fuzed-hostage

[fuzed-hostage]

A little teaser of an upcoming fic I’m currently writing~

The march into the ghost town went smoothly. I know we expected some resistance from the White Mask terrorist group but there was none! Strange, I know, but my thoughts at the time were optimistic. “Guess there’s no welcome party.” Thermite said with a confused look on his face while Sledge shrugged with a nod of his head. We had no trouble locating the building either, partly because I did aerial reconnaissance ahead of time. “Let’s find some rats…” I said, tapping the tablet attached to my forearm. The EE-1-D pulsed loudly, shaking the area in which its powerful sound waves hit. It would ping anything that moved, so I waited for the notification that it had found something.

That notification never came.

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Dokka lookin’ hella sad or drunk.

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Crotch shooting goblin rusher >:U

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Hmmmmmm.... I’m going to start posting again.

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List of current ideas:

-LesionJager [Request] -BanditMozzie [Request] -DocLion -MontagneDoc -BanditMozzieMaestro

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omfg

[fuzed-hostage]

RainbowSix l Siege

Doc and Montagne have been planning a date night for weeks and just can’t catch a break! After numerous attempts, they settle on cuddling but get carried away.

Rated: E [ Some Doc alone time, They finally get to ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) !! , definitely nsfw ] Parings: Montagne/Doc, Bandit/Jäger [ Mention ]

     It felt like every time there was a break in the madness that was Rainbow, something would suddenly, inexplicably, unfortunately happen right as Gustave was about to send a text to Gilles. He’d be seated in his office, reclining in the not-so-comfortable chair with nothing to do but kill time. Whatever appointments had been made that day were over and done with, it’s nearing sundown, and he’s waiting for the clock to strike ten so his shift could end.

     Fingers would tap the same message each time [>>Want to go out for dinner in an hour?<<] and then BOOM the door would burst open. If not that, he’d get a phone call, or the computer screen alerted him of an incoming message. Mozzie ate shit riding his bike with Mute on the back, Fuze and Jäger had a mishap in the workshop, Bandit tased Tachanka ( it did nothing to him ) and Kapkan stapled the German to the wall in retaliation, etc.

     On Montagne’s end, it was no different outside of the subject matters regarding whatever emergencies he was called to handle. Given his easy going nature, ability to break up fights, and calmly knock some sense into people’s heads, it was no wonder he got picked before anyone else. Lion started another fight with the SAS, Maestro and Valkyrie are bickering about who’s camera gadget is cooler, Ela called Echo a lazy fuck and now she’s being tormented by Yokai; the list goes on.

     Whenever they did get to meet up, it was on the clock and quite often during a stupid incident they both had to handle. In the case of Mozzie and Mute, the Brit didn’t lean into a turn like he should have and their crash nearly took off Thermite’s shins. Poor Mute took the brunt of the impact, whereas the Aussie had jumped back up on his feet to curse at a pissed off FBI agent threatening to torch his ride. It almost came to blows until the GIGN tag-team showed up.

     Knowing Mozzie, he bailed off of the bike prematurely out of habit and left his buddy to become one with the earth. That’ll teach them both to either never ride together again or to slow down a little and work out the details more. Well... maybe. Since when has the pint sized daredevil ever slowed down before in his entire life? Survey says: Never.

~~~~~~~~&~~~~~~~~~~

     Planning in advanced wasn’t very helpful either, what with how unpredictable the two love birds’ schedules were. Montagne would have a day off while Doc was knee deep in overtime. They also were’t ever deployed together and that just made the medic mad. He could remain professional throughout an operation while Gilles was there! Up until the larger man was hurt and then he’d probably lose his mind that is. 

     Back then he was a lot more level headed when it was just the GIGN operating within France. With Rainbow, there were ten times more shit to factor in on top of the obvious risks that the job explicitly entailed. More CTU’s, more men and women, a lot more ground to cover, an expansive array of new surprises. Tension sometimes ran high within the mixed teams, not everybody knew how to leave their baggage back at base, and it all felt like a glorified armed daycare.

     Which part of a mission would he rather be in? Right up in the action, stressed out about Gilles, and potentially becoming a liability by slipping into tunnel vision quicker or clawing at his hair, glued to the radio, and picking at his lip until it bled? He’d hurt less people back at base but the anxiety was significantly magnified and his colleagues were beginning to notice.

     Out on the field is where he believed he could make the most difference in life and death situations but Rainbow needed him back home terribly as well. Training accidents that could become permanent damage was mended by his expert hands, sickness ( be it from terrorist chemicals or natural means ) was eased by his knowledge. Montagne, as much as he wanted his love by his side, preferred that the good doctor wasn’t assigned to his squad if it was more productive.

     It used to not be that way though. One or the other would insist on coming along during the time they were dancing around each other not knowing how to interpret the signals being given. Rumors spread like wildfire about how obvious their love was and that someone should shove them in a closet so they could work out the sexual tension. There were even attempts to get them alone at a bar after arriving with a group so that liquid courage would spill the beans in the form of Je t’aime Gustave and Je t’aime aussi Gilles but to no avail.

     Montagne could hold his liquor and wine brought forth all of Doc’s pent up exhaustion, leading to an early bed time. Having the medic drink something else was like pulling teeth as his response was always “I’d like to remain in control of my mind and body, merci.” while the taller Frenchman chuckled. Sometimes, however, he’d try a sip of whatever Gilles had accepted. It was fifty-fifty on whether or not he’d like it but zero chance of him ordering it again. Doc was a hard nut to crack but it all paid off in the end.

~~~~~~~~&~~~~~~~~~~ 

     “I am getting really tired of all this madness. It’s like we’re cursed!” Gustave ranted, throwing his hands up and knocking a stapler off of his desk. He looked down at the damn thing like it had offended him by toppling over when it should have just remained put. “It is rather perplexing. Has there been a full moon recently?” Came Gilles’ calm voice as he picked up the stapler to place it back where it belonged. All his lover did was roll his chocolate brown eyes and sigh. Everyday felt like it had a full moon attached to it, bringing forth the age old curse emergency services workers dreaded. Tack that along with the Q-word and you’d have a recipe for disaster.

     “I heard there was a nice Japanese place in town. Why don’t we-” Sadly, the shield operator was cut off by the ding of his phone. He looked down at the pocket it was contained in with a sigh that starkly contrasted the fury building up inside of Gustave’s red face. With the shake of his head, Montagne placed a quick kiss to his lovers lips and departed, not knowing that his partner was secretly daydreaming about strangling whomever pried them apart.

     This trivial text happened to be IQ snitching about Caveira’s apparent stalking of Glaz. The sniper was well known for spotting the shit that nobody thought twice about. Shifts in daily routines, objects moved out of their usual place, mood swings, and, of course, his uncanny ability to pick up on when he’s being followed. So far he’s caught Taina six times and she’s pissed about it, refusing to give up even though she knows it’s childish. This will take hours of conversation, some translation, and bringing Timur in to resolve the conflict.

     Meanwhile, Doc has treated a nasty gash Seamus acquired while teaching Aria how to cook traditional Scottish dishes. They both share a love for food and wanted to surprise their fellows with what they’ve learned from one another. Good friends, those two. She’s even given Sledge some dating advice when he accidentally let slip that there’s another guy he’s interested in. While it was nice to hear that this injury was just an accident and not some rage fueled wound, Gustave wished it never happened. For one, he doesn’t like seeing his colleagues hurt and two, he needs this alone time with Gilles.

~~~~~~~~&~~~~~~~~~~

     It’s been nearly a month since he’s shared a bed with Montagne and everyone’s starting to notice how grumpy Gustave is getting. Hell, he can’t even sit with the guy in a friendly setting let alone a romantic one! Quick kisses and light touches ( such as the brushing of their hands together or a shoulder squeeze ) are all he gets and that’s unacceptable. Gilles is on a mission this time in Russia with Buck, Fuze, Jackal, and Gridlock. He’d also planned a coming over the night he got deployed for takeout and a makeout sesh that’s obviously not going to happen now.

     The upset on Gustave’s face at how badly the universe is treating them is almost palpable upon the doctor’s tensed up form. He’s had six cups of strong coffee, going on seven, and it’s barely even ten o’clock. Breakfast is quiet in the cafeteria at Hereford Base until he hears Bandit announcing his arrival. “Man, you look like you really need to get laid, Gus.” For a guy that doesn’t shrink away from Kapkan’s frightening gaze, the look Doc gives him makes the hair upon the back of Dominic’s neck stand straight up.

     He mumbles some sort of excuse to get away, steps back quickly, and departs while everyone tries to avoid eye contact when Gustave glowers at them all from his table. The rest of his day is spent talking only when it is necessary and retreating to his room immediately upon its conclusion. The staff posted for night watch better figure out how to operate without him unless the patient is literally going to die if he’s not there. He’s got faith in them only because he wants one uninterrupted night to shave off some neglect.

    Rook and Twitch went out with Blitz and IQ for an evening of casual drinking so he’s got the GIGN quarters all to himself. It’d be nice if his lover was here, but a dildo with similar length and girth will do. Gustave is wearing one of Gilles’ shirts that had been worn for half a day and wasn’t quite dirty yet. It smelled of his cologne and was a size too big to fit him, but that didn’t matter. He’s taken up residence in his lover’s room, they often do this when one was away, it was comforting and arousing all the same depending on what the intention was for this consensual invasion.

     Even though he didn’t need to keep the noise level down for a while, Gustave had already decided on forcing himself to be as quiet as he could. Preparation was done a bit quickly, fingers pushing in and scissoring right away with a groan of need tumbling from his lips. He’s touch starved to all hell and knows he’ll regret that come morning when the ache kicks in. Squatting with his feet planted flush with the floor ( thank the slav squad for helping his balance with that ) one hand holds the dildo steady while he sinks down onto it.

     It hurts going in and Doc doesn’t feel inclined to wait for proper adjustment until his cheeks meet the floorboards. “Fuck... Why did Six have to choose you again?” Montagne was an amazing operator, highly skilled, very sexy.. Get on with it Gustave. He can already see that perfectly sculpted body as if it were beneath him, holding a strong grip on both hips. It takes him longer than usual to come; soft thumping against the floor combined with muffled moans and uttered encouragements slurring into curses until a choked sound signals the end.

     He’ll sit there for a moment, still anchored onto the dildo with a shameful mess in front of him, and sighs when he finally catches his breath. It’s not the same but it is satisfying. After he cleans up and tucks himself into Montagne’s bed, the rest of his team has returned and gone their separate ways to conduct nightly rituals to get ready for sleep. He’ll greet them in the morning with a smile and a tired yawn.

~~~~~~~~&~~~~~~~~~~

     It’ll be a week before Gilles returns and during that time frame, Doc decided to ask Dominic ( of all people ) for advice. The German already knew he was dating his colleague, it was obvious as fuck, but felt inclined to help a friend in need. He kinda owed it to Gus after the crude comment in the cafeteria a few days ago. Out of all the wild things Bandit suggested, a vibrator worked the best as it was simple / discrete and pleasuring himself in the shower made cleanup so much easier. It all came down to timing those sessions right so that he wouldn’t have to be so worried about the noise.

     He spaces out masturbating with getting additional work done in preparation to have a clean slate in the foreseeable future. Bandit offers to give him a quickie here and there, but he refuses. Discussing it with his partner must come first even though they’ve talked a little bit about it before. Someone they trust would be a better alternative than trying to go at it alone. Montagne trusts Dom while Doc thinks he’s rather annoying but trusts him as well. If he didn’t, he’d not of spoken up about his sexual frustrations.

     Brunsmeier can and will take secrets like those to his grave along with other personal shit. They’ve often spent nights sitting together on the roof of the base venting about past trauma, talking about hardships, and laughing when one of them remembers something stupid that’s funny now that it was over. Bandit’s a good man, you just need to see through the jokes and rough exterior. If he’s pranking you more than others, he likes you.

     Inquiring a second time felt too awkward, so Gustave decided to wait out the last handful of days. He’ll be the first one up to the helicopter so that absolutely nothing can get in the way of their date night inquiry. Since they obviously couldn’t go anywhere, having a glass of wine or whatever Gilles felt like drinking in their quarters was a decent alternative. He’s ordered takeout and goddamn it this private time is going to happen!

     The deployed squad shuffles off the helicopter one by one, taking their gear with them. Thankfully nobody looks seriously injured so there goes that speed bump. Montagne is the last to have his boots touch the ground, he’d been talking with Jäger and thanking him for a smooth flight. He didn’t have to but it was a nice thing to do. Now, about that date... “Gilles. You and me, tonight, my room. I’ve got food and great wine.” Doc received a quick nod for confirmation and they carry on with renewed energy to finish the day. He can’t help but catch a sly grin and a thumbs up from Bandit when he passes by in search of his engineer.

     Dominic will probably ask questions come morning and, for once, Doc won’t mind. The man did help him without judgement or ridicule. He also kind of wondered how much experience Bandit’s had with how in depth he went with his explanations sometimes and the terminology. It was both embarrassing and intriguing to listen to if you ignored the gestures the German made with his hands. Gustave’s selection of the vibrator earlier was the absolute most vanilla shit apparently.

~~~~~~~~&~~~~~~~~~~ 

     Night falls and Gustave passes on custody of Rainbow’s health to the poor souls taking his place for the graveyard shift. He’s definitely not going to answer any calls now. Critical emergencies will have to wait too because getting untangled and yanking on boxers or pants won’t hide an erection. That would be the worst case scenario: Doc rushing to the medical wing with a bouncing hard on re-trapped within one or two layers of clothing trying to concentrate on saving a life when he knows everyone can see the obvious bulge will be a night he’ll never live down.

     It makes him shudder just thinking about it or is that Gilles behind him unintentionally breathing against his neck? They’re on his bed, naked save for their underwear, with a glass of red wine in their hands. The cheap takeout has been consumed a while ago and did a fair job at filling their bellies. Gustave has made himself comfortable, basking in the feeling of skin on skin contact and the gentle rise and fall of his lover’s chest. If their evening remained this way, he wouldn’t be all that upset. He is content listening to what happened during the mission through his love’s point of view. It went off without a hitch, Rainbow had caught the White Mask’s with their pants down.

     Speaking of that, Gustave decides he’s going to wiggle a bit and pretend he’s adjusting so his back won’t hurt and the weight distribution doesn’t make any limbs go numb. He gets a heavy sigh in return, a kiss to his neck, and that makes his cheeks flush a light pink hue. “I was so lonely while you were gone.” He mock pouts, tilting his head up to watch Montagne chuckle. Tending to all of the base’s boo boos and ouchies doesn’t count for having company and he knows that.

     “Were you now? I’m sorry to hear that.” It’s sincere, yes, but the underlying mischief in Gilles’ voice doesn’t go unnoticed. His wine glass has been set down and Gustave’s  is taken so that it too won’t get in the way. The hitch in the medic’s breath tells him all he needs to know the moment fingers dip beneath the thin layer of cloth that dares to say it’s held some kind of modesty. “Let me make up for it, oui?” He doesn’t even need to hear an actual verbal confirmation with how eager the younger man is by getting up and demanding for them to switch positions.

      It isn’t always this quick. Most nights they take their time, indulge in tantalizing touches, teasing one another for what felt like hours, making it all last as long as they can. Tonight won’t be that tame, Gilles won’t deny either of them what they’ve both wanted and could not have. Months, it’s been literal months since the were able to make love and not settle for a quick blow job or hasty wanking in Doc’s private office. They better use what time they have before it’s gone, claimed by a persistent curse neither know how to dispel.

     Montagne is on his feet and pulling his lover flush against his body, kissing him deeply each time he feels his lover’s lips part for more. Oxygen becomes a luxury for a short while, something they need but cannot have without separation. It’s not fair, really, but breathing is obviously necessary and the show must go on. He hopes Twitch has decided to take up space in the workshop next to the usual one or two operators that sometimes call it home. Rook slept like a rock and nothing short of a smoke alarm or gun fire will wake him up.

     A quick squeeze to Gustave’s ass makes him frown in disappointment when nothing else follows it up. It doesn’t last long, however, once he realizes it’s a silent demand for him to lie down on the bed while Gilles finds a bottle of lube in one of the dresser drawers. So he does as he’s asked, lounging not-so-patiently with a fist curled around his cock, pumping it slowly simply for the stimulation it provides. He really wasn’t kidding when he said he was lonely. If absence makes the heart grow fonder, it makes the dick get hungrier. Bandit said that and Gustave laughed so hard he started to wheeze.

     The pad of Gilles’ thumb pressed against his lover’s puckered hole as he descended upon him. Careful ministrations intended to loosen it up so that a finger can breach the taut muscle. A curious thought crosses the mountain’s mind when it gives more readily than it should, accepting the initial digit without much protest. He’s beginning to think his lover’s impatience must have escalated while being left alone for so long. “You spoke with Dominic didn’t you?” He chuckled, receiving an honest nod that quickly turned into a spine arching moan as a second finger was pushed in.

     “I’ll have to thank him later.” That could mean a number of things considering how close they’ve let the German get into their relationship. Marius didn’t seem to mind seeing as how there have been no objections yet. The pilot was well aware that his partner has been giving the two Frenchmen advice but that’s the fullest extent of their interactions. Now’s not the time to get lost in thought though, Gustave’s legs are being hiked up and over the larger man’s shoulders. While he’s not all that flexible, it isn’t uncomfortable yet. They’ll start to ache halfway through and burn the next day, a cost he’s willing to pay in full.

     “Come on, mon amour. Haven’t I waited long enough?” Doc whined, pouting when an eyebrow was raised in response. How needy, but who’s he to deny such a wonderful man what he wants? A pillow is tugged over and shoved beneath Gustave’s lower back to give it cushion and raise his hips more. It’s the little things like this Gus loves, how conscious of his lover’s comfort Gilles is. Again there isn’t nearly enough preparation ( and that worries Montagne ) but Gustave insists on progressing right this instant.

     “This may hurt a little...” The older man warns, receiving no indication that his partner cares. He’s a doctor, he understands, and frankly has had enough of the delay. Gilles slicks up his cock with a healthy amount of lube, guiding it to where it needs to go before pushing in slowly. A bitten hiss is forced through Doc’s teeth, his primary focus now shifting to relax himself around the steadily growing girth burying itself deep within him. It’s a mixture of pain, an uncomfortable stretch, and rising pleasure at feeling the familiar warmth.

     At hilt deep, he’s given time to adjust that Montagne will not allow to be skipped. They aren’t as young as they wish they were, too much carelessness will ruin the experience. And so they wait, exploratory hands detailed the muscles of Gustave’s chest and stroking his sides while he gets lost in the gentle touches. Gilles knows exactly how to make his treasured love feel like a king, whether he’s nestled atop his lap or pinned beneath him. On queue, which this time is a squeeze to the taller man’s thigh, Touré slides back.

     His first series of thrusts are slow and careful, drawing out a pleased hum from Gustave’s throat. They have a well practiced rhythm, it starts at a crawl and picks up to a steady beat both can last their longest on. By no means is it ride or die, in fact, someone like Bandit might find it boring. The position Doc is in allows Gilles to drive in deep at the expense of a now growing ache in his legs. They bounce atop the taller man’s shoulders, his cock left unattended on his stomach. He won’t touch it, not yet, it’s too soon.

     Adjusting his angle draws out a moan from the doctor, one somewhat louder than he intended it to be. Using a little more force produces the same results and Gilles knows he’s found just the right spot to drive Gustave wild. The sound of skin hitting skin, husky breaths, and Doc’s voice is a filthy symphony in an otherwise quiet part of the base all the while he’s being encouraged to let go and praised for how good he feels, looks, and sounds.

     “Pleasure yourself, mon Ange, let me hear your enjoyment.” Gilles says so sweetly, letting go of his lover’s hip to guide a hand to the neglected shaft spilling precum on glistening sweat soaked skin. Fingers curl around it and pump in time with the heavy thrusts pounding his consciousness into oblivion. “There you go, that’s it.” Now Gustave’s mouth is hanging open, eyes glossed over and fixated on the older man’s beautiful hues.

     The burn in his knees is only getting worse but Doc doesn’t feel it anymore. Warmth is pooling in his gut and he can’t string together coherent sentences, repeating Montagne’s name instead along with a few expletives coming out in mixed French-English jumbles. He’s always been the noisier of the two no matter how hard he tried to keep it down. At some point he loses that restraint and drowns out the growls and grunts from his faithful shield. It’s when he becomes silent that Gilles knows he’s reaching his climax.

     With teeth gritted and red flushing his cheeks, Touré chases his own orgasm in the form of less coordinated and more forceful thrusts that have Gustave’s eyes rolling into the back of his head. He hears his name shouted into the heavens and can feel the contractions of Doc’s body as he cums, painting his chest with each spurt. Riding upon that high, Gilles keeps going until he buries himself deep, presses their chests together, and groans into his lover’s ear.

     Having nothing to hold them up, Doc’s legs drop as far as the broad body in between them will allow. They both need a minute to relearn how to breathe correctly and see straight. “God I needed that..” Gustave pants, earning a breathless chuckle from his partner who has raised himself back up on shaking arms. He pulls out with the same care as he had initially going in, giving them both a good look at the mess that had been made.

     Rather than attempt standing, Montagne rolls over onto his back and smiles when he feels Doc turn to snuggle against his side. They’ll worry about showering and changing the bed sheets tomorrow. Neither of them have the strength to bother this time.

     “Je t’aime, mon Ange.” Gilles hums. “Je t’aime aussi, mon Trésor.” Gustave yawns, placing a kiss on his lover’s cheek.

[fuzed-hostage]

RainbowSix l Siege

This is a quick one-shot where Doc is breaking down and Bandit is there to comfort him. The prompt was “Trying not to cry” from their amazing characterization of Dominic to my Gustave.

Rating: G [ Trauma warning, PTSD, Hurt & Comfort ] Pairing: Bandit/Doc

Every death, whether he could have made a difference or not, weighs upon Kateb’s shoulders. It feels like he’s carrying the Earth and all of the trapped souls on his back and in his heart. The never ending torrent that are their screams, last words, and pleas for him to make the impossible possible assault his mind whenever he tries to sleep. It’s like reliving them again, sometimes their faces interchange with those of the living or people he doesn’t even know. Chronic insomnia has become his best friend fueled by caffeine, chasing a second wind with reckless abandon no matter how far out of reach it may be.

That’s the price to pay, he supposed, for wearing his heart upon his sleeve. He can’t help it. He’s one of the few truly altruistic people still out there in a world so full of hate and deceit. His empathy gets bombarded day in and day out. Only recently has he started letting slip the nightmares from within and it’s to a rather unlikely person considering one might think he’d rather talk to his fellow GIGN operators.

But no, Doc doesn’t want to make Giles worry or to upset Rook. The youngest of his unit looks up to him, he can’t disappoint that trust. Twitch also need not share in his silent misery. She’s made friends with the other women, is having the time of her life. It isn’t fair.

So here they are, Dominic and Gustave, on the roof of Hereford base; one wearing casual clothes and the other still dressed in faded blue scrubs. Pouring his heart out to Bandit didn’t necessarily relieve any of the pressure but the German’s kind words and well placed sarcasm does earn himself a laugh or two. Tonight is different in that Doc had lost not one, but two people on the surgical table earlier that day. Both had grievous wounds with a very slim chance of living, yet he ran himself ragged trying to save them anyway. Ultimately he failed after sixteen hours of refusing to give up or swap out with someone who had more energy.

When the day crew retired and the night shift fully took over, Doc hadn’t left or cleaned himself up yet. He’s not sure who called Bandit in, doesn’t really care, but he’s thankful for that. Staring at a blood soaked room while others clean up around you isn’t good for the soul. After he changed, the pair disappeared from prying eyes for what was left of the sunset.

Up here, no one could hear them or notice the tears Gustave fought his damndest to stop. They couldn’t see the arm that wrapped itself around the doctor’s shoulder and pulled him in, nor how the older man’s head tucked itself beneath Dominic’s chin. Now wasn’t the time for jokes, no smiles, and no sarcasm. All the German could do was hold the broken man close so that he didn’t feel alone while fighting an invisible war.

Cheek and chin meet dark brown hair, Bandit’s grip tightens, and Doc lets it all out in one fell swoop. Gross sobbing, harsh coughing, and snot cascade from the shaking body Brunsmeier wouldn’t let go of even if there was a gun pointed to his head. It’s going to be a long night and a rough morning. He’s asked the auxiliary surgeon to take Gustave’s place, made arrangements for all calls and emergencies to be routed outside of his companion’s bubble with a single text message earlier.

  It’s the least he can do and he knows Doc will appreciate it even if he does get a little bit of scolding afterwards. They’re both troubled by ghosts, haunted by phantoms, but they have each other when telling others would be far worse of a crime than keeping them in. That’s what Gustave loves about Dom, his brutal honesty and lack of imposed judgement, how he willingly accepts that people have faults. Hell, he even tries to force Doc to care for himself more when he knows that’s an uphill battle.

Guardians of the Deepness, keepers of the Abyss. Everyone has their own demons. Dominic and Gustave chose to fight them together if and when they can. When Doc can finally start recomposing himself, two cigarettes are lit and one offered up. It’s taken and placed in between trembling lips while an opposite sleeve is used as a tissue. Thanks is whispered out from Gus’ raw throat and “Don’t mention it.” follows. Maybe they’ll share a bed tonight, hold each other dearly, and forget about everything going on around them.

    Yeah… that sounds like a wonderful idea.

[fuzed-hostage]

Me when I’m trying to write the smut part of an M/M fanfic:

how many times can I say the word penis creatively before sounding dumb?

gasping. how much of it can you do before you need to call 911?

seriously… they’re gasping a lot. do you need an inhaler?

sweet spot, prostate, who the fuck knows!

moaning is great but is there such a thing as writing it to often?

fingers up the bum bum, how many can we do before they Lose It™

should his pp be hard now?

okay how old is this guy and is it realistic for him to go another round?

y his pp hard? leT’S FIND OUT

the ever so rare introduction of the Condom™

double dong this time or will that split his… let’s not think about that

pain? nah, he took ibuprofen prior and probably after

they should shower but like wow i’ve already hit 7k words

the most detailed part of this story is the sex :l

NOW KEES

[fuzed-hostage]

<- to be continued /\ \/ /\

[fuzed-hostage]

YEET

[fuzed-hostage]

RainbowSix l Siege

Jäger gets blown the fuck up and lives to recount the incident while he’s lying in bed unconscious.

Rated: G [Mild swearing, it’s actually kinda funny, implied Blitz/Jäger]

Set to the tone of: Ave Maria Inspired by: Two unfortunate bad luck and why me moments in T-Hunt

How did it all come to this? Getting blown up, I mean. Our entry into the building was textbook. The hostage was secure, reinforcements had gone up, and I was quite satisfied with our work. The first couple of gun shots were from Bandit looking down at the dock so I joined him in taking out a few hostiles before they had the chance to set up proper repel lines. That’s when I noticed an unprotected wall next to Rook who had taken my fellow GSG 9′s place. Of course I couldn’t just leave it like that. No, that simply would not do.

I set the heavy metal case as close as I could get it, told Rook to move, and the next thing I knew, I was sailing through the air tone deaf. Time seemed to stop in that moment when the chemical reaction obliterated the wood we’d been standing in front of. Not really sure where the Frenchman went but, when I think about it now, it’s highly unlikely I could have seen him before the force of the blast tossed me like a rag doll.

They told me later that I had more shrapnel in me than Doc has ever seen. I believe them. I want to say each puncture felt like sharp needles raining down on my skin, though I’m not entirely sure. Everything went numb within the blink of an eye go figure. Left behind was a mess of twisted metal, shattered wood paneling, and a really big fucking hole, as Thermite would say.

Back to relearning how to fly, I’d still like to address that. I’ve got both a commercial and private helicopter pilot’s license. There are many more certifications tacked onto those as well. I even went to the trouble of tripling that with a single engine airplane license in the event it might be useful someday. Calculating all of the flight time needed on top of what I’ve acquired since then would bore you to death.

My point is, none of it applies here.

Someone once told me that if “Humans were meant to fly, God would have given them wings”. I disagree with that to a certain degree. Our brains have developed enough to construct the means to achieve flight without evolution’s gifts. As far as biology is concerned, I had no right trying to replicate that with my body. Our bones are too heavy, we carry a lot of fluid, and, on top of that, I had a lot of gear on. Not nearly as much as the GIGN guys, good Lord you can hear them jingle, thud, and thunk from a mile away. Kapkan... not so much. He can be as quiet as the dead when he really wants to be.

Keep the image of me midair, halfway through a back flip, in your mind for a little longer.

We’re set up in the map room and I’m by a couple of windows with a likely very startled, and now injured, Rook. Prior to this unfortunate event, Mira had entered what looked like a break room with a small kitchen. I think it was a kitchen. From there, she disappears from memory along with wherever Bandit ran off to. We had a box of ammunition set down next to the hostage who was seated in front of the main entrance ( a stupid place, I know. I didn’t put him there ) and several desks.

Where I was going was directly backwards towards one of the dividing walls that created a wide entryway into the middle of the room ( where the hostage is ). The place hasn’t been torn apart yet until now. There’s no telling how much of that expensive equipment was destroyed they had hooked up in that cramped space. The map hanging up I was in the process of destroying has been disintegrated. My sorry ass was only the beginning of the once neat and tidy room’s messy demise. Who has to clean all of that up once the mission is over?

Whoever it is, they better not be squeamish.

I apparently was knocked unconscious the moment my head hit the ground. Maybe I lost it prior to that, somewhere in between failing to pull off an impressive stunt and eating shit. Considering I broke a lot of bones and had some internal bleeding, it’s probably good that my daylights had been sufficiently knocked out and stayed that way.

Makes me feel bad that the team was now down a man or two. Someone had done the best they could in keeping me alive before returning to the firefight. No one has told me who yet. Probably won’t.

While I’m kicking myself in the pants for a wild card touch with death, Blitz is cursing himself for not having insisted he go with us. We already had a team of five and he isn’t classified as a defending agent. Try telling him that while he’s got that fancy shield of his. You’ll go blind and have to listen to his shouting. I bet it’s worse if you don’t understand German. I’ll probably get some kind of long-drawn out conversation once I’m alert enough to know what’s left and what’s right.

Blitz is sweet though, I won’t mind. He’s been by my side since they hauled me out of my own helicopter strapped to a stretcher. Doc almost had him restrained because he kept getting in the way. I’ve seen the medic mad a few times, it’s definitely not a good idea to be on the receiving end of his sharply spoken lectures. He knows how to make you shrink back into your shell with a specific look alone. The one like your mother or father would make when you were a kid that said everything you needed to know about how much you’d fucked up.

I still can’t get over how ungracefully I was launched off my feet. My shoes were brand new and made for walking ( running as well ), not an extended and uncontrolled mission into space. At least my ADS wasn’t to blame. The wall had been breached with a flat charge, not blown up by a grenade. Even then, it can’t destroy something that’s on the other side of a closed space that isn’t being tossed in. How many of them had been recovered anyway? Rook is always studious in gathering gadgets if their owners can’t. Unless he was the one carrying me. No, strike that, it likely would have been Kapkan. Rook was also hurt.

There’s going to be a lot to take in when I wake up. Thank you to my team and the medical staff taking care of me right now. I can’t object to not being allowed out of bed early, yet. Eh, I won’t trouble Doc too much this time. Something tells me I’m not going to be able to even if I wanted. Being critically injured kills your drive to be an annoying patient. A bit of down time will not drive me nuts if I can at least have my tablet as entertainment.

Oh, and friends! Friends are nice too.

[fuzed-hostage]

So this happened AGAIN

[fuzed-hostage]

You either die a Hero,       Or you live long enough to see yourself become the Villain.

[fuzed-hostage]

Wrong place, wrong time, motherfucker

[fuzed-hostage]

I’m going to write more MontyDoc. Mmm yes!

[fuzed-hostage]

RainbowSix l Siege

The Bonnie Banks o’ Loch Lomond, one of Sledge’s favorites to sing, becomes an unexpected duet when Jäger surprises him by joining in.

Rating: G [ Fluff, Comfort, Heartwarming ] Inspiration: Loch Lomond & Two-Part Fic by @kiruuuuu

     The sun was slowly sinking beneath the horizon at Hereford base when Sledge stepped outside into the crisp cool air. Something had been troubling him all day and what better to shake off that feeling than by singing one of his favorite folk songs. He begins with a deep hum to clear his mind and his throat, easing the tension from his shoulders with a gentle shrug. All he can hear is the faint sound of leaves rustling upon a soft breeze and a pair of birds in a tree nearby.

“ By yon bonnie banks and by yon bonnie braes, Where the sun shines bright on Loch Lomond. Where we two have passed so many blithesome days, On the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomond. ”

     He starts off quiet, testing his voice to avoid any drops in tone or cracks that tell him his throat is too dry. Feeling no ache, nor hearing any queues to stop, a smile shapes his lips and he can feel the weight upon soul shedding little by little. What he doesn’t know is that someone is approaching from behind, dressed in a flight suit that lacked the gear it had carried during a long day’s worth of training.

“ O ye'll take the high road and I'll take the low road And I'll be in Scotland afore ye. But me and my true love will never meet again, On the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomond. ”

     Seamus is more confident now, letting himself flow into the song as if he could become one with its beauty. His audience is listening quietly, marveling at their partner’s beautiful voice and how peaceful his visage was steadily becoming. A spell had been cast and nothing else mattered outside of this treasured glimpse of a side of Sledge he’s never seen.

“ I mind where we parted on yon shady glen, On the steep, steep side o' Ben Lomond. Where in purple hue, the Heiland hills we view And the moon shinin' out from the gloamin'. ”

     A brief pause gives the on looker the chance he’s been waiting for.He confidently strides up to his lover’s side with a warm smile, lips parting to claim the chorus as his own. His accent is may be thick, but Marius is confident and he’s been secretly practicing ever since Saemus played the song for him on his phone.

“ O ye'll take the high road and I'll take the low road And I'll be in Scotland afore ye. But me and my true love will never meet again, On the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomond. “

     The Scott is taken off guard, turning to face his love with a shocked look that morphs into a beaming smile. The take each others’ hands, lacing fingers together, and stand there for a moment in silence. Even though the song tells a tragic tale, knowing that Marius understood how much it meant to him is heartwarming. The rest of the song is sung in unison, their voices passionate and echoing into the surrounding nature that sprawls out for miles.

“ The wee bird may sing and the wild flowers spring, And in sunshine the waters are sleeping: The broken heart will ken nae second spring again And the world does not know how we're grievin'. “

     Unbeknownst to the pair of lovers, a third listener has taken notice from atop his perch. Rifle in hand, Glaz sits up from his leafy cover and peers down at Marius and Saemus, tilting his head slightly. A soft amused chuckle is muffled by cloth and carries no further then the branch he sits upon. After the final verse, a kiss is shared and Timur turns his attention away. He’ll keep this memory and, perhaps, paint it once he retires for the night.

“ O ye'll take the high road and I'll take the low road And I'll be in Scotland afore ye. But me and my true love will never meet again, On the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomond. “