. You attempt to look behind you but Rick pushes your head back down. "You stay just like that." he tells you as he backs up to pull your leggings and panties down. He props your hips up so he can get a better look at your cunt.

You push your hips back trying to hurry him up but this results in a smack to your ass cheek. "You just don't know when to stop, do you?" he says as he runs a finger through your folds before pushing it into your hole. You let out a whine at his slow pace. "Something wrong?" Rick asks taunting you. "More." you whimper into the couch cushion.

"More like this?" he asks as he slows down until he's barely moving his hand. "No". you respond weakly. "Or more like this?" he asks as he adds another finger and increases his pace significantly. "Yes." you moan as he brings his other hand underneath you to play with your clit. He continues with these motions until he can tell you're getting close.

He abruptly pulls his fingers out and goes to unzip his jeans. Just as your about to complain he replaces his fingers with his cock. "Oh my God." you call out in suprise. Rick continues his brutal pace and once again brings his hand back to your clit.

"Fuck, yes." you say, beginning to move your hips back to meet Ricks thrusts. "Look at you." he says watching as your ass bounces back against him. He slows his pace and lets you fuck your self as he simply watches you. You only quicken your movements once you realize he's slowed down.

You two are so focused on the intimate moment that you don't hear the back door open and shut. You only realize that you two are no longer alone when you hear your ex boyfriends voice from the doorway. "What the fuck is this?" he exclaims. You feel Rick still completely in shock.

You continue moving your hips for two reasons. One was because you could feel your climax approaching quickly and the other was because you didn't care that Carl was there. He had hurt you first and if you decided to get back at him by sleeping with his dad that wasn't really your fault, was it?

A/n: Ngl this was a bit hard fo me to write bc I can't rly see Carl or Rick doing either of these things but this is fanfiction after all. That being said I had been wanting to write for Rick so that helped<3

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you hobbled alongside yelena out of the elevator, dried blood staining both of your heads. your partner in what you could kind of call crime sighed before she took a step and softly said, "we're ok. it's going to be ok." with that thick russian accent of hers.

the mission that val pitched to you sounded simple- raid the vault for some magical artifact that belongs in the hands of doctor strange, and get out. simple. she grossly understated the amount of guards protecting the loot. this could have been a four person job, but no. it was just you and yelena. if it wasn't for your mutations and quick thinking, everything could have gone very bad tonight. you got the job done. after a lot of blood and brain matter spilled, you got the job done.

she suffered probably a couple of fractured ribs at most, while you definitely got the worst of it. too many lacerations to count, alongside some broken bones too, probably. you needed to drink some water as you felt like you were about to pass out. you walked towards the fridge as yelena sat down at the kitchen island.

"im going to fucking strangle valentina for this. talking about some-some stupid two person job!!" she rambled off into some russian tangent that you couldn't even remotely understand. your vision blurred as you tried to reach for a cup. "yel." you muttered under your breath. "and all for what? some stupid ass crystal? i can't with these dumb missions she gives us, i swear to the gods above." she went on and on as you put your hands on the counter to steady yourself.

"yelena." you said strongly. "get...g-get help." yelena shot up and ran over to you as you fell into her arms. "oh shit! oh fuck! barnes! ava! walker! alexei! shit, i need someone!" her voice faded away as you closed your eyes.

you woke up on the floor, with yelena and john kneeling on either of your sides. "you scared me half to death, girl. don't do that shit again, for my own sake." yelena sniffled. pain radiated through your chest and head. "how long was i out for?" you asked, slowly bringing your hand to your forehead. john looked at yelena. "I'd say like, 'round 6 minutes. maybe." yelena nodded. "something is not fucking right with me. i need to go to the med bay-" you started to say as you tried to sit up, but could barely make it 5 inches off of the ground as you yelped. "woah woah now. you gotta calm down. i'm gonna take you down there, see what the hell you did to y'self." john got up to his feet before picking you up, surprising you how easily he did so considering you were practically limp. yelena herself stood up before yelling out to you as you traveled towards the elevator, "you're in good hands!"

john put you down on one of the tables in the bay. "what exactly happened tonight? you got yourself fucked up, i can tell that much," he said as he looked for some bandages in a cabinet. "well, for starters, this was not a fucking two person mission. we needed like, at least two others. there were so many hostiles all for this stupid artifact." he nodded as he continued to look for supplies. "and then we couldn't even open the damn vault door normally, so i had to magic it open or whatever and it was so heavy. like, so heavy. i nearly fainted on the spot but we had to get out of there quick. so, yeah. got beat the fuck up, got out, that was it." john walked over to you with a bandage tape roll in hand.

"sounds rough." he quipped.

"i think it was a bit more than just rough, actually." you rolled your eyes. "got bruises all over your body, blood dripping from your damn head, and still got energy to sass me. crazy shit.." he shook his head as he leaned on your table. "and here i am, taking care of you, and you still treat me like a pile of shit." you sighed painfully and groaned. "ok. ok! im sorry for treating you like a pile of shit even though im bleeding out and hurting and probably have a sort of excuse." he sighed exasperatedly. "you really are such an idiot, you know that?"

"im your idiot."

you saw the gears momentarily grind in his head before he just muttered, "yeah, whatever.." as he grabbed a couple more things- a washcloth, a couple of antiseptic wipes and some pain meds. he stood beside you and stared at you, looking at you like you were dumb. "what?" you lowly shouted. "take off your damn shirt! i need to take a look at you, dipshit!" you groaned of annoyance. "at least take me to dinner first, johnathan, jeez!" you cackled as he went red, looked up and ran his hands down his face and groaned. you finally tried to sit up before your breath hitched and mewled in pain. he looked down at you and the way you genuinely struggled. "it hurts?" you painfully nodded. you mustered up all the strength you had left and managed to sit up. you unzipped your jacket and threw it on the ground, trying to ignore the baby blue eyes gazing upon you. you were left in a crimson stained undershirt and your bra underneath as he examined your arms and shoulders.

he ran his fingers up and down your arms, seeing if you would flinch from any possible pain. "anythin' hurt?" you softly shook your head. "no..." he nodded and took his hands off of you, leaving you cold. "you gotta take everything else off." you snapped your head towards him, opening your eyes. "everything?" you said. "well, everything except your pants, yeah." you genuinely wanted to faint again, right then and there.

"look, im not the one making this weird. just take off your damn shirt so i can patch you up. okay?" he said softly.

you looked at him in those baby blue eyes that made your heart skip a beat, sighed and then nodded. you peeled your shirt over your head, leaving you in your bra. you watched him try to avoid your chest, as he moved his eyes to your neck and then your stomach, looking for injuries. nothing except a couple of bruises. he moved toward your back, which was far worse. "goddamn," he whispered to himself. "is it bad?" you said, worried. "well, kinda. you have a really bad, deep cut across your back that's going to leave one hell of a scar and a bunch of nasty colored bruises. once i clean it up you can go." he grabbed the antiseptic wipes and started to open them. "wait. is that going to hurt??" you said, gesturing to the wipes in his hand. "not any worse than what you've been through tonight."

he held a wipe in one hand as he paused. "i, uh... i need you to take your bra off." he said, as monotonously as he could. you were too tired to argue as you knew he would just make you do it anyway. you tried to reach the back but your shoulders ached. "can you undo the clasps for me?" if only you could see the way he bit his lip and the way his face flushed as he undid them for you in one smooth movement. he then bothered to slide the straps down from your shoulders. "thanks," you whispered as he said nothing back.

"it might sting a little." as he held the wipe up near your back. "just try to stick through it." he put it to the wound and he was right- it did sting, but it wasn't too bad. he wiped your back, viewing all of your nasty bruises as you felt his eyes burn holes through them. "they'll probably be gone by thursday. the bruises, i mean," you said. "having a healing factor is pretty handy, y'know? he threw the wipe away as he finished up. "yeah, but the cut is pretty nasty. just be careful with it. don't put your shirt back on, it's dirty. just go shower and put something else on. he grabbed your jacket, shirt and bra on the floor and gave it to you, looking the opposite direction out of respect. he also grabbed you a small towel, which you assumed was to cover yourself with as you dashed back to your room. you covered your chest with it and sighed. "john?" you said softly and sweetly as he looked at you in your eyes. "i know we bicker a lot, but uhm. t-thanks for this." he nodded. "just doin' my job." you stood up slowly with little pain, as your healing factor had already started to kick in. you walked towards your room as john stayed back to clean up the supplies.

as you were in the shower, you thought. you thought hard. you had a lot on your mind. like how you and yelena were going to probably jump that bitch, val. like how you need to buy more conditioner. how you need to go visit stephen strange and ask him how important that artifact was that you had to put your life on the line for it. but at the forefront of your mind was how john acted towards you today and boy did it have you conflicted. were you being kind of an asshole earlier? man, did you hope he knows you were just kidding. maybe you need to lighten up on the stupid teasing. but at the same time, it's not like he's all the way innocent. half the time, he started it. probably more than half the time. so why? why did you always want to bicker with him? you shut off the water and grabbed your towel as you head into your bedroom.

you towel dried your hair (which probably isn't good for you, but you were too tired to care.) as you sat on your bed in an oversized band tee and shorts, mind blank as you closed your eyes and zoned out. you peace was interrupted by gentle knocks at your door. you waited for another knock to see if you were just imagining things or if someone was truly knocking- when you heard the second set of taps, you got up to open the door. now, at this part, it was nearly 3 in the morning. the thunderbolts were definitely night owls, but after 1 or so everyone usually just stuck to themselves.

when you cracked open the door, you were met with the sight of the 6 foot something super soldier with the strawberry blond mop.

"hey." he said a little too cooly.

"hey."

"i just...wanted to check in on you and see how you were doing."

"that's very sweet of you, walker." you sweetly said as you leaned on the doorframe.

"i can't tell if you're being sarcastic or not."

"why would i be sarcastic? all i said was that it was nice of you to check in on me like that. that's all."

you could see the corner of his mouth turn upwards as he looked away and shook his head. "yeah, yeah, whatever." he muttered.

he looked back at you again before saying, "but seriously. are you feeling ok? you need anything?"

"im ok john. i promise you i won't die in my sleep."

"ok. you better keep that damn promise." he said as you both quietly chuckled.

"goodnight walker." you said as you closed the door softly.

"g'night."

you walked over to your bed, ready to go to sleep, when you heard knocking at your door once more. you turned around to open it up once more.

"I, uh, wanted to tell you, look. this isn't a dig at belova or whatever, but, if i was out there instead of her, i wouldnt have let you get hurt out there." john desperately blurted out.

"joh-"

"i would have killed everyone in there if anyone got a hit on you."

"..john."

he locked eyes with you. you gazed into those dangerous, baby blue eyes with the slightest dots of brown in them. a couple seconds went by as you two just stared at each other.

"do you want to come in?" you finally asked, breaking the silence between the two of you.

again, he stared at you, this time trying to make sure it was real. he nodded quietly.

"i mean, do you want me to?"

"i don't know. what if i said yes?"

"then id come in and do anything you want."

"what are you implying, walker?"

"you're stupid, but not that stupid."

"oh, look at this. you want to come in my room, but tease me while standing in the doorway, calling me stupid. see how sometimes you treat me like sh-"

he grabbed your neck and smashed his lips onto yours. his lips were so warm, and soft, and the grip he had on you was strong yet soft.

"you talk too fuck'n much."

you kissed him back, wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands fell to hold your pretty waist.

you broke the kiss to only say, "that's rude."

"no, that's honest." he kissed you again, cheeks hot with red as one of his hands travelled down to your ass, cupping one of your buttcheeks as he bit your lip, your tongues rubbing all against each other, making the wettest, most disgusting noises.

you broke the kiss again, leaving him momentarily trying to lick the air before he opened his eyes. you quietly giggled as you said, "so, what are you trying to do tonight, pretty boy?"

"why would i tell you when i can show you better?" he picked you up and closed the door behind him, carrying you with one of his massive arms toward your bed. he set you down gently as he peeled his singlet over his head. he crawled between your thighs, kissing and licking your neck, letting out soft needy sounds that you could only describe as whimpers.

"tell me that i can give you hickeys...want everyone to know that your mine now.." he whispered in your ear before biting your ear love gently. "mark me up, soldier boy." you said with a devilish grin on your face. you gasped as he latched on to your neck, licking and biting and kissing and slurping all over, leaving reddened spots all over your neck. "aww, don't tell me you've been so mean to me every single damn day when all you wanted to do is give me some sugar, johnny?" you snickered as you played with his strawberry blonde hair. he nodded and moaned a "mhm" into your neck. " 'm sorry ive been mean...i was trying to hide my feelings, i guess..." he shamefully admitted before kissing your neck again. "that was so cute. hehe!" you said before he sat up.

"ok, now tell me. what have you been dreaming about?" he said as he pushed your thighs apart, making himself comfy between your legs. "well, a lot of things..." you cooed. he gently ground against your clothed pussy, making you softly moan, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand. "tell me, doll. tell me all the nasty things in that little brain of yours."

"ive been thinking of how pretty you'd moan when im licking and slurping on your dick..." you whispered seductively, making john lower his head and close his eyes as he ground harder against you. "ive been wondering how loud you'd get if i was bouncing on your cock. wondering if you'd get loud enough for the others to hear." he dragged out a moan. "jesus fucking christ," he groaned as he sat up, starting to untie his grey sweats before he paused. he snapped his head up at you, waking up from his horny daze. "you on birth control?" he blurted out. you nodded, "mhmm."

"good. 'cause im gonna fill this pussy up tonight."

he took his sweats off, leaving him in his navy blue boxers. his bulge was respectfully huge and left you hot with anticipation. you watched him as he peeled those off too, leaving his rock-solid dick hanging in the air. he caught you staring and of course it fueled his already enlarged ego. "like what you see, sweetheart?" you couldn't help but lick your lips and nod. his pretty pale coral colored tip drooled precum and softly twitched. "take your shirt off." he commanded and boy oh boy you have never followed a command that quickly- not even in battle, honestly. he peeled your shorts down, leaving the both of you hit and naked. he massaged your hips briefly before pinning your thighs apart and down, using one hand to drag his tip against your wet folds.

"im gonna put it in, ok? just tell me if it's too much, if you want me to stop. ok, pretty?" you simply nodded, waiting for him to put it in. he slowly slid inside of you, stretching you out as you moaned. as he bottomed out, he had you seeing stars as he just stayed like that for a while. he licked your lips before he slowly receded his hips then bucked them towards you again. the way you squeezed around him had him going insane. as he thrusted faster, you rubbed on his chest before resting your hands around his neck. "mhh, johnathan, j-just like that-" he was low-key kinda weird. he liked when you got federal like that and used his whole name. he groaned in response.

his thrusts got steady and persistent as he snapped in and out of you. your pretty moans rang through the room, mixed with the sinful sound of skin slapping against skin, with john's moans sprinkled in there too.

your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt yourself getting close. "john, please..im getting close.." you moaned nearly breathlessly. john nodded as his moans sounded melodic. "ahh, me too, baby. cum with me baby, fuck.." his thigh fingers circled your clit and that was all you needed. once. twice. your pussy clenched around his dick, squirting all over him, wettening his thighs. as you clenched, he kept thrusting into you, chasing his own high until he hit it, pearly white coating your insides as he slowed his thrusts until he stopped completely.

the two of you just stayed like that, air heavy as you rubbed his shoulders. "that was so good, john." one of your hands moved to caress his face gently. he tiredly smiled at you. "yeah. that was really good. really fucking good.." he slowly pulls out of you, leaving his cum dripping down your ass. he laid next to you on his side, arm draping over to rub on your boobs gently. "so." you said. "what does this make us?"

he looked into your eyes. "well, id say those hickeys on your neck means your mine now." he gave you a toothy georgia smile. "yeah, id have to agree with you."

the two of you spent the rest of the night cuddling and saying sweet nothings to each other, making up for time lost flirt-bullying as the world went silent. you slept in his arms and you slept in his.

much later the next day, when you got up to ava and yelena chatting in the kitchen, they both never let you hear the end of it.

"see? what did i tell you? she was in good hands!" yelena cackled as ava bent over laughing.

"i dont think you guys could have been louder, queens could probably hear you! jeez, didn't know you could get it on like that, girl!" ava laughed. bucky was sitting on the couch, shaking his head trying to block out the absolute filth he was hearing. you rolled your eyes and sighed. "you guys..." you giggled as you couldn't help but give into ava and yelena's chaotic laughter.

the end

-----

“Jake Seresin didn’t deserve you.” My best friend Rebekah said through my speaker of the car while I had my phone connected to it through Bluetooth. I had told her that I had broken up with the Navy pilot with the Callsign : Hangman last night.

The fight happened after Jake saw a message on my computer that I hadn’t told him about yet. I didn’t think that I needed to, considering he didn’t bother to tell me when he left for deployments or where they were going to be. The specific location I understand needed to be kept secret, it was the first part that I couldn’t stand. And that wasn’t even the whole reason I decided to end things with him. Jake and I have been sleeping together actively since our one year anniversary.

Every time he’d come home from deployment we’d simply fall into bed together and not really do anything more than sex. This has been consistent for the past two years - and I couldn’t take it anymore. He clearly has been only keeping me around for the sex in between the sheets.

Slumping my shoulders heavily I turned my car into the driveway of my apartment building, quickly changing my tone by what I saw directly in front of me. “I should have listened to you when you said he had a reputation of one night stands - oh no chance in hell he is here!”

“What! His freaking truck is in your driveway.” Rebekah gasped, shouting. “Give me ten minutes and I’ll be over to drop kick his ass!”

Smacking my hands on the steering wheel I turned the engine off and hung up the phone. “That ain’t necessary, Bex. I’ll handle this myself.” Climbing out of my vehicle I walked up to the door, unlocking it with my keys. Pushing the door opened I clutched my keys deep into my palm aggressively with the door slamming harder than I meant to.

“Long time no see, Y/n.” Jake greeted me with an annoyed grumble under his breath.

“Pff. I don’t think you got the message last night that I don’t want to see you ever again.”

Jake stood in the middle of my apartment, fists clenched at his sides, still wearing his flight suit. His boots left faint marks on the hardwood. He hadn’t even taken them off. “You weren’t going to tell me,” he said, voice sharp.

I leaned my body back against the front door, arms crossed. “I didn’t think I had to.”

“You’re taking a job with Homeland Security. You could be stationed anywhere. That’s not something you just drop in a text.”

“I didn’t drop it in a text. You found the email on my laptop.” I snapped back in defense.

Jake’s jaw flexed. “Because you left it open. Because you weren’t going to tell me.”

I stepped away from the door, eyes blazing as I walked closer to him. “You disappear for months at a time, Jake. You don’t tell me where you’re going, when you’re coming back which I get comes with being in the military, or even if you’ll even be alive. And I’m supposed to sit here and wait - does that seem fair to you?”

“That’s not fair.” He rolled his eyes. “You’re not innocent here either. It’s not fair for you to lie to me.”

“No, what’s not fair is you showing up every time you’re back, expecting me to be here. Expecting me to drop everything because you’re finally ready to feel something.”

“I do feel something,” he snapped. “I feel everything when I’m with you.”

“Then why do you only show up when you need comfort? When you need someone to hold onto for a night. Why only show up so you can have meaningless nights in the sheets with me?”

Jake stepped forward, close enough that I could see the storm in his eyes. “You think this is just about sex?”

“I think it’s about convenience.” I stomped past him and almost went into my bedroom but he managed to stop me.

He grabbed my wrist—not hard, just enough to stop me from walking away. “You think I fly halfway across the world, land at midnight, and come here because it’s easy?”

I didn’t answer him. I didn’t know if I truly could.

“I come here because it’s the only place I feel like myself. Because you’re the only person who doesn’t treat me like a damn uniform.”

“I didn’t tell you about the job,” I said quietly, with my breath hitching in my throat. “because I knew you’d look at me like this. Like I betrayed you.”

Jake’s voice dropped. “You didn’t betray me. You scared me.”

I couldn’t physically do much more than blink my eyes a couple times and part my lips slightly, taken back by the words that just came out of his mouth. Jake Seresin, the cocky and flirty navy pilot standing in my living room just admitted that I scared him. Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought he was capable of admitting something that emotionally deep and personal.

He’d shown me his genuine and loyal side that he rarely showed others around him. He’d shown me the side that deeply cares for his family and sometimes hinted at maybe wanting a family of his own someday. I believed him in the past - lately though I couldn’t picture it.

Yanking my wrist from his grasp I attempted to stomp away again but he was quicker than me. Jake gently shoved my back up against the nearest wall, hands on either side of my head caging me in with his body. “I wish you were someone I never met. You play with girls' hearts, Seresin. You charm them into bed with you and then leave when it starts to get serious!”

“That was the old me, Y/n. The guy who hadn’t met you yet.” He raised his voice at me, our breath mixing together with how close he had his face to mine. “Give me a chance to prove you wrong.”

“You’re so full of yourself. This relationship will only ever be about a night in the sheets for you.”

His blue-green eyes darkened as he crashed his lips hungerily down onto mine. “There’s more to this relationship than that, Y/n. There always has been darlin, you’ve just been afraid to admit it like I have.”

“Jake-“ Pushing my hands against his chest I tried to make him stop but he kept pushing back with more heated kisses that took my breath away from me.

“Shut up.” He kissed me quickly, dragging one hand from the wall and wrapping it tightly around my waist, pulling me impossibly flush against his hard body.

His mouth broke away from mine only long enough to blaze a trail down my neck, sending shivers that had nothing to do with fear ripping through my core. I finally wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. With a grunt, Jake scooped me up, never breaking the connection of our mouths, and began moving toward the bedroom. I felt the sharp edges of his belt buckle pressing into my side.

By the time we reached the bed, the urgency was frantic. He dropped me onto the mattress with a controlled roughness that left me gasping. There was no time for careful removal; every piece of clothing became a hindrance. The sounds of zippers and buckles hitting the floor mingled with our ragged breathing. His Texan swagger was replaced by a singular, focused intensity. His hands were everywhere—making me just as breathless and desperate as he was.

He hovered above me for a brief, intense moment. His eyes dark and dilated, searching mine. It wasn't just lust I saw there, it was the raw, terrifying honesty of the man who admitted I scared him. And then he was moving, filling the space I hadn’t known was empty. The rhythm was fast and consuming, a desperate pace mirroring the intensity of our argument—all friction and fire.

I gripped the sheets, arching into him, unable to hold back the sounds that were dragged from my throat. It was too much, yet not enough. It wasn't gentle; it was a crashing collision that felt like falling from a great height and finding solid ground. When the dizzying wave finally broke, leaving us both panting and slick against the crisp sheets, the silence returned, heavier and more telling than before.

Jake rolled onto his side, pulling me immediately with him, tucking my head against his shoulder. His arm locked around my waist, as I let my fingers trace the line of his collarbone. Feeling the rapid thump of his heart beneath my palm before I passed out that night.

The next morning -

I blinked my eyes open the next morning, tangled up in sheets and limbs that felt too familiar. Jake’s arm was draped across my waist, his breath steady against my bare shoulder. For a moment, I let herself pretend that nothing happened. Pretending that last night hadn’t happened. Pretending that the job offer wasn’t sitting in my inbox. Pretending that this—this quiet, this closeness—was enough. But it wasn’t.

I shifted, and Jake stirred. His eyes opened, slow and heavy, like he already knew what I was about to say. “I haven’t accepted it yet, I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d try to stop me.”

Jake sat up, rubbing a hand over his face. “I wouldn’t have stopped you.”

“You’re doing it now.”

Tossing the sheets off I climbed out of bed, shrugging my discarded shirt from last night back on once I’d picked it up from the floor. Walking to the kitchen. The coffee pot was cold and I didn’t bother reheating it. My laptop sat on the counter, screen still glowing with the message - Final Confirmation Needed.

Jake appeared in the doorway, shirtless, eyes unreadable. “You really think I only come back for the nights?”

I lifted my head up with a glare back at him. “I think you come back because you don’t know how to stay.”

He stepped forward, but I didn’t move. “I want to try, I don’t know how—but I want to. I don’t - I don’t want to lose you.”

“You might, because I’m not waiting anymore.” My mouse button hovered over the “Accept” button on the laptop screen.

Jake’s phone buzzed on the counter. A message from base. Deployment orders.

I looked at him. He looked at me. No one moved for a moment or two. Until I finally clicked- Accepted.

Jake turned away, jaw tight. I carefully watched him go, unsure if he’d come back. The door didn’t slam. It just… closed.

I stood in the silence, heart racing. I truly didn’t know what else to do at this point. Honestly now I was wishing that I had never met him then everything would be easier - until my phone buzzed and there was a text that read.

Jake: If you’re going, I’m not letting you go alone.

The first shot was of his smile. That ridiculously perfect, all-American grin that had already graced the cover of three major magazines this month.

I tapped the screen of my phone, zooming in just slightly. Glen was leaning into the interviewer, his hand resting casually on the elbow of his co-star, Amelia. They both looked radiant, bathed in the blinding white light of the Los Angeles premiere.

He was wearing the custom midnight-blue suit I had suggested, and his hair was painstakingly messy—the kind of mess that costs hundreds of dollars to achieve. He looked like Hollywood’s golden boy.

The casual, easy charm he radiated felt like a personal insult beamed directly into my living room, where I sat in stained sweatpants, trying to ignore the fact that the leftovers in the fridge were getting sadder by the minute.

Because that man, the one talking animatedly about "artistic collaboration" and "the magic of cinema," was supposed to have been home twelve hours ago.

My internal soundtrack was a low, simmering resentment, occasionally punctuated by the twangy sounds coming from the speaker on my counter. I hadn't realized I’d put on my "Sad Country" playlist until the familiar opening chords of Morgan Wallen’s "Last Night" drifted through the air.

I know, last night, we let the liquor talkin’...

We hadn't had liquor talking last night. We'd had work talking.

It was supposed to be our night. A rare, uninterrupted Friday. Glen was flying out to Toronto for a press run later today, and we’d agreed on takeout and an old movie, maybe a bottle of the expensive Spanish wine he’d brought back from the location. He’d kissed me goodbye that morning, promising to be home by seven at the latest after a quick round of industry meetings.

At 7:30 PM, I got the text: Babe, I am SO sorry. They pulled me into a live round table for Variety. It’s running late. I’ll be quick. Home by 9, tops.

At 9:45 PM, I started eating the cold Thai food alone.

At 11:00 PM, I received the call, the one where his voice was tight with forced enthusiasm, the one where he said, "This interview went ballistic, Y/n. They need me to do a follow-up right now—it’s a massive publicity push. I won’t be home tonight, but I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

And now, almost a full day later, here he was, dazzling the world on a red carpet with Amelia, his co-star who, it must be noted, was entirely lovely and also far too beautiful.

I threw my phone onto the couch cushion as if it were contaminated.

The screen lit up instantly. Glen Powell is calling.

I stared at the name for a full ten seconds, watching the little profile picture—a goofy shot of him and Brisket—flash furiously. I waited until the call dropped, then picked up the phone.

I opened my text thread with him and typed out a sharp, perfect sentence. Then I deleted it. I wasn't going to communicate via text when he was supposedly prioritizing me. He’d made his bed on the couch of whatever glamorous publicist’s office he’d crashed in.

The silence of my apartment felt heavy. It confirmed my worst suspicion: that the man who loved me existed somewhere behind the shimmering façade of the star who needed to be everywhere else.

I was contemplating changing into proper human clothes when the rapid tap, tap, tap of the front door knocker startled me.

I froze. He wouldn’t.

The knocking repeated, more insistent this time. And then, a small, panicked whimper from the other side, followed by the specific, familiar sound of a small dog scratching hardwood.

"Y/n? Open up. Please." His voice was low, raspy, and clearly not the projected, honeyed baritone of Red Carpet Glen.

I dragged myself up and practically stalked to the door. I threw the deadbolt.

Glen stood there, utterly deflated.

He was in an oversized, faded grey hoodie and jeans. The dazzling suit was gone. The perfect hair was indeed messy now, but not the expensive kind—the kind that meant he hadn't slept right. His eyes were the most striking difference: heavy-lidded, shadowed, and focused entirely on me.

At his feet, Brisket, his terrier-poodle mix, was vibrating with excited anxiety, doing frantic little circles and trying to nose his way past Glen’s legs.

"Hey," he whispered, stepping inside before I could stop him, letting Brisket shoot past him to execute a perfect flying leap onto the couch.

I crossed my arms. "Hey. Great premiere."

He leaned back against the closed door, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. "Don't do that, baby. I know you're mad. You have every right to be."

"I saw the coverage," I said flatly. "You looked very energized. Good publicity."

He flinched. "That’s the job, Y/n. I was running on fumes out there. I hadn't slept. I was trying to smile my way through the jet lag that hasn't even hit yet. And I called you—you wouldn't answer."

"Why would I? You missed our date," I said, the words cutting clean and sharp. "You missed it because you 'had to' do a follow-up interview. And then, instead of coming home this morning, you went to a premiere. You could have come home for three hours, Glen. You didn't."

He pushed off the door and took a tentative step toward me. He looked genuinely exhausted, a walking contradiction to the vibrant image I'd seen an hour ago.

"I tried," he insisted, his voice cracking from lack of rest. "I swear I tried. The premiere was mandatory press. They flew me straight from the set of the interview to hair and makeup, and the only reason I got out of Toronto early enough was because I negotiated to leave the after-party early. I literally changed in the car."

"I don't care about the logistics, Glen," I said, my voice rising slightly. "I care that you prioritize that life over this one every single time. Every single time we schedule a moment for us, it gets absorbed by the machine. And I’m the one picking up the pieces."

Brisket, sensing the shift in tone, stopped chewing his favorite squeaky toy and trotted anxiously between our feet, looking up at us both with wide, pleading eyes. Glen crouched down immediately, scratching behind Brisket’s ears, using the dog as a human shield for a moment of regrouping.

"I know," he said, head still lowered. "And you’re right. I messed up. I didn’t just miss date night, I missed us." He stood up, looking me directly in the eye. "I needed to see you before I got on that plane, Y/n. I didn't want the last twenty-four hours to be silence and the smell of expensive cologne on a borrowed suit. Don't you think I wanted to be here last night? I was sitting in that interview, trying to look charming, and all I could think about was that shitty Thai food getting cold, and you being mad at me."

He reached out and took my hand, his skin cool and dry from the night air.

"Listen to me, I am sorry I missed the date. I am sorry I didn't get home. And I know that sometimes the public Glen looks like he’s having the time of his life, but maintaining that buoyancy, that 'stress antidote' thing? It drains the actual person. The only place I can actually drop the role, actually take the weight off, is right here." He gestured around my small, messy living room. "I came straight here. I didn’t even go back to my place."

He didn't look charming now. He looked desperate and tired and undeniably real. The sheer exhaustion radiating off him was almost palpable.

"I love the work," he murmured, his thumb tracing circles on the back of my hand. "But I need you more. I need the life we have here."

I felt the anger—the sharp, defensive edge—start to soften. It wasn’t manipulative; it was raw. It was the human Glen, the one who didn't want to fly across the country on a fight.

I sighed, pulling my hand away only to wrap my arms loosely around his waist, pulling him in close. He immediately dropped his head onto my shoulder, the weight of it surprisingly heavy.

"You smell like cheap plane coffee and desperation," I muttered into his hoodie.

He chuckled, a gravelly sound. "I'll take it. As long as I smell like I'm home." He squeezed me tight, anchoring himself. "I have to leave for the airport in two hours. Can we just... reset? Can we just sit on the couch and be boring for an hour?"

I leaned back, just enough to meet his gaze. His eyes were earnest. There was no charm offensive left, only vulnerability.

"Yes," I conceded, reaching up to gently push the stray hair off his forehead. "But when you get back, we're having a serious conversation about how to keep the publicist from kidnapping my boyfriend."

"Deal," he said instantly, relief washing over his face. He kissed me, a soft, tired press of lips that had nothing to do with red carpets and everything to do with coming home.