#“it was a dirty hit” “he aimed straight through his head” “if it was regular season it wouldve been a suspension”

[ratatatastic]

"Listen, I love seeing you get into it after the whistle, too, man. Because you'll throw down—Like, you and [Steven] Stamkos went at it... you been going at it with a lot of different guys, but Evan Bouchard—" "I'm not tough! I'm not tough! No! I felt bad about that, man..." "I gotta ask about the chokehold, though! With Evan and he's like tapping out! Is he making any noises? Do you even know that he's in a compromised position? That maybe he can't breathe or whatever? What was going through your mind when this happened? And what was your reaction when you saw it afterwards?" "Yeah, I mean, listen some guys like to keep up the persona... I'm not the toughest guy in the league, I'll never claim to be that. I don't fight often. I haven't—I don't think I did last year at all, but I do believe in protecting yourself. You know, I saw Barkov get hit, and it was pretty dirty hit in my mind—in the moment, right?...before and after replay, and stuff like that. You understand the league made the right call, and what not... But, I see him, he's vulnerable, he's one of their better players, one of our better players on the ice, that was all it was, right? Just grab him and do something. You know, I felt bad about it, I apologised to him in the handshake line on the way out, right? It's all part of the game."

"What did he say? 'No problem'?" "'Go fuck yourself!'" "No, he said, 'All good, no issue.' I'm sure I'll get hit from behind next year or something so..." "'See, I got 45 points in playoffs...'" "Hey, but I'm with ya! I said it at the time! The Draisaitl hit on Barkov—Like, he knew what he was doing, he went straight through his head...I don't know..." "It's—No doubt, no doubt." "...In regular season he's probably getting suspended. You know, if that's the regular season..." "Yeah, and you know what? It all ended well, and Barkov was fine so... the league made the right call obviously, right?" "Yeah..." "Whatever...but when Max Domi—years ago...and he's kind-of like pressuring you, pressuring you, and you're like, 'What?' And you didn't get your guard up and he catches you with one...he catches you right in the jaw, you ate one! Were you thinking afterwards like, 'Man, I know I'm drawing a penalty here, but I gotta protect myself so I don't eat a fucking punch again like this, and set myself back with concussions'?" "Yeah, that obviously taught me a lot about protecting myself, for sure. For sure. You'd rather be the first one in there than the last one so...Yeah, it's not about dropping the gloves or anything, but getting your guard up and—definitely being the first guy to separate yourself, I think, is important. Yeah, I mean, that's all I'm gonna say about that."

The Cam & Strick Podcast | 7.30.24 (x)

hey diddle diddle the cat with the fiddle...

"im not tough im not tough noooooo i felt bad about that man 😣😣🫣" dear god our players are acting like theyre not war criminals...ekky notoriously not a fighter hes just here for a fun time its not his fault he manages to get involved in every single scrum and starts ragdolling bodies guys

[scorchedhearth]

"Don't touch me"

and jaykyle

<3

this may or may not be inspired by your arts of them fighting. <3.

get your own drabble

They both see it coming, and they both carry on because at this point it’s no longer isolated incidents that they stumble upon but rather regular occurrences they both seek out, both encourage despite refusing to put words on it. That would mean giving it sense and Jason doesn’t want to examine this particular habit too closely.

So they keep the hostile looks, the shoves and petty insults barely disguised as they fight in the streets of New York, dodging blasts and guns alike. They still carry this on until the last enemy falls, ring and guns quiet. Jason is the one to break the tension this time, who acts on it first.

They’re trying to get away from the scene quickly, Kyle out of his power suit to save the last of his ring’s energy and Jason hurrying before him in his helmet when Kyle grabs his arm and jerks him back. He’s about to turn around with a fist when he catches sight of a lump of building falling straight on them. Before he can do anything, a green shield appears above them, just in time to let the rumbles slide away instead of crushing them. There’s a beat of stillness before Jason throws a look behind him, looking at Kyle whose ring glows with the construct he just made.

“A thank you wouldn’t harm you, you know.” Kyle grits out and Jason shoves his hand off his arm.

“Don’t touch me.” He warns, tone icy and cutting. His skin feels hot where he was just touched, imprint like a branding through his jacket.

“Or what?” Kyle sticks his chin out, crossing his arms. “You’re gonna cry about it?”

“You’re not gonna like what I'll do.” Another beat before Kyle huffs a laugh, haughty and mocking and Jason’s had enough, can’t take it anymore. He lurches forward as Kyle’s looking away, catches him right at his jaw with a fist, sends his head back.

“Fuck.” He spits out and glares at Jason. A hand comes up to his face, fingers probing at the spot he just hit. “I save your life and that’s what I get?” He straightens up and clenches his fists, Jason carefully tracks the movement as he wills his suit on, green and black enveloping him.

“Shut up.” Jason lunges at him again. Kyle can’t dodge it, instead, he gets a shoulder on his chest and stumbles back. Jason’s about to strike again when an elbow catches him in his ribs and knocks the air out of his lungs. A knee to his chest pushes him off and Kyle gets a punch of his own, powered by a green construct that throws his head on the wall nearby. He feels the helmet crack under the blow and the comms fizzle out.

With a curse he rips it off before it can die out and leave him blind, throws it away and faces Kyle again, squaring his shoulders as he feels blood gushing from his forehead, not sure if it’s from the blow or the previous fight. Doesn't care either way.

“Bastard.” He grunts and Kyle’s looking too proud to his liking. He needs to change that right now.

It’s fast, a fast and dirty fight just like Jason likes it. He charges at Kyle and without warning strike at his face, this time aiming at the ear with his knuckles, payback for his helmet he tells himself. They grapple at each other until Jason can get close enough to headbutt him right in the nose. The noise of cartilage breaking down under his skull is a beautiful one, almost as beautiful as the sight of blood gushing down his face. Brings out the green of his eyes.

Kyle snarls and Jason can’t help himself, he grins. “Always knew red suits you better than green.” He drawls. He doesn’t try to dodge the next punch, instead he rolls with it and twists his body, gets his feet between his legs and kicks his knee, hard. He follows him as he falls on one knee, uses his legs and yet another well-aimed punch to bring him down on his back, falling right over him and grabbing his wrists, pinning them on the asphalt and shoving down.

He would feel bad if Kyle wasn’t purposefully avoiding using his ring. It glows on his hand but never once sparks to life and Jason let this thought stroke his ego.

“Still want me to say thank you?” He taunts, inches from his face and smirking at him. Jason leaves it up to him this time, he’s feeling generous today. But he already knows how this is going to go, he can see it in his eyes.

“Not what I want from you.” Kyle bites back and lurches upward, slot his lips on his with as much violence as passion. Jason let his teeth bite into the kiss, pulls a moan out of him and doesn’t fight back when Kyle frees his wrists from his grasp to grab at his head and twist it where he wants it.

He tastes blood on his tongue, and the bitter taste of metal in the air, leftover from the battle. Tastes sweat and above all urgency. Kyle thrusts up with his hips and Jason follows the motion, let Kyle roll them until he’s the one on top and breaking the kiss to look down at him with a wild gaze, a sight he’s come to appreciate these past months. And maybe Jason shouldn’t find the blood smeared on his chin so hot, but a part of him likes that he’s the one who put it there, that he left his mark on his pretty face.

“Asshole.” Kyle grits out, and he pushes another hard kiss on his lips, this time more demanding. Jason let his hands wander down his waist, pleased with right where he is.

[venusiangguk]

gold rush pt. 3 | jjk (m)

>>pairing: jungkook x reader

>>genre: pwp, v little plot, smut, kinda fluffy, college au (kinda), established relationship

>>word count: 9.9k um?

>>warnings: pegging!!!, butt stuff!!!, sexy anal!!!, sub jk, soft dom oc, crying why do i always make everyone cry, fingering (m), strap on, dildos, vibrators, sex toys, sex shop adventures, explicit sex, like so explicit this bitch is basically 10k, mutual masturbation, coming untouched, kisses, aftercare in the form of snacks, titty squeezing, dirty talk, excessive use of pet names, yoongi exists

>>notes: i wasn’t gonna write this bc ur girl does not know the first thing about pegging, but jk sucking the strap came to me in a dream and i had to do it. it was highly requested so i hope u like it! i wrote and poorly edited this whole thing today so im sorry for any mistakes !! 

>>summary: jk wants the strap, and jk gets what he wants !!

pt.1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

The sun is shining, and there’s just the perfect amount of breeze to cool Jeongguk as sweat runs down his temple. The soccer pitch just got cut, making the ball much easier to control, and therefore much easier to aim at Jimin’s ass. It’s cool-down time, so the team is in groups of three, idly kicking the ball between each other, for the last few minutes of practice. All in all, a great day to talk about getting pegged with his best friends.

Jeongguk glances around the field, making sure the other groups are far enough away from him and his friends before clearing his throat. “So… do you guys like… get pegged?”

When Taehyung passes the ball to Jimin, Jimin completely misses it due to the fact that he is looking at Jeongguk like he is the most pitiful human on the planet. Jeongguk adjusts his shin guard to avoid the scrutiny.

“Gguk… honey… are you dumb?”

Taehyung’s jogging back after retrieving the ball that ran astray. “No, Mini. He’s straight.” He kicks the ball to Jeongguk. “If by ‘pegged’ you mean fucked in the ass by a real dick, then yeah. We do.”

Jeongguk receives the ball with a ‘rainbow’ and juggles it from his thigh to his laces, balancing the ball for a second before kicking it to Jimin. He nods, contemplative. “Nice.”

“Okay ace.” He passes to Taehyung, before throwing Jeongguk a teasing look. “You thinking about taking it up the ass, Gukkie?”

“Perhaps I’m contemplating.” He sniffs nose in the air.

Taehyung laughs. “Got your button milked once and now you wanna take a phallic shaped object? Proud of you.” He places his hand over his heart, like the mere thought of Jeongguk getting railed makes his heart warm.

A whistle blows, and Jeongguk kicks the ball up to his arm, tucking it into the curve of his trim waist. “Why does everyone call it a button? And it hasn’t only been once.” He sounds exasperated and so so tired.

His friends jog to bump shoulders with him as they make their way to the locker rooms. “Hey, jokes aside, I think it’s cool you’re like comfortable enough, or whatever, with __ to explore the things you like.” Taehyung says.

Jeongguk rolls his eyes. “Okay Dad.”

“No seriously!” Jimin insists, holding the locker room door open for them. Fuck the rest of the team. “She seems good for you. Babys you like you need.” Jimin laughs.

Jeongguk’s shirt gets caught on his head as he squawks. “I don’t just like being babied, fuck you.”

“Okay so she also entertains your sadistic side. She’s the full package.”

Jeongguk looks down with a blush. He shrugs his shoulders lightly before bending over to get out of his gear. “She’s pretty cool I guess.”

Taehyung knees him while he’s still bent over making him stumble a bit. “Awe, Jeonggukkie is in love.”

“Shut up.” Jeongguk smacks him in the face with his smelly sock.

“When you gonna do it?” Jimin asks, buttoning his new pants. 

Apparently they aren’t showering today. Jeongguk will just have to stop at his dorm before heading to yours to help you study. That reminds him that you have a test on Friday, but are free this weekend. He just so happens to be free as well. The team they were supposed to play had to forfeit because their coach got caught sleeping with one of the cheerleaders. Sucks, but good for Jeongguk and his little asshole.

“Maybe this weekend.” With their backpacks on, they start the trek back to the dorms. It’s nearing night now, the sun just starting to set in the sky. Jeongguk pulls out his phone to tell you he’s stopping by his place before heading to you. You reply quickly.

baby🥺💘😏🧠🙄👊🏻:

okie

wanna have sex instead of helping me study 

me:

yeah but im not gonna 

just think about how good the sex will be when u get an a 

baby🥺💘😏🧠🙄👊🏻:

🙄

When Jeongguk pockets his phone, Taehyung speaks up.

“You think she’ll be down?”

Jeongguk doesn’t hesitate. “Yeah, probably.”

Ever since the first time you made him cum untouched, butt stuff has been a moderately regular occurrence for you both as a long-term, healthy, pro-ass eating couple. Honestly it was mostly him getting his butt played with, but he supposed it made sense. Like Jimin explained to his once naïve self, it was just biological- or something. Whatever. He wonders if three fingers will be enough to fit a fake dick in his ass. He asks his friends.

“Eh…” Jimin starts, looking up like he’s thinking. “Maybe, but you might wanna try to get to four, maybe five if you're using hers, since she’s tiny.”

Jeongguk’s mouth falls open and he pales. Taehyung notices and laughs.

“Don’t get scared. It’s just better to over-prep than under-prep. And like obviously you work up to it, she’s not just gonna shove her fist or her cock up your ass.”

Her cock. A little tingle settles in Jeongguk’s lower belly at the statement. He’s been thinking about this for a while, looking at porn in his free time. Seeing the way the guys moan on their girls’ strap always gets him hard. Seeing how hard their cocks get when the toy hits them just right. He throbs when he sees the guys cum just from the strap, no hands. Maybe he should fuck you when he gets to your dorm instead of helping you study. His cock is feeling a little plump.

“Alright well… Bye, thanks for being gay and answering my anal questions!”

As he’s pressing the button to his elevator, they lived on opposite sides of the athlete dorm and there were different elevators for each of the wings, Jimin chirps, “Don’t forget to empty your asshole really well, and don’t eat the day of! Also buy extra lube and put a spare blanket down!”

Jeongguk winces. Valuable information indeed, information he mentally pockets, but did he need to yell it in the dorm common room?

“Noted!” He yells back at the elevator dings and opens up. Jeongguk pretends like he doesn’t meet the curious, kind of confused gaze of one of his teammates. He must have walked in while Jimin was yelling and only caught the end of the conversation while waiting for the same elevator. Jeongguk gets in and immediately closes the doors. He can catch the next lift.

~~~

Jeongguk’s got his head in your lap and you’re running your fingers through his long, silky hair. He showered today, so waves of his aromatherapy lavender shampoo are wafting up to you. Sweet boy. He seems sidetracked, occasionally sighing and subtly twisting, but is still more or less purring on your thigh, feet tucked up onto the cushion of the couch. Netflix is on the small tv that was left by the last person who lived there, you’re mac book connected via HDMI. You’re not really paying attention. Mind kind of tired from all the studying you had done this week. Jeongguk fidgets a tiny bit again, wiggling like he’s trying to get comfortable. He huffs a sigh.

“Hey,” You say softly, getting his attention.

His body curves at the waist, causing his t-shirt to bunch up and show off the dip of his hip bone. He looks up at you with wide eyes. He seems surprisingly awake. Must have some busy little bees buzzing around his mind. He makes a little questioning noise.

“You okay? You’re kinda fussy.” You murmur.

He groans. “I-  am just thinking.”

“About?” You drag the word out in a singsong-y manner.

The way Jeongguk’s face flushes is so pretty, you have to stop yourself from cooing. 

He moves himself from your lap and sits facing you. He looks like he's thinking about what to say, or how to say what he’s thinking so hard about. 

Eloquently he states, “I’m horny.”

You glance at his cock. Not quite hard, but a little happy and excited. You chuckle, leaning towards him, giving him a playfully sexy look. “Okay, let’s fuck baby.”

Jeongguk blushes even more, cheeks tinted red, while he leans away from you.

You pout. “What?”

Again he pauses, a small pout on his lips. He seems to be in a soft, needy, difficult mood. You’re probably going to have to pry what he wants to say out of his mouth.

With another uncalled for exasperated huff, Jeongguk rolls his eyes and moves closer to you before catching you by surprise and swinging a leg over your lap. He’s facing you while he straddles your thighs. His arms are looped around your neck, he’s playing with a little bit of your hair, twirling the long length around his fingers. You smile up at him, gently. Your palms squeeze at his narrow hips encouragingly.

“I want to try something new…” He says. He sounds nervous and looks at you the same.

“Mhmm.” You say, fighting a smile. 

“Really bad. Like I want it really bad.” His hips roll, probably unconsciously from the way he closes his eyes to ground himself. 

You peek at his lap, and his cock is bulging, the fabric of his sweatpants doing nothing to help hide it. You bring your hand to it, and massage him through his pants.

He whines and pushes against your palm before a hand comes down and grabs your wrist, stopping the movement. “Quit it, I’m trying to talk.” He’s so petulant and whiny.

You move your hand away and place it back on his hip, giggling a little. “Well spit it out, then.”

He scowls. You reach up and smooth the wrinkle in his brow before trailing it down and cupping his cheek. He softens immediately, melts like butter in your hands. His eyes close and he lets out a soft sigh, body relaxing a little.

He’s whispering, kinda giggling out of embarrassment, when he says, “I want you to fuck me.” He pauses, peeking at you through his lashes. “Like for real.”

Almost instantly a little spark ignites in your belly, and you feel your pussy get that telltale heartbeat. You didn’t want to push Jeongguk into anything, but you’ve been thinking about taking the ‘next step’ with your… ass-plorations for some time. But you figured he would get to the same point on his own, and would come to you when he was ready. Turns out you know him as well as you thought you did.

“Yeah?” You rub your free hand up his side. 

He nods quickly, eagerly. You pinch his cheek lightly, and he retaliates by trying to bite at it. To avoid the attack it finds his way back to his waist.

“When did you want to? Tonight?”

He wiggles impossibly closer to you. Kisses you quick before nodding again. “Yeah. I um. I already like prepped… mostly. I prepped what I could by myself.” He pauses with a cute thinking face. “You will probably have to help me a little. But yeah. I got ready for you just in case.” He nods.

You hum, glancing at the old clock on the wall, another gift from the prior tenant. 11:52 pm. 

“If we hurry, we can make it to a sex shop? They don’t usually close until 2 or 3 in the morning.” You suggest.

Jeongguk bites his lip, smiling excitedly. “Really? Can we?”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Yeah, duh.” You lean up and give him a speedy, but thorough kiss, smiling into it. “Been wanting to peg you for so long.” 

His face scrunches endearingly. “Don’t call it that.”

He hops off your lap, and goes to grab the keys, wasting no time. He stands by the door expectantly. His cock is, extremely obviously, sticking out. Someone didn’t wear his briefs today.

“Can you like… kill that?” You’re laughing as you tug on some sweats of your own, having only been lounging in your panties and one of his shirts. Your usual at home attire.

He looks down, and has a smug grin on his face when he looks at you again. “It’ll go down in the car. Hurry up!”

~~~

A dildo looks so much bigger when one is looking at it knowing that it will be inside of them within the next few hours. And there are so many options and colors. Some vibrate, some have fake pubic hair on them. Some have balls that are squishy and feel eerily… accurate.

Jeongguk isn’t having second thoughts, no. But he is having thoughts. Very overwhelming thoughts. 

You’re next to your boyfriend, glancing between him and the varying selection of fake cocks displayed in front of you both, trying to gauge his reaction. He looks a little pale, but tentatively excited. Curious at the very least.

“Which one do you want?” You ask.

“No idea.” He responds, eyes wide.

Like most store clerks, one shows up, almost like they have a built in ‘customer needs help and has no idea which dildo to get to peg her super hot boyfriend’ radar. 

“You guys need help?” He is a small man, with a monotone voice. He looks like he would rather be anywhere else at 12:30am on a Saturday night. 

“NO!” Jeongguk says quickly and loudly. Very loudly.

Both you and the store clerk flinch, looking at him shocked.

Jeongguk shifts on his feet. “No.” He says in a more socially acceptable tone. “No- I’m sorry. But we’re uh-” He grabs your arm and pulls you closer. “We’re good, thanks.”

The clerk looks between you and Jeongguk and the dildos. “Um… Alright.” He starts to walk away before he turns back around. “Well if you change your mind, I’m Yoongi and I’ll be at the counter. If your toy is electric I’ll test it in the back before you leave… We uh- provide batteries with your purchase if needed…” With one last glance, a very judgmental one in Jeongguk’s opinion, Yoongi takes his place at said counter. His eyes flicker to you guys every once in a while.

“Baby,” You grab Jeongguk’s face between your palms and make him look at you. You squeeze and his lips poke out making him look like a guppy. He blinks. “I know you’re nervous, but it’s going to be okay.”

He rolls his eyes, guppy face and all. “Well obviously. I just- We don’t need help.” He wiggles out of your grip, much like a… guppy.

You grin, trying not to laugh, and just be the supportive girlfriend you are. “Okay, did you decide which one you want?”

A side glance. “Not yet…”

You walk up and go to grab a pink sparkly one.

“Uh, not that one.”

You quirk an eyebrow and move your hand to a larger one.

“No.”

You play a little game of dildo hot or cold until you have a better idea of what Jeongguk wants. His preference seems to be skin tone, close to his own, with a more realistic feel. Normal balls though, not squishy. Also no faux hair. You thank him for that. If you actually had a penis it would surely be waxed. Bless Jeongguk for doing the same. As for size, he leaned more towards a very normal, moderate size. Maybe 5 or 6 inches at most, not too thick. Smaller than himself. One last option.

“Do you want it to vibrate?” You ask, holding one in your hand testing the numerous different settings.

He shakes his head, answering quick. “No.”

He pauses.

“Wait.” He thinks. “Maybe. Should we? You could use it too?” 

Sweet, kind, considerate angel. Always thinking about you and your pleasure. Couples who share the strap last the longest.

You shrug, pointing out, “I could use one that doesn’t vibrate too.”

He looks offended and sounds snotty. “Uh, you don’t need to.”

“Whatever. Why don’t we get both?”

You had a point. He pretends to ponder it, before nodding, already persuaded. “Okay.” 

“We need the harness now.”

You begin the harness hunt, walking through the store, coming across many a things, but for some reason you both keep missing them. They’re nowhere to be found. 

“Maybe they’re sold out?” He tries.

“Doubt it. Let’s go ask.” You grab him by his pinky and try to drag him to the counter. He resists. 

“Let’s not.”

“Koo.” You say giving him a look.

He whines, throwing his head back. Borderline throwing a fit. You hold your ground, smiling.

He’s easy to give in. Being a brat just on principle. “Fine but you’re talking.”

You stand on your tiptoes and kiss his cheek. “Of course, baby.” With his pinky in hand, you make your way to the counter.

The store clerk, Yoongi, if you remember correctly, is sitting behind the counter hunched over smiling at his phone. He doesn’t seem to notice you’re there.

You clear your throat gently, “Excuse me?”

Yoongi jumps, almost throwing his phone. “Fuck!” He exclaims. His fists come up ready to fight before he sees it’s you and Jeongguk. He then places his hand over his heart. “Shit, you scared me.” He chuckles, recovering quickly. “How can I help you?”

You stare at him for a moment longer before speaking up. “Um yeah, I was just wondering where your harnesses are?”

He leans on the counter, head in his hand looking kinda bored. “Hanresses? What kind? Hanging harness? Body harness?”

You glance at Jeongguk and he looks like he’s going to die.

“The um- strap on harnesses?” Your voice goes to a whisper when you say it, despite it just being you guys in the store.

Yoongi sits up, and looks at you, and then looks at Jeongguk. A look of understanding comes over his face along with an amused smile. He nods to himself, while getting up to help you. “Nice. Follow me.”

Jeongguk gapes at the ‘nice’ and looks at you in disbelief. You pat his butt telling him to get going. 

With some help from Yoongi you pick out a harness that looks supportive and comfortable, the ring that holds the dildo, compatible with both the ones that you plan on getting. It’s a simple adjustable black one. Yoongi recommended wearing something under it if the straps dig into you and irritate. He seems bored, but he’s actually very good at his job, and very knowledgeable.  

Finally you’re at the counter. You place all the items in Yoongi’s reach and he’s just about to tell you the total when Jeongguk perks up.

“Wait!” He says before scurrying off.

It’s quiet for a split second. Before the clerk speaks up.

“He’s cute.”

You smile, “Thanks, he’s mine.”

Yoongi laughs, small little fish teeth and gums on display. Must be a Pisces. You know Pisces teeth. “Does he have any cute friends?”

You nod. “Yeah, but they are dating.”

He shrugs. “Don’t care.”

“Uh… I can give you their Instagrams?”

He pulls out his phone, and follows them right there after a quick glance at their pages. Confidence is nice.

There’s a short lull in the conversation. And Jeongguk seems to be taking his sweet time getting something you guys must have forgotten. Or the poor things lost. It’s a big store. You speak up this time.

“Do you have like a manager I could leave a review for? You were really helpful, and seemed like you really knew what you were talking about.”

He shakes his head. “Nah, I own the place. You think I would be here on a Saturday night if it wasn’t obligatory? Thanks, though.”

“Oh.” You say. That was pretty impressive. The store was quite successful based on the reviews. You would make sure to let Jimin and Taehyung know Yoongi was a business man.

“Okay, I’m back.” Jeongguk announces. “Sorry I forgot where it was.”

He places 2 (two) large bottles of lube on the counter. You cough out a laugh.

“Baby, we have lube at home.”

“But do we have enough?”

“I think maybe one more would be more than enough.”

He ignores you, looking Yoongi in the eyes for the first time tonight. “Add both please.”

Yoongi nods, looking a little scared of Jeongguk’s seriousness, and does as he’s ordered.

After Jeongguk pays, and you both are making your way to the exit, Yoongi calls out, “Good luck, tell your friends to follow me back!”

“Uh- Okay?” Jeongguk yells back. When you’re in the parking lot, he asks, “What the heck was that about?”

You shake your head, laughing to yourself. “Don’t worry about it.”

~~~

As soon as you get back to your dorm, the atmosphere is thick, full of tension and nervous anticipation. Jeongguk’s fidgety, eager to get started. You’re not far off, but contain yourself a little more. Need to keep control of the situation in case Jeongguk gets deep into his mood.

You guys are in the bathroom now, each one washing a toy before you use it. You make sure to unwrap the harness and the lube as well, both at Jeongguk’s insistent request, ensuring you don’t have to stop and deal with it later. 

“Let’s just get undressed in here, it’s where my hamper is.” You say already tugging your shirt over your head, tits bouncing freely. Jeongguk went without briefs today, and you went without a bra.

Jeongguk quietly follows suit, and you don’t miss the way his hands are trembling a little in anticipation. When you’re both naked he kisses you quickly, and jiggles your boobs a little just because they are there and because he can, before saying, “Okay, lets go.” He’s out the bathroom before you can even respond. You laugh to yourself and gather the stuff he forgot in his excitement.

When you walk out with your hands full, you see Jeongguk spreading out a blanket over your comforter.

“Whatcha doin?” You ask curiously, placing the items on the nightstand.

“Gets messy. Wanna save your bedding.” He states.

You squawk, grabbing the blanket he set up on your bed. “Not my baby blanket you monster.”

He laughs, abs tensing. You notice he’s already hanging a little heavy between his thighs. “Sorry. Was the first one I saw.” He walks over to the couch and replaces the blanket that’s hanging over the back with your baby blanket and resets up. “Better?” he asks, extended his arm towards your bed to show off his work.

You nod, and take the few steps needed to close the space between you both. Your hand runs down his belly, and you feel his muscles jump, and you see little goosebumps sprout all over. His hands come up to cup your tits. You kiss softly where his heart is. You look up at him.

“I love you.” You smile.

He blushes. “Love you.” He whispers, before he leans down and slots your lips together.

It’s eager from the start. Your bodies press together, as your hands roam. When he takes a breath and surges back in, your teeth click together is his haste, before his tongue slips into your mouth. He groans into you, his hand going down to cup your ass, squeezing and pulling you impossibly closer. 

You feel his cock against your belly, almost fully hard already. You reach down to wrap a hand around him, wanting to help him get there before you get started. He hisses, thrusting forward instinctively before pulling away. He looks like he hates that he does.

“No- I,” He’s already short of breath, chest rising and falling a little bit faster than normal. “I wanna watch you cum. With the toy.” He reaches around you, grabbing the vibrating dildo. “Please?” He asks. His eyes are fervent.

You take the toy in your hand, and kiss him again softly. “Yeah, baby. Whatever you. It’s all about you tonight.”

He shakes his head. “Always about you too.” 

Your heart beats, happy in your chest. You thought about it earlier in the night, but Jeongguk really was the best lover. He always, always made sure you were taken care of, before, during, and after sex. He was so vocal and communicative, genuinely wanting you to know it was always about both of you, even if one was receiving more attention. He was caring like that in and out of the bedroom. You were so lucky to be his.

“You’re too good to me,” You laugh, climbing onto the bed. You settle back against your pillows, propping some behind you so you can see him, and watch him while you get off. He takes his place in front of you, looking at you expectantly.

He’s impatient, placing his hands on your knees, spreading you open so he can see your cunt. You let him get you into position before saying, “Keep your hands to yourself now, okay?”

He nods, eyes never leaving your pussy. He licks his lips. “Okay.” It’s said in a distracted kind of far away tone.

You hum as you bring the toy to your mouth, getting it wet. You wouldn’t need any lube, you would be dripping in no time. You don’t waste any time putting your free hand down between your legs and spreading your pussy lips, so your clit and the pretty pink center of your cunt are displayed for Jeongguk. You glance at him through your lashes, when you hear a small gasp fall from his lips. He’s already got a hand around himself. Just the tips of his fingers stroking his length, at a leisurely pace. 

“She’s so pretty… You’re so pretty.” His eye flick to your face before zeroing in on your center again.

“Tell me how to do it baby. Tell me what you want to see.” You say, voice salacious and soft. You circle your finger slowly around your nub, dipping inside just a bit to spread your slick around.

When he swallows, it’s audible, his Adam's apple jumping. “I want you to turn it on low, and put it on your clit. I want you to feel good.”

You smile, and drag the tip of it down your body to just above your clit, turning it on the lowest setting before making contact with your sensitive nub. Your legs jolt, almost closing when you feel the vibrations. Even the lowest setting was strong. Your head falls back, and your legs spread more for him once you get used to the strength of the toy. “Fuck…” You breathe.

“Does it feel good?” He asks, greedy for your pleasure.

You nod, eyes still closed, focusing. You move the vibrator in small circles over your clit. You can hear Jeongguk’s breaths speed up.

“Turn it up.” His voice gives away that he’s speeded up his hand on his cock too.

You do as he says, looking at him as you do. He’s sin personified. He’s on his knees, sitting back on his feet, so his thighs are flexed and bulging. His abs tense when his palm twists under the crown of his cock. His eyes almost look black, pupils blown so wide, lust taking over his face. He’s got his plump bottom lip drawn between his teeth. He looks up from your pussy and catches you staring. He smiles shyly.

You keep your eyes on him as you bring the toy back down to your core. A short high pitched moan falls from your lips, as your brows knit together, before your eyes roll back. He groans, your expression enough to make his cock start to leak.

“Feels so good, Jeongguk.” You moan. The vibrator is right where it feels best, pulsing against your clit, causing pleasure to bleed into your veins. 

“Yeah, baby?” He asks, he’s breathless, sounds like he’s in love. With you, your cunt. “Tell me.”

“‘S just right Koo, could make me cum just like this…” 

He curses, and you open your eyes just in time to see him grip the base of his cock, keeping himself in check. “Not yet, baby. Little longer, please.” Still so polite and good for you, even when he’s the one telling you what to do.

He has you keep the vibe there, for a while longer, right in the spot that’s gonna make you lose it. He watches as a tiny clear drop leaks from you pink little pussy. It looks like it’s heavy and about to drip down to the blanket under you. He doesn’t notice your legs shaking until you’re gasping, “Koo, I’m almost- I’m gonna-”

“No!” He says quickly, his hand reaches out to pull the vibrator from your cunt just before you get your high. Your pussy aches and throbs, wanting to cum so bad. 

Your chest is heaving when you ask, “Are… are you edging me?”

He shakes his head, even though your eyes are closed, trying to catch your breath. “No, no! I just. I got distracted.” He looks at that small drop of slick again. Fuck, he wants to lick it up and drink you down. “You’re leaking.” He states.

You laugh, breathing getting back to normal. “Yeah?” You reach your hand down to collect the distracting little droplet and bring it in front of you. You press the sticky finger to your thumb and then pull them apart to see the clear strings stay connected even as you pull. You hum, before offering your hand to Jeongguk. He sucks in a breath.

“Want some?” 

He’s quick as he crawls between you legs, cock fully hard now. He watches you as he sucks your fingers into his mouth, tongue swirling around getting every last bit, before he sucks off with a pop!

He crawls farther up your body to kiss you deep, wanting you to get a taste of yourself too. He pulls back just a bit, and whispers against your lips, “I want you to fuck yourself with it, okay? Just for a little bit, then you can cum?” He’s phrasing it as a question, knowing he really doesn't have the final say, not tonight. But his voice is shaking from how turned on he is, how could you ever say no?

“Sit back.” Is all you respond. He does as he’s told.

You buzz the toy over your clit again, just because you can. Wanting to see how long Jeongguk can be good before begging. Turns out it’s not long at all. 

“Put it in…” He moans. You look at him and his mouth is parted, and his eyes heavy as he watches you. His hand is moving fast over his cock, sticking straight up to his tummy. “Please.”

You drag the toy down to your slit, and tease it there before just barely pushing it in just a fraction of the length. Jeongguk whines, high and desperate. Apparently you’re moving to slow for him.

“More,” He begs. 

You sigh, “You’re so needy tonight, baby.” He nods, agreeable.

When the toy sinks inside of you all the way to the hilt, you and Jeongguk both moan a quiet, “Fuck.” simultaneously. You’re coherent enough to laugh a little at the jinx, but he seems to barely notice, too focused on watching the toy sink into you, and then come back out to vibrate your clit again. You keep up this teasing pattern, again waiting to be told what to do by him, waiting to see how long he makes it this time.

“Harder, do it harder,” He’s panting. Moaning every word that leaves his lips.

You do as he says, and finally push the toy in at a pace that gets you climbing to being close again. You won’t be able to come like this though, and he knows that. Knows that you can only cum from penetration with him. He leans over and grabs the other toy from the end table, spitting on it and spreading it around until it's covered well.

“Use them both, want you to cum for me.”

With two toys in your hands, one in your cunt, filling you up, and one on your clit, making your legs shake, you do your best to make yourself cum. But it’s not enough. A soft whine falls from your lips, you’re so close, but you need more. More than you can give yourself.

“Faster baby, faster. You’re so close.” He whispers. He got both hands working now too, one stroking and one down tugging on his balls. 

You whimper, “I can’t my arm hurts. It’s tired.”

Immediately he stops pleasing himself and gets right to pleasing you. Your pleasure taking priority. “Shh, don’t worry, I’ll help you baby.”

Jeongguk sits between your legs, and takes over the toy fucking into you, and turns up the one on your clit. With him pushing the toy in at a pace that you couldn’t do yourself, and the other toy vibing your clit incessantly, it takes barely any time at all for you to cum. You were so close already, just needed him to push you over. 

Your legs are shaking and your toes are curling, when you cry out, “Baby, I’m gonna cum.”

“Do it, baby. Wanna watch.” He’s quiet, paying close attention to your body and the reactions he’s helping pull from it. He’s part of the reason why your face looks so pornographic as you finish. He’s part of the reason why your back is arching off of the bed. He’s part of the reason why your toes are curling, and why your legs are shaking, and why your pussy is contracting over the toy he’s still thrusting inside of you, working you through every last second of your orgasm. He reads your body cues, and slows down and pulls it out when you start to come down. You look blissed out, and you bring a hand to your hair and fluff it a little before laughing.

“That was good.” You sigh smiling, and when you look at him an image forms in your head, and you have every intention of making him carry it out.

Right before your eyes, Jeongguk wraps his lips around the toy that is going to be inside of him in just a short while, sucking off your slick. He laps his tongue around it trying to get it all. He’s obscene. 

“Gimme,” You say sitting up with an extended hand. 

He pouts at being interrupted, but does as he’s told. He takes your spot on the bed, and you head to the bathroom, stopping by your dresser on the way.

When you get to the bathroom, you close the door and get to cleaning the toys once again. After, you get to the stuff you grabbed from the wardrobe. A lacy pair of black panties, and sheer black thigh highs with matching lace adorning the tops. You slip into them, and then move on to the strap on. You hold it in front of you and try to make sense of which part goes where, and which holes your legs go into. It takes a second, but you get into it, adjusting it so it's nice and snug. Your outfit probably won’t help much with protecting your thighs, but at least the little part above your pussy will be safe. You look at yourself in the mirror. Not too weird or scary yet. You glance at the dildo on the counter.

It’s not too big so hopefully it’s not too… jarring when you see yourself with it. You get to work, slipping the suction base of the non-vibrating toy into the ring that’s meant to hold it in place. You look at it sticking out from your crotch and take a deep breath before turning to the mirror.

You gasp, before cackling quietly. You knew it was going to be weird. Like you knew. But actually seeing yourself with the whole get up is funny. Right now at least. You know it’s going to be sexy, once you get used to it and into the moment and inside of Jeongguk. You wonder how he’s going to react. Only one way to find out.

While you're walking to your bedroom from the bathroom, the dildo bobs, and you're giggling distractedly until you lift your eyes to let your boyfriend know you're ready. Again you’re met with a scene so indecent it belongs in a porno.

Jeongguk’s eyes are closed and soft moans are falling from his lips as he strokes his cock. He’s got three fingers in his ass, opening himself up for you, for your cock. Such a good good boy. He was so patient and productive while you got ready for him.

“You’re so good baby,” You murmur softly.

Jeongguk blinks his eyes open slowly, and rolls his head to the side to look at you. He doesn’t even falter in his movements at all, hand still moving, fingers still thrusting. He smiles a little when he sees you, but his eyes are hazy and he sounds lust drunk when he simply says, “You look sexy.”

You blush and a fond smile graces your lips, any embarrassment or self consciousness you were feeling prior to seeing him spread out for you on your bed, quickly vanishing.

You settle on the bed between his legs and watch for a moment as his hole takes his long fingers in. “Want me to help?” You ask quietly.

“Mhmm,” He nods, eyes closed still, tongue peeking out from between his lips. He doesn’t take his fingers out, though.

You grab the lube next to him, and flip it open. “You gonna get out so I can get in?” 

He shakes his head. “Nuh uh. Put one in with mine.”

Something about that makes your body tingle. Inside of him with him. Opening him up. You can’t explain it, because you don’t really even get it yourself, but it makes you buzz and feel almost high.

You slick up your middle finger, and drizzle some more on his for good measure. He jumps slightly, and then giggles softly.

“Cold.” He says.

“Sorry,” You say distractedly. Your finger is lined up with his now.

“I’ve never done 4 before so you… have to go slow…” He pauses as he speaks, letting himself moan freely when his fingers graze over that secret spot that he’s grown to love so much.

“Tell me to stop if you need to.”

He doesn’t reply, just stops his fingers so you can wiggle yours in next to his. At the first push against his hole, there’s resistance. Very much expected. He’s quiet, teeth gritted, but he never says stop, knowing his body wants it, and knowing it will accommodate what he wants. After the second knuckle, your finger sinks in, almost gets sucked in, by his hole.

He lets out a shaky breath.

“You okay, baby?” You check in.

“Yeah just… full.” He moans when you wiggle your finger experimentally. “”S good. Move it some more.”

You do, and his start to move with yours. You can feel his fingers curl inside of himself to reach his prostate, and it’s pleasant in an out of body way, knowing when his face is going to contort in pleasure, and when he’s going to cry out, when you never really knew before. You’ve milked him before, of course, but feeling him do it to himself from the inside? It’s kind of thrilling.

“Pull, stretch me out.” He moans, voice impatient and needy.

He gets kinda slutty when something’s up his ass.

He swears when you do, his finger rubbing insistent circles on his prostate to distract himself from the minor sting of the stretch. His moans, start to raise in pitch and his hand that’s on his cock, still jerking it, starts to speed up. You can tell he’s close. He clenches against your finger that’s still stretching him open.

“Fuck,” He says, on a breathless giggle, “Take them out. Or I’m gonna cum.” He’s still stroking his cock, like he doesn’t wanna stop.

“You c-” 

“No. Out.” He demands, hand finally pulling away from his cock, and his fingers inside stop. You gently ease out of him.

When Jeongguk’s fingers slip out, you gasp. His little pink hole is clenching on nothing, still open just the tiniest bit, thoroughly stretched.

“You know how you always say my pussy is pretty?” You ask, fingers tracing around the puffy stretched rim.

He makes an affirmative noise, watching you with hooded, lazy eyes as you touch him. He even spreads farther so you can touch and see better. You marvel at the difference between the embarrassed boy you made cum untouched a couple months ago, and the one in front of you now, so comfortable and relaxed. It makes you happy.

“Well, your butthole is pretty.”

He snorts, and kicks you lightly. He smiles at you, soft and sluggish. “Just fuck me.” 

He sounds so wistful and just ready.

But you’re not.

You grip the base of your cock, and stand up. You walk to the head of the bed, next to his confused face. You stay there waiting for him to get it. He doesn’t.

“You want me inside of you right baby?” You ask, voice gentle.

He nods, eyes no longer hazy, but wide and confused. He looks between you and your cock.

“I think that means you have to get me ready. Get me nice and wet, right?”

You can physically see when Jeongguk gets it. When it clicks for him. His eyes darken, and he licks his lips. “Yeah… You’re right. I should… help you.” He whispers, sitting up. You back up enough for him to have a place on the floor.

Jeongguk on his knees for you isn’t a new sight. He’s eaten your pussy like this before, you either grinding onto his face, or him holding you still and making quick work of your clit. But Jeongguk on his knees for you to suck your cock? New, and lewd. 

He looks nervous, kind of hesitant. A hand is raised midway, like he isn't sure if he should grab it. 

“Lick it, baby.” You encourage.

He glances at you, doe eyes seeking approval as he leans forward and gives a kitten lick to the tip. You nod, letting him know he’s doing well. His hand comes up and replaces yours at the base and he opens his mouth enough to wrap his lips around the head, and he swirls his tongue.

He pops off, and strokes up to where his mouth was and spreads the little bit of spit. The silicone is still dry though, so he spits on it more, straight from his mouth. You suck in a breath.

“Fuck, you’re so hot baby.” You whisper a breathy moan as his hands move up and down your cock. He adds his mouth again.

He hums a little, before backing up and looking at you again. “Does that feel good?” He asks.

You laugh lightly, in pure awe of him. He’s so sexy, and so sweet, and so incredibly lust inducing. Your pussy aches behind your cock. “Feels so good, baby. You’re doing so good.”

He hums, still stroking you off. “I really want it inside me…” He says, hinting that he’s ready.

You have mercy on him, having fulfilled your newfound personal fantasy enough for the night. Maybe you could revisit it another time. But now it was time to fulfill a mutual fantasy.

“On the bed, hands and knees.” You tell him.

Excitedly he hops back onto the bed, and gets into position, his hole on display for you. His back is arched and you can see the plush swell where his lower back meets the top of his cheeks. You settle behind him, and his shoulder to waist to hip ratio, is sinful. He’s always had the daintiest waist, strong, but still so small. But at this angle, it’s cinched and the way his legs are spread makes his hips look wider, accentuating the dip at his middle. You rub your hands over the narrow curve, all the way to his cheeks, grabbing handfuls of the muscle. There’s a slight give when you squeeze your hands.

Jeongguk’s head drops, and he lets out a shuddering sigh, he’s got the chills again, and he’s got a constant thrum coursing through his body. “Please…” He moans, so quietly, so desperately.

You kiss the small of his back before grabbing the lube left abandoned on the bed. You lather 2 of your fingers, and push them into Jeongguk’s hole making sure he’s nice and slick. There’s no resistance at all, hole loose and ready enough for them to slip right in. Then you lather your cock, probably with too much lube, honestly, but you wanted to be so sure that he didn’t feel any more pain than absolutely necessary. You knew the first initial push in would be the worst, but you were hopeful you both had stretched him out enough to at least minimize or diminish it altogether. 

You grab the base of your cock and line it up with his hole. It flutters, when you barely press against his rim.

“Ready?” You ask, giving a heads up.

“Yeah.” He says softly.

He’s tight. His hole sinks in with the tip of your cock before the rim gives and swallows around it. Jeongguk tenses and his hands grip the blanket under you. 

“Shit…” He groans. He sounds like he’s clenching his teeth.

You rub soothingly at his lower back, fingers dipping when you run them over the dimples at the bottom of his spine. “You’re doing so good baby.” You tell him.

“Doesn’t really hurt, I’m just stretching.” He says through his teeth. “I can take it though, keep going.”

You grab the lube and drizzle more directly onto his hole. He doesn’t mention the cold this time, too focused on taking your cock. You push against him, and feel yourself sink deeper into him. It’s like after the tip was in, his body knew what to do to take the rest. The slide wasn’t a swift, fast stroke, but it was a smooth and slow glide. When you bottom out Jeongguk’s arms give out from under him, his face going to the bed. 

“Holy fuck.” He keens, resting his head on his arms. Your hands are constantly on him, soothing him in any way that you can.

“Tell me when.” You whisper patiently. He nods. With his head turned to the side and pillowed on his arms, you can see his eyes are squeezed shut. The inhales and exhales you can see in the expanding of his ribcage, tell you that he’s taking deep breaths working through the stretch, getting himself used to it.

“Okay… Ready.” He murmurs.

You pull out just a bit before pushing back in. Jeongguk moans softly. Spreads his legs even wider, arches his back even deeper. He’s pushing his ass out for you, his body begging you to make it feel good.

You keep a slow pace, kind of nervous to speed up. 

“You can go faster, feels nice.” He says. He’s been puffing out little gasps of air every time you bottom out with your slow pace.

With his consent, you grab at his hips and pull out to just the tip, before swiftly pushing back in, fast and hard. His cheeks bounce on the impact. You grab one and jiggle it a little, thrusting into him again, drinking down the whines that slip out.

“You’ve got such a bubble butt, I never noticed before. But it like… bounces.” You say, wonder in your tone. 

“Thanks, can you like tell me about it later?” He asks, voice strained.

Point taken. 

Your thrust game is kind of shitty, in reality. It’s hard to find a rhythm, your hips not used to moving this way. But Jeongguk is moaning freely underneath you, just happy to have something inside of him after thinking about it all week. So you keep going, and eventually, the pattern comes to you, still kind of messy, but now you’ve got him cursing beneath you. You’ve got one hand on his ass, the other braced on his arched spine.

A particularly good thrust has Jeongguk burying his face into the bed, teeth biting at the bedding. “Yeah fuck-” He groans with his mouth full of blanket. With his hands now free, he brings them behind him and settles them on his cheeks and spreads.

You watch clearly as your cock sinks into Jeongguk’s ass. You’re out of breath, but you make sure to tell him how good he looks, how pretty his hole looks swallowing your cock, like it was made to take it.

“Wanna ride you.” He says. His voice is pitifully wrecked and he sounds so thoroughly fucked, you feel a little proud. Still, you’re grateful for a break. You don’t know how he fucks you like he does. ‘Topping’ is tiring. You pull out of him, and realize that when you were in awe of his hole at taking your fingers, it was premature. Jeongguk’s hole after he takes your cock is vulgar. It’s properly gaped now. Not huge, but around a fingers width.

He rolls over, and settles on his back like he just needs a moment. His chest is heaving, similar to yours. You hop off the bed, and a needy keen comes from him. You glance back at him, and he looks like he’s going to get up and follow you, but you hush him gently.

“I’m just getting some water, baby. I’ll be right back.” 

He huffs flopping back onto his back. “Hurry please.” He whines.

You get back as soon as possible with a glass of water for you both to share. He sits up onto one elbow and makes a grabby hand for the cup after you’ve had your share. You swat his hand away and hold the cup to his lips. He hums, gulping the water down. He’s happy to be coddled and taken care of. When he finishes with a cute little gasp, you place the cup to the side, and brush your hand through his sweaty hair. 

He butts his head against your palm and laughs. His eyes shut, and crinkled at the corners. His water break seems to have perked him up. His cock hasn’t deflated one bit. Rock hard and red, throbbing against his tummy. It’s messy and wet too.

You’re about to ask if he touched himself while you were inside of him, but before you can, you’re getting manhandled until he’s on top of you. He’s got your hands pinned above your head, and he smiles at you playfully, before leaning down to kiss you, deep and slow. He sucks on your lip, and slowly grinds his cock onto your belly, soft whines spilling from his tongue. He brushes his nose against yours as he sighs into your mouth, finally allowing himself the pleasure of paying attention to his cock. 

He doesn’t allow himself relief for long, however. He’s sitting up and looking from side to side for the lube before finally spotting it. His movements are quick and hectic, like he’s too excited and overly eager.

You rub your hands over his strong thighs. “Hey, slow down. You don’t have to rush. We have all night.”

He sighs at your touch, and nods softly. He whispers. “Yeah… okay. I love you.”

The little affection makes you swoon, absolutely smitten. “I love you.” You squeeze at his legs, tenderly.

He hums. “Gonna ride you now.” He opens the lube and continues with eager actions, almost like you didn’t even slow him down just a moment ago. You smile fondly to yourself. Jeongguk’s too busy slicking up your cock again to notice the mushy look.

He’s got a hand reaching behind him and he’s gripping your cock to line it up with his hole. He wiggles to get into the right position before slowly starting to sink down. His eyebrows are pinched, and his mouth falls open. But his eyes roll back when he bottoms out. His hands are braced on your stomach.

“Oh, I love it like this.” He whimpers. His legs tense at your sides, almost like he’s trying to close his legs at the pleasure he feels from your cock being tucked inside of him, hitting all the right places. He starts to grind on your cock, soft pleasured little mewls just tumbling off his tongue.

He looks so good, whining, grinding on you with his weeping cock displayed. But you wanna see him lose it on your cock. See him fall apart at how good it feels, not watch him bask in it.

“Bounce on it.” You say, voice sounding almost as fucked out as his. You know your panties are soaked through at this point, pussy pulsing and neglected, tucked away behind the strap.

Jeongguk nods. “Yeah, wanna.” 

He’s lifting himself off your cock to the tip before sliding down on it again, hard and fast. It punches a sharp gasp from his lungs. He finds a pace he likes and keeps it up, his thighs tensing, and his abs flexing as he tests his stamina, chasing that euphoric feeling he wants so so badly. He’s so strong and fit, bouncing up and down on your cock as loud unabashed moans fill the room. 

The force of him riding you makes your tits jiggle, bouncing around until they catch his attention. He groans before his hands find them, squeezing hard, using them as leverage as he pulls and drags his hips over yours. Your cock must be rubbing over his prostate because he’s losing his mind. All kinds of noises leave his mouth, and the expressions he makes are filthy.

“Fuck baby. You make me feel so good. The best- I-” He eyes squeeze shut and his mouth opens in a silent moan, overwhelmed, before a guttural groan sounds from deep within his chest. “God. Wanna cum on your cock, baby. Fuck me-”

You laugh, wonderstruck, and kind of deliriously high on the satisfaction and fulfillment you get from seeing Jeongguk feel so just…. Good. “Yeah baby? You’re gonna cum for me? All over my cock?”

He whimpers and nods as he gets back to bouncing, a desperation to his movements that wasn’t there before. His cock is slapping against both of your stomachs with nasty wet noises due to his precum getting everywhere. You feel some fly and hit your neck, his cock just dripping, weeping and begging to cum. 

It won’t be long though, before he cums. You feel the way his thighs tense, and he gets that confused look on his face, and he’s got that puzzled pitch to his moans. It’s the way he always gets when he cums untouched, always in awe that he can do it himself, without a hand around his cock. His whole body is flushed and hot to the touch, sweat making him glow in the soft light of your bedroom lamp.

He throws his head back, neck extended, and veins bulging, before looking down at his bouncing cock. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He’s so whiny and noisy when he moans.

“Yeah?” You ask again, “Do it baby, show me how. You can do it, cum for me.” 

He’s nodding frantically, “Yeah- I’m gonna... Fuck, yes- Yeah, I’m-” He bounces a few more times, silent aside from the obscene squelching noises of your skin meeting, before his body tenses one last time before that string in him snaps. “Cumming-” He chokes it out. His moans don’t stop the whole time his cock shoots out his load, landing on your tummy. The moans even turn into cries, actual tears filling his eyes and falling down his cheeks. His body jerks and twitches with his orgasm. But still, he’s grinding on you, your cock still rubbing that spot inside of him, it’s like he never wants the feeling to end, even if it’s devastating, bordering on too much to handle.

You smooth your hands all over his sweaty body, before firmly placing them on his hips, stopping him. “Hey. You’re good, you did so good baby, you don’t have to keep going.”

Jeongguk’s cries are quiet, and he takes a few deep stuttering breaths to try and calm himself down, nodding with your soothing words. He rubs the back of his hand at his eyes, trying to dry them. It doesn’t help much, he’s calmed himself some but a few silent tears still make their way out, along with some soft hiccupping breaths.

“Lay down, and wait for me, hmm?” You whisper gently. He nods and lifts himself slowly, wincing at the sore ache in his hole. It’s more prevalent now that the pleasure has subsided. He all but collapses onto your pillow. 

“I’m gonna get some more water, and a towel okay?”

He grunts in response.

Before you go, you strip out of the gear, just tossing it on the ground, eager to get back to Jeongguk after getting the things you need.

When you get back, he is in the same exact position, and you laugh lightly. 

“Baby?” You ask, making sure he didn’t fall asleep.

Another grunt.

Good, he would hate you in the morning if you left him to sleep being so messy.

“Sit up, I have water and snacks and cleaning supplies.”

His head pops up. “Snacks?” His hair is sticking up on one side.

You laugh, endeared. He’s not crying anymore either, a good sign that he will be okay in just a little while after some kisses and love.

“Yeah, I got some of those seaweed chips you like, and some water.”

He sits up, leaning back on the pillows knowing the drill for after butt stuff. You hand him the water and the chips. He eats first.

“You hungry?” You ask, fitting yourself between his legs with the warm washcloth. He opens easily, munching away. You both are far past after sex shyness.

He talks with his mouth full. “Yeah. Jimin said not to eat the day off.”

You hum curiously, but don’t question it. Jimin partakes in butt stuff much more than you both. 

You’ve got all the lube cleaned off his thighs and cheeks, now all that’s left is his hole. You do it as gently as you can, knowing he’s sore just from how red and swollen and puffy it is.  But he still winces.

“How bad is it?” He mumbles.

You hesitate. “Um… You’re gonna be a little sore.” You tell him simply.

He groans, before downing his water. When he’s done, he says, “Practice is going to suck.”

You nod in agreement. It was. You wrap the used cloth in the blanket you used to protect your sheets, once again just tossing the bundle to the floor.

“Worth it though,” He smiles, pleased.

You chuckle as you find your place by him. He’s set his refreshments aside and lets you curl against him. His body sags with exhaustion when he feels your warmth press into him. You plant kisses on every inch of skin you can reach. He purrs.

“Why’d you keep going?” You ask, between smooches.

“I don’t know… it just felt so good. I guess I didn’t want it to stop.” He’s quiet, and his words are said on a sigh.

You nod, your kisses making your way to his lips. You just kiss him, slow and easy, for a few minutes until he yawns into it. He giggles.

“I’m so tired man.”

“I bet man.” You tease.

He kisses you one more time before asking, “Will you tickle my back until I fall asleep?” It’s hopeful and so sugary sweet.

“Yeah roll over.”

It’s barely a few minutes before you're met with his soft snores. You kiss his shoulder blade, before following right behind him.

~~~~

you ask for pegging and you shall receive :] i hope you liked it and that it met ur pegging standards askdkhjd as always, comments and feedback and asks and notes are loved and appreciated. thank you for reading friends ily :* 

[pumpkinov]

Where the Dust Settles

This chapter is a little weird, but there's lots of things I need to set up. Bear with me, I promise, we're heading somewhere with this!

You can read Chapter 1 here

Portia Collins, the sole survivor of Vault 111 has lost more than most. With the Institute defeated, she sets her sights to the next big jobs - unification of the Commonwealth wastelands and the large warship docked at the Boston Airport. More work for the General of the Minutemen, who is finding herself increasingly alone as her companions move on with their lives. John Hancock, the Ghoul Mayor of Goodneighbour is struggling to find his footing in the new political climate of the Commonwealth, and is finding a surprisingly vocal supporter in his local Minuteman General.

Chapter 2. I can hold a grudge like nobody’s business

There is an important meeting, Piper chain-smokes and Hancock climbs a heavy set of stairs.

He fucking showed.

“Well, fuck me.” Portia exhaled in surprise, as the red figure approaching her across the quiet square held his arms out wide. There was an interesting leap in her chest as he grinned. Fuck he was smug. But it was hard not to smile back, despite the almost constant urge to hit him.

Mayor Hancock was an anomaly.

“Good morning, General.” He whipped his tricorn hat off his head and held it to his chest as he dropped into an exaggerated bow.

“Good morning, Mayor.” Portia offered him a cigarette, which he accepted. They stood in silence for a moment, their breath fogging between them. It was still in the square, it had snowed overnight and the ground beneath their feet was covered in a soft powder that would no doubt turn to a dirty, watery sludge by midday. The air was crisp, and Portia’s nose and cheeks were already turning red. The sun lay in bars across the ground as it rose through the buildings.

Hancock exhaled smoke. “You’re surprised to see me, aren’t you?”

Portia raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t pick you for an early riser.”

He shrugged, flicking the ash off the tip of his cigarette. “I don’t sleep much.” He paused, then grinned wickedly, “Bed serves a different purpose these days.”

Portia opened her mouth to scold him, but was interrupted.

“General?” She turned to see Preston walking down the steps of the Rexford. He was in better shape than she expected, honestly. He had a dark hickey on the side of his neck, but his eyes weren’t bloodshot and he wasn’t swaying.

“Good night, Preston?” Portia asked, reaching to adjust his scarf. He grinned broadly, and batted her hand away.

Hancock snickered, and pitched his cigarette butt into the gutter. “Should we get this freakshow on the road?”

Preston hummed in agreement, slinging his laser musket across his shoulder.

Portia’s rifle was strapped to her back, her pistol strapped to one leg, and her combat knife strapped to the other. She eyed Hancock, who appeared weaponless. He waved an arm towards the entrance of Goodneighbour. “After you!”

The streets of Boston were quiet this early in the morning. The regular patrols of Minutemen and traders helped keep the path between Diamond City and Goodneighbour relatively safe, though all three kept their heads on a swivel as they made their way through the shell of the city.

Hancock moved slightly ahead of them, and Preston fell into step next to her.

“How did you convince him to come?” He asked, quietly. Preston had spent a good hour trying to convince the mayor to accompany them to the council meeting the day before.

Portia shrugged. “I appealed to his better nature.”

Preston hummed a little, “You wore him down.” Portia knocked her shoulder against him, causing him to sway a little. He grinned back at her, before adjusting his hat. “I’m glad he’s here. I know he’s a pain in the ass, but-”

“He’s a wildcard.” Portia muttered. “I’m not sure if he’s going to dazzle them all, or stab them all.”

Preston shrugged. “It’s the Commonwealth, General. That’s a risk we’re always taking.”

Hancock stopped, spinning on his boot heel. A shotgun had appeared in his hands, and his face was serious. “If you two are done gossiping, we have company.” A bullet whistled past Portia’s side, and she heard the garbled cry of the supermutant who had shot it. The angry green face attached to the cry peered out from the side of a building just up ahead. Portia whipped her rifle off her back, as Preston cranked his laser musket. She aimed and fired off a shot, clipping the mutant in the shoulder. He cried and stumbled, before letting another bullet fly, at Hancock this time. The mutant’s aim was off, and Preston dispatched him with ease.

Another mutant appeared in the doorway of the building, running headlong at Hancock. She heard his rough laugh, before he unloaded a shell into the green creature’s face. He disappeared from her view in an explosion of blood and gore, both Portia and Preston breaking into a run to reach him. He was standing over the headless body of the mutant, his face pulled into a snarl that made him almost unrecognizable. Portia reached for him, her fingers brushing his coat.

“Hancock, are you-” She faltered a little, his eyes were wide and wild. There was a flash of memory, Portia; fresh out of the deep freeze and entering Goodneighbour, Hancock sliding a knife between the ribs of a man who had threatened her. The face was the same. Hancock took a breath, and adjusted his hat. The fierce look started to melt out of his eyes as he looked at her, his breath rising hot in front of his face in the crisp air.

“I’m fine, sister. And you two?”

“We’re fine.” Portia realised she was still holding onto his sleeve, and released it. Preston clapped Hancock on the shoulder.

“Excellent spotting, sorry we were late on the draw.”

Hancock smirked a little, looking more like himself. “Lucky I have my cat-like reflexes, Garvey.” Preston grinned ruefully, “Look I’ll take that. I’ll spot the next ones.”

“Good man.” Hancock gripped Preston’s wrist tightly, eyes shining.

The rest of the way to Diamond City was uneventful.

There were two familiar figures standing at the gates to the city. Piper was smoking furiously, pacing back and forward. Nick Valentine stood straight and still, watching for their arrival. Portia’s chest warmed at the sight of the pair. Preston raised a hand in greeting, and when they were in earshoot Piper pitched her cigarette and broke out into a jog, colliding with Portia and smacking a loud kiss on the side of her head. “Blue!” Portia laughed and wrapped her arms around Piper, lifting her feet a little off the ground. Piper reached for her battered red hat to stop it sliding off her head, “Put me down!” she shrieked. Portia released her as they moved forward, keeping a hand on Piper’s arm as she staggered a little.

They reached Nick, who shook Preston’s hand warmly before enfolding Portia in a hug. His metal hand pushed briefly between her shoulder blades before he released her. His yellow eyes landed on Hancock, who stood slightly aside from them.

“It’s good to see you, John.”

“Likewise, Nicky.” Hancock rasped, his eyes crinkling again at the corners. Piper pursed her lips, another cigarette already clamped between them. Portia squeezed her hand, before turning her attention to Preston.

“Are we ready for this, Garvey?”

Preston met her gaze. He looked nervous, but resolute. He nodded. “Yes General, I think we are.”

Portia smiled a little, trepidation twisting through her stomach. “Right, let’s get this over with.”

Hancock hesitated at the steps. He watched the welcome party climb the stairs ahead of him, talking excitedly. He took a deep breath - the place looked almost unchanged. His sense of smell wasn’t the strongest these days, but he could still make out the smell of Takashi’s noodles, the scent of paint and dirt. Diamond fuckin’ City. He never thought he’d come back here. He took a deep breath, and stepped onto the first step. The rest were easier to take.

McDonough’s old office had been stripped bare. There were chairs gathered in a semicircle, with Piper set up at the desk in the corner. There were settlers clumped in groups around the room, Hancock stood to the side, leaning against the wall, observing. Trying not to notice the bloodstain in the corner where the synth (his brother?) had died a few months previously. The floor was wet from the melting snow off everyone’s shoes. His eyes followed Portia as she moved around the room, greeting people. She was smiling, touching people, remembering names and faces. He didn’t really recognise any of the people in this room, except for Wiseman, who ran The Slog. Their eyes met, but there was no flicker of recognition in the old ghoul’s eyes. Wiseman remembered a different John, in a different lifetime. Eventually Portia arrived at the front of the room, and it fell quiet. She cleared her throat, and glanced up. Her eyes met Hancock’s for a moment. He felt a smile stretch the corner of his mouth up, and she bit down on her bottom lip, smiling in response. There was warmth in those eyes, despite how cold she could be. Lady will be the absolute death of me he thought idly, his eyes drifting down her frame as she started speaking.

“Welcome, everyone. This is the first time in a long time we’ve had a meeting like this. The people in this room represent the settlements of the Commonwealth, and for anyone in this room who may not know me, I am General Collins, leader of the Commonwealth Minutemen. This is my second in command, Preston Garvey, and I’ve bought you all here today to discuss the future of Diamond City, and the future of the Commonwealth as a whole.”

Portia had been right all along, Hancock mused to himself, this meeting had been important. And deeply, deathly boring. They discussed trade routes, infrastructure, and people brought up grievances both imagined and real. He tried to listen, he really did, but similar to his brief foray into education he found his mind drifting. He slid a box out of his pocket, and placed a mentat on his tongue. As he was trying to surreptitiously close the box again, he glanced up and caught Piper’s eye. She frowned at him disapprovingly, and he fought against the childish urge to poke his tongue out at her. He glanced out the window and saw that the sun was already heading back down again in the sky, how the fuck was it late afternoon already? His gaze fell down to the market below them, watching the small smudges that were the citizens of Diamond City go about their business. It looked the same from when he was younger. Except it wasn’t the same. Not anymore.

Portia was still standing in the front of the semicircle of chairs. She had tied her long brown hair back off her face while Hancock had been staring out the window, and he realised he’d never seen her with her hair up. The back and sides of her head were shaved. He wondered idly how those shaved parts would feel against the palms of his hands and grinned quietly to himself. He felt the mentat starting to work as it melted in his mouth, he was finding the words coming from the General a lot easier to follow. She was discussing the upcoming election for the new mayor of Diamond City.

“I think we’ve probably covered enough for one day,” she smiled, rubbing the back of her hand across her eyes briefly. “We’ll meet up again tomorrow, to discuss the Diamond City election a little more before this meeting is completely adjourned. Are there any questions before we call it a day?”

There were murmurs as a negative response to her question from the rest of the settlers, but Hancock found himself pushing his upper body off against the wall and stepping forward.

“I have a question, actually.”

Portia’s eyes met his from across the room. Her eyes were no longer warm, they were tired and guarded, but she still inclined her head.

“The floor recognises Mayor Hancock, of Goodneighbour.”

Heads turned to stare at him, and he found himself smiling, not in a particularly pleasant way. He fixed his stare on Geneva, sitting in one the chairs closest to Portia, his idiot brother’s old assistant.

“I’d like to know what plans are in place to remove the Anti Ghoul Decree of 2282?” He swirled the mentat around his mouth languidly, feeling it spike in the back of his skull. “Since both myself and Wiseman here are standing in the former mayor’s office, I would assume it has been retired at least in a non official capacity?”

Geneva looked at Portia, then Preston, then met his gaze. “Diamond City currently has only a small council, no changes to policy can be made at this time.”

Hancock raised a bony ridge where an eyebrow would be. “And is there discussion to remove it once there is a new mayor?”

“I - uh -” Geneva trailed off, looking back at Portia for assistance. Portia sighed, and stepped forward.

“That’s an excellent question Mayor, let’s table it and add it to the agenda to discuss tomorrow?” Her eyes met his again, this time pleading.

“I’d really like an answer now.” He smiled. She took another step forward.

“Mayor I don’t believe anyone has the capacity to answer this -”

“It’s a simple question,” he stepped backwards, opening his arms wide and looking around the room. “I just want to know if there’s any plans to allow the ghoul’s who used to live here to come home? The ones who survived, of course.”

The silence was heavy in the room. No one would look at him except Wiseman, whose face was emotionless.

“Good to know.” Hancock returned his gaze to Portia, and smiled. “Good to know. That’s all I had General, thank you.”

[thedevilsmemes]

      PINTEREST QUOTES I USE IN MY MUSINGS BOARDS                         ~ A SENTENCE MEME - PART 2

                         Change pronouns as / when needed to preferred pronoun.

“I do not do justice, I do damage. I do not do empathy, I do damage. I do not do forgiveness, I do damage. I do not do mercy, I do damage.”

“Like, you can boss me around in sexual situations but you better not try to tell me what to do in regular life.”

“I’m fine, I’ve had worse.”

“I’m meaner than my demons.”

“If I cannot bend Heaven, I will raise Hell.”

“Well, aren’t you a little ray of pitch black?”

“He was like a storm.”

“You want to play dirty? Fine, let’s play dirty!”

{ feels an emotion. } “Who the fuck authorised this?!”

“What the fuck? What the fuck is this? What the fuck?”

“Judge if you want. We are all going to die. I intend to deserve it.”

“Goddamn right you should be scared of me.”

“They wanted a monster; I decided to give them one.”

“Seduce and destroy.”

“What the fuck is intimacy? How does that work? Letting… people be close to you? What the fuck?”

“You couldn’t kill me if you tried for one hundred years.”

“I’ll do this my way.”

“I am severely emotionally unstable.”

“What, from the bottom of the heart, the fuck?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t take any orders. I barely take suggestions.”

“I send my best regards from Hell.”

“I like my coffee how I like myself: Dark, bitter and too hot for you.”

“Me and God, we don’t get along.”

“Be brave, Angel.”

“Self care is drinking three pots of coffee and getting into a knife fight with God.”

{ takes gulp of vodka straight from the bottle } “My day was fine.”

“Have I stabbed you? No. Then I am being nice.”

“Holy Shit! I’M the demon living in my house.”

“Sir, that’s my emotional support knife collection.”

“I want an ancient elaborate dagger with my name engraved into the blade as a gift. The only romantic gesture.”

“ ‘Are you a top or a bottom?’ I'm a threat!”

“Stop being so defensive! I’m just trying to hit you with weapons.”

“The more knives you have the more valid you are.”

“She’s strong but she’s exhausted.”

“She loves moonlight and rainstorms and so many other things that have soul.”

“My darling, you can’t see it can you? How like the moon you are. Both of you so timid in yourselves; hiding pieces from the world. Then, there are those rare moments when you are both full, and it becomes hard to look away. You are beautiful.”

“Calm her chaos but never silence her storm.”

“She wears strength and darkness equally well. That girl has always been half Goddess, half Hell.”

“She has been through Hell, so believe me when I say, fear her when she looks into the fire and smiles.”

“She’s proof that you can walk through Hell and still be an angel.”

“She is both hellfire and holy water. And the flavour you taste depends on how you treat her.”

“Even the mountains can not hold all you have been carrying.”

“Storm with skin.”

“She’s thunderstorms”

“Kindness is a language that the deaf can hear and the blind can see.”

“Sometimes it takes only one act of kindness and caring to change a person’s life.”

“You have a heart of gold.”

“Butterflies are the Heaven-sent kisses of an angel.”

“She who is brave is free.”

“Clever as the Devil and twice as pretty.”

“Shut up. I wear heels bigger than your dick.”

“Girls who run in heels should be feared.”

“Family is everything to me.”

“She’s an old soul that believes in chivalry, romance, and love.”

“I hate getting flashbacks from things I don’t want to remember.”

“I run on coffee and grace.”

“I’m glad I’ve got boobs… the last thing I need is people making eye contact with me.”

“Tell me to put on my big girl panties one more time… and I’ll take off my thong and strangle you with it!”

“Please read all my posts in a sarcastic tone. You know, for full effect.”

“I have one nerve left and you’re dry-humping it, go away.”

“If I offend you, cry me a river. I’ll bring snacks and a raft. I will literally float down your tears, eating chips and working on my tan.”

“When she is happy, she can’t stop talking. When she is sad, she doesn’t say a word.”

“Music becomes my best friend when nobody else understands me.”

“Act like a lady, think like a boss.”

“I know I have friends but I feel I have no one to talk to about the shit that goes on in my head.”

“She was special. She combined a mean angel and a kind devil.”

“So much pain for someone so young.”

“She’s one of a kind.”

“Red lips and wine sips.”

“Brave girl, it’s time to love again.”

“She is intelligent.”

“Sometimes, when I say ‘I’m okay.’ I want someone to look me in the eyes, hug me tight, and say, ‘I know you’re not.’ ”

“Because I’m not the kind of girl guys fall in love with.”

“I fear I will spend my life, waiting for a love story that doesn’t exist.”

“You’re a woman, use it; bring every man you meet to his motherfucking knees.”

“She denies it but, the truth is, she’s falling in love with him.”

“Hearing your heels click on the floor sounds like power.”

“She loves deeply, regardless of the love she gets back in return and it’s both her biggest strength and biggest weakness…”

“Experience raised her. Hurt taught her. Neither defined her.”

“She was not fragile like a flower was, she was fragile like a bomb.”

“Life is short; make every hair flip count.”

“I’ve always been someone who looks ‘too deep’ into something or someone. That’s because I realised from a young age that there’s always more than what meets the eye.”

“If I say ‘first of all’ Run away because I have prepared research, data, charts, and will destroy you.”

“Underestimate me, that’ll be fun.”

“You think I’m sarcastic? You should hear what I don’t say!”

“She’s a combination of sensitive and savage.”

“Stay classy, sassy and a bit bad assy.”

“She’s battling things her smile will never tell you about.”

 “Ain't you ever seen a princess be a bad bitch?”

“I was told I was dangerous… I asked why? They said ‘because you don’t need anyone.’ That’s when I smiled.”

“She’s been through hell and came out an angel. You didn’t break her darling, you don’t own that kind of power.”

“Watch me. I will go to my own sun and, if I am burned by the flames, I will fly on scorched wings.”

“Her messy hair is a visible attribute to her stubborn spirit. As she shakes it free, she smiles, knowing wild is her favourite colour.”

“She’s strong. But in the back of her mind she doesn’t think that she was meant to be this strong for this long. And she wonders if there is a man out there, somewhere, who understands this.”

“She’s not for everyone and she knows it. People find her different and strange. She dances in the rain, she laughs when she cries and loves through her pain. People fear the unknown and they never knew a girl like her.”

“Don’t tell a girl with fire in her veins and hurricane bones what she should and shouldn’t do. In the blink of an eye, she will shatter that ridiculous cage you attempt to build around her beautiful bohemian spirit.”

“You provoke her until she roars and then get upset at her for becoming the monster you created.”

“Rip out his ego with your fresh nails.”

“She isn’t the sunrise; she’s the fucking sun.”

“You can’t touch a woman who can wear pain like the grandest of diamonds around her neck.”

“Watch your tongue around her. She will bear her fangs and tear you apart with all the grace of a Queen.” 

“If you won’t embrace her madness, then you’ll never taste her magic.”

“Beauty may be dangerous but intelligence is lethal.”

“She is water. Powerful enough to drown you, soft enough to cleanse you, deep enough to save you.”

“Heavy is the crown and yet she wears it as if it were a feather. There is strength in her heart, determination in her eyes and the will to survive resides within her soul.”

“I wish that I could say that I am a light that never goes out, but I flicker from time to time.”

“Spoil me with loyalty. I can finance myself.”

“Shoutout to all the people with brown hair and brown eyes! We basic as fuck but we cute!”

“I feel a nap coming on.”

“Is horny an emotion?”

“I just really like thigh-highs.”

“Even though she looks innocent, she is really a perverted demon.”

“She didn’t sob or wail. Her pain was horribly discreet but as persistent and almost as silent as bleeding from an unstitched wound.”

“I don’t rise from the ashes, I make them. I’m the whole fucking fire.”

“Beautiful but destructive.”

“I’m aiming for the ‘she’s a badass and cute as hell but I wouldn’t touch her without asking’ look.”

“Loving me must be so fucking hard and I’m so sorry.”

“Some women are lost in the fire. Some women are built from it.”

“You glow differently when you’re actually happy.”

“She’s magic, that one.”

“Kicked out of Hell.”

“Red hair: the crown you never take off.”

“You’ve got a fire inside.”

“She doesn’t need a warrior, she is one. What she needs is a devout heart, and strong arms to hold her after her battles are won.”

“You are the love that came without warning: You had my heart before I could say no.”

“You want battle? I’ll give you war.”

“True evil is, above all things, seductive.”

“The Devil’s got nothing on me, my friend.”

“Haven’t I fallen far enough?”

“I’m not like them, but I can pretend.”

“I don’t like being told what to do.”

“Now I grow wings and rage, and learn how to kill.”

“Life is tough, my darling, but so are you.”

“Though she be little, she be fierce.”

“I know what this is; It’s just myself, talking to myself, about myself.”

“You underestimate my power.”

[incorrect-missionimpossible]

So Benji is younger than Ethan right, could you do one where Ethan trains Benjion the basics of being a field agent?

hi anon! thank you for the prompt <3. so, i have no idea what this is. i wrote it in a fit of benthan feelings and love for knife fights. it is also very filled with sexual tension. literally. so much. 

---

Ethan can’t keep his eyes off his new cadet. His name is Benjamin Dunn, Benji for short, and Ethan called him Benj the first time they were introduced, and Benji had blushed, and even the tips of his ears turned a bright red and Ethan was practically in love.

And now he has to spend 6 days a week locked in a small room with a sweaty, very, very cute Benji who has slim muscles and a 5 o’clock shadow and who is absurdly easy to talk to. He’s also smart, and so, so helpful. Ethan watched him pick up an injured bird, for god’s sake, and he knows for a fact that Benji personally nursed the bird back to health. Ethan got regular updates on the state of the bird during their lessons, and when Benji had to release Elliot, Ethan took him out for dinner and ice cream instead of their usual lesson.

Ethan fell a little bit more in love during that dinner.  

Today, Ethan’s teaching Benji how to shoot a gun, which requires Ethan to stand very close to him, chest to back, and it also requires light touches to adjust Benji’s grip and posture.

Okay, so maybe Ethan doesn’t have to stand as close as he is, but. He wants to help Benji as much as he can, and standing close to him is just an advantage. Besides, he’s been getting some pretty strong signals from Benji, and he wants to see where it goes.

“So,” Ethan says softly. His mouth is right by Benji’s ear. “The most important thing is your abdomen and diaphragm, here.” He places a light finger on Benji’s stomach. “Keep your core strong. Arms, strong, but relax your shoulders and neck. Stay on the balls of your feet. Be prepared to move.”

Benji relaxes his shoulders, but his neck is still tense. Ethan presses a light finger to the spot in question.

“Relax,” he says.

“I can’t,” Benji hisses. “Not when you’re-“

His ears turn red, and Ethan grins, because he knows Benji is blushing. He steps away and winks at Benji, who turns redder. “Better?”

Benji scowls. “You’re supposed to be teaching me, Ethan.”

Ethan shrugs. “I am. Aim, and shoot. Keep your arms steady, and be prepared for the kickback. Remember, core strong.”

Benji shoots, and the bullet goes straight through the dummy’s heart.

“See?” Ethan says, beaming. “I am teaching you.”

Benji tips his head back, exposing the long line of his neck (Ethan wants to bite it), and groans.

~~~

Knife fighting isn’t supposed to be intimate, Ethan reminds himself. Benji holding a knife isn’t supposed to be hot, he adds.

But Benji holding a knife is hot, and knife fighting with Benji is intimate.

Dammit.

Benji and Ethan are sparring with wooden knives, stopping the knife before it hits the mark. Ethan stops the match every thirty seconds, points out problems with Benji’s grip, and advising him on posture.

“It’s like a dance,” Ethan explains. “Except one wrong movement and you’re dead.”

“Ok, ok,” Ethan says, when they’re both panting heavily and the knives are slipping from their grasps, slick with sweat. “You’re doing good, Benj. You move fast, and you have control. Use that to win your fights. And remember, don’t be afraid to fight dirty. Your opponent won’t play fair, and neither should you.”

Benji nods.

“Now, the fun part. I’m going to teach you where to stab. Right now, you’ve learned the techniques, how to hold the knife, how to change your grip, how to adjust your posture, and where and when to put the power behind your strike. Can you name three places where, if you stab, your opponent will be weakened?”

“The heart,” Benji answers easily. “Lungs. And throat.”

Ethan hums. “All important parts. Hit them there, they’ll either die-“ Benji’s eyes flicker with an emotion Ethan can’t quite place- “or they’ll be considerably weakened. Other important parts.”

Ethan moves to behind Benji and taps the back of his neck. “Here. You’re going to need force, and power, most importantly, if you’re going to stab someone here.” Moving back to Benji’s front, Ethan taps his neck. “Like you said, throat. Only attempt this if you have a sharp knife. Liver” Ethan taps the space between Benji’s ribs. “Aim here. It should get you a direct hit to the liver, which will incapacitate the person you’re stabbing. And last, but not least, the back of the knee.” Ethan kneels swiftly and taps the back of Benji’s knee, looking up at him through his lashes. “Cut someone here, they won’t be able to move. It’s your best option if you’re trying to make a quick getaway.”

Standing, he’s a little shorter than Benji, but he maintains eye contact as he says, carefully, “You protect these areas at all costs, okay? If you get stabbed there, you die. You can’t die. Understand?”

Benji’s brows furrow, a little, and he blinks at Ethan. “Okay,” he says finally, and Ethan sags with relief.

~~~

It’s the day on Benji’s field exam and Ethan is pacing his office, biting his nails nervously. He doesn’t know what he would do if Benji doesn’t pass, and he doesn’t know what he’d do if Benji passes. Because the only thing keeping him from kissing Benji senseless is the fact that Benji is his subordinate, putting him in a position of power, and he doesn’t want Benji to feel obligated to do anything he doesn’t want to. And if Benji passes, it means they’re officially on the same level.

Which means Ethan can kiss him, if he wants.

There are sudden footsteps outside his office, and Ethan jumps, wrenched from his thoughts as Benji storms in.

Hi,” Benji says, after a pause. “Um.” He holds up a knife, brand new, and a gun. “I passed.”

Ethan stands up. “You passed,” he repeats.

Benji nods. “Yeah.”

“You passed,” Ethan says, again, awe colouring his voice. “Benj, you passed.” Ethan suddenly feels stupid for doubting what he’d do if Benji passed, because it’s so blatantly obvious.

Ethan takes one, two, three steps forward, but before he can kiss Benji senseless, Benji is kissing him senseless, and Ethan presses into it and lets everything but Benji wash away.

~~~

you: leo, are the knife things accurate?

me: nope! i know nothing about knife fights all my knowledge comes from action movies and books. :D

 also, i wrote another fic using this prompt as inspiration; it’s a little different tho. lemme know if u guys wanna see it! 

[crimson-dxwn]

Love So Alike (Jango Fett x F!OC)

Summary: Jango Fett takes the occasional bounty posting to keep things interesting. This time, his ship gets hit and he crash-lands far from Kamino. Fortunately, he is found.

Rating: Teen

Warnings: mentions of blood and injury, mild lustful thoughts

This is going to be multi-part! Also many apologies for the sh*ttiest pic collage ever. I tried. HMU if you want to be on the taglist!

-------------------------------------------------------- This day has been fucked to shit, officially. His latest bounty had friends. Nothing he couldn’t handle, but Slave I, Slave I had taken more damage than he was prepared for. One of said Klatoonian friends nailed a lucky shot. Right to the damn hyperdrive, and now he was stranded in the Outer Rim, parsecs from Kamino. Jango’s next priority was picking which skughole to crash-land on and try to fix the damage. 

His bones protested the bumpy ride to the surface of the green and blue marble enlarging rapidly before him. Ralltiir, the most hospitable-looking planet in this system. It was about as populated as Concord Dawn, which wasn’t saying much. Fortunately not Republic controlled or occupied. The navicomputer helpfully told him that it was an agricultural world - great - with a few mid-size urban centers. The best he could hope for was to try and aim for one of those. The choking whine coming from the backside of his ship was leading him to believe that it wasn’t just his hyperdrive that was damaged. Smoke started to fill the cockpit, acrid and hazy, as he struggled to keep the controls on course for a settlement. His helmet could only filter so much particulate - every breath burned and his head swam. 

He entered atmo at the same time as a great boom echoed from below him, shaking the ship as his stomach lurched uncomfortably. This wasn’t going to be pretty. His hands were numb now on the controls and he struggled to keep them gripped to the joystick. The details of the world below were rapidly coming into focus as Slave I careened toward the surface. His head spun from the lack of oxygen, and he ripped his helmet off to find even more acrid air. Boba...his thoughts ran toward his son, left on Kamino in the care of the aiwha-bait while he chased bounties. He should’ve stayed with his son; he was gonna die on this planet, covered in mud, far from Kamino. There was way too much water, more than he judged when he’d briefly studied the map. If he overjudged his landing, he’d drown in the middle of nowhere with nobody to come looking.

The joysticks protested his efforts to pull the ship up parallel with the ground as trees whipped by, filling his windscreen completely. Solid ground blessedly met the flat landing platform of his ship as the g-forces nearly robbed Jango of consciousness and his head cracked against the console. Boba. He’d make it back. Just another bumpy landing, he thinks, as he stripped out of his harness, coughing black soot from his lungs. There was a little blood left on the back on his hand when he wiped his mouth. Nothing to worry about. He’d had worse. As soon as he could breathe fresh air, he’d be able to think straight and get out of this. When the edges of his vision weren’t blackening and closing in. Finally he made it down the lowered ramp. And his vision blacked out completely.

Through her binocs, Roha watched the man faceplant into the mud. His ship crashing had nearly blown both eardrums to smithereens a few minutes ago and she couldn’t resist clambering up on an outcropping of rocks to watch the ship come down, barely a klik from the homestead. He wore strange armor, from what she could judge that wasn’t soot-blackened or  covered in churned soil from the crash. She couldn’t identify his ship, but Roha guessed it wasn’t common from its unusual shape. It was unlike anything she’d ever seen in her roughly thirty years here. Truly, the man must be a skilled pilot to be able to crash-land so delicately that his ramp could still open. From the look of the back end of the starship, he’d taken some heavy damage, probably from some less-than-legal outfits. The man cut quite a figure until he fell, face-first, towards the ground. Part of her hesitated to help, worried that it might be a ploy. But the way he’d gone slack led her to believe that his need was genuine. And so she wiped her dirty hands on her skirt and hurried to the smoking hulk. She prayed she wouldn’t need the small vibroblade hidden alongside her right leg. Roha’s breathing was coming fast by the time she reached the prone figure. Not that she had much to worry about - he hadn’t moved a muscle since passing out. 

Roha crouched next to him, watching his back rise and fall shallowly for a few seconds before getting her arms underneath his torso. Flipping him on his back was going to be difficult. The man wasn’t tall, but he was thicker than she anticipated, dense with muscle and weighed down by silver fox armor. Mud squelched as she dug her boots into the mire, searching for some leverage. Finally she got him on his back. Soot streaked his face - his very handsome face. Joining the old scars lining the man’s rugged features was a new gash over his left temple, still oozing blood. Two fingers on his neck revealed a strong, regular pulse, and despite being minimally conscious he seemed to be relatively intact. 

The ship had hidden itself relatively well, nestled in a copse of trees at the bottom of the valley, though others were likely to have seen the craft. It was fortunate he’d landed where he did. Half a klik farther east and he’d be at the bottom of the ocean. He groaned a bit - that was encouraging - but didn’t open his eyes. He needed medical attention, that much was obvious. And shelter, that too. No use worrying in who’s shot him down at the moment. That was a worry for later. Now that she’d determined he was alive, the next problem was how to lug his unconscious body back to her cabin. 

She knelt in the mud as rain started to mist down on the two of them, him unconscious in the mud and her knee deep in the mire. Eventually she trudged back to the homestead in her soggy boots and harnessed her single orbak and constructed a makeshift stretcher for him to haul. The man was blessedly still breathing when she led the animal back to the crash site. His eyes were still closed and the oozing from his cut had stopped. Was she really about to bring this stranger into her home? Maybe he’d recover and be on his way. Roha checked his breathing again. Still his chest rose and fell, rapid and shallow, dark brows furrowed. 

The orbak huffs, indignant at being roped into extra work for the day. The sun had set below the mountains in the west and her breath steamed out in from of her face. There wasn’t much time before it became too cold for him to be lying out in the open, wet and covered in icy steel. She sighed and made her decision as the orbak stamped his feet, impatient for a warm stall. 

“Me too, boy,” she murmured to the beast. Using her full weight, she heaved the man onto the stretcher. The mud soaked through her skirt, so cold that it numbed her skin from her thighs all the way to her ankles. She couldn’t wait to light a crackling fire...maybe heat up some water for a bath. Her skin crawled at the thought. Darkness was falling, and the rain falling harder with it. She clicked in the back of her throat to urge the pony back home. He carried the man easily and she thanked her lucky stars she’d traded for him six months ago, though she lamented not trimming his feathered fetlocks which were - to her dismay - now caked in dark fertile mud. Another worry for tomorrow.

She got him back to the homestead. It had been hers for years since her husband had died. Modest though it was, it was enough. Though a main pitfall, she now realized, was the single bed. Not that she’d be sleeping much anyway, with an unknown man in her home. But part of this felt...right. If she left him outside like, she’d never forgive himself if he died. Damn the consequences. Still wouldn’t sleep a wink. 

Her heart breaks for her bedding when she finally rolls his mud-covered body on it with a pained groan. Though fortunately he’d gained a bit of consciousness on the trip to the cabin so she didn’t have to lug his dead weight through the threshold. She on the other hand, was absolutely exhausted. It was all she could take to strip him down to his basics to look at his abdomen and extremities. Hideous bruises covered his chest and stomach. It looked incredibly painful. The man hadn’t done much in terms of movement besides thrash his head from side to side and moan softly. He needed a medical droid, but there wasn’t one for a long ways. The best she could do was cool compresses for the bruises and keep him warm and hydrated. And pray he lived. 

---

When Jango wakes it’s because someone is touching his face. It wasn’t something that happened often. And when it did it filled him with prickly discomfort. He greatly preferred the security and anonymity of his helmet. The desert that was the back of his throat distracted him for the moment. He tried to get his bearings. No helmet, but he vaguely remembered removing it in the ship. No comforting weight of beskar on his chest. An arm reaches up to inspect exactly why he was in his basics and how he was going to escape….wherever this was. Forcing his stinging eyes open, he registered a slatted wood ceiling, the smell of woodsmoke and an undercurrent of earthy sweetness he couldn’t quite identify. 

A hand stopped his own and Jango grasped the attached forearm, hard. Time to break out. 

His abdomen strongly protested his efforts to sit up. Pain struck him, so overwhelming he almost blacked out, and he let out a pathetic noise that normally he wouldn’t be caught dead making. Half groan, half sob. He’d really done it now. Jango settled for simply turning his head and a woman came into view, forearm still trapped in his grip. When her pleading eyes met his, he dropped his hand. She was maybe the least threatening thing that his mind could conjure up at this exact moment. 

“Don’t try to sit up,” she said, “you’re badly injured.” He’d established that already, thanks.

“Where..” even talking hurt. He tried again. “--where am I?” 

“Ralltiir,” the woman replied, “in the Outer Rim. You crash landed--”

“I know that,” he interrupted. She shut up, wariness in her soft brown eyes. 

“Where is my armor?” 

She pointed to the foot of the bed she’d laid him on, and there it was, neatly stacked in a wicker basket. “And my blasters?”

“Confiscated,” she replied. She was rubbing her forearm where he’d grabbed her. Jango could see the marks from his fingers marring her skin. He didn’t make a habit of hurting women, but sentiment about which parts enemies had between their legs didn’t prevent them from killing you. 

“Your ship went down about a klik north of here. You passed out from smoke inhalation and I couldn’t just leave you facedown in the mud-” her speech was getting faster and faster; it was obvious she was scared of him. Perhaps he shouldn’t have been so gruff with her. After all, she could’ve just slotted his shebs outside Slave I. Jango reaches a hand up to his face. Quite the stubble growth. He had to have been lying here for almost a day. More than enough time for her to call any sort of scum - slavers, bounty hunters, or worse. He sighed as she babbled on, wringing her hands nervously. He decided to take pity on her and interrupt.

“-can I at least have my undersuit back?” She looked at him with a wide, embarrassed expression. Sheepishly, she went to the basket and pulled out his shirt and pants, neatly folded and suspiciously devoid of mud. 

“I’m Roha,” she offered, with a pregnant pause, obviously expecting him to return the favor. He supposed it was enough that she dragged him a klik back to what seemed to be her home and probably her own bed. 

“Jango,” he replied. Roha gave a small smile in response and started busying herself with rearranging the stacked armor and accessories in the basket. 

After his show earlier it was clear that he was going to need help sitting up. Frustration boiled deep in him - it wasn’t often he needed help. Especially from wilting female farmhands. From an upright vantage point he’d be able to get a better idea of his surroundings. Besides, being kept supine under heavy blankets was making his claustrophobia flare up. 

“Uh..” he started, “do you mind...” Maker, he hated feeling this helpless. Jango grit his teeth and tried again. “Can you help me sit up?” 

“Oh. Yes, of course.” She reached an arm out and he grasped her hand with his. It was still painful, but she was surprisingly strong. Soft brown curls fanned out from her face and there was a strand of something caught in it. Hay. A strange impulse to brush it away flashed across his mind, but he pushed it down. Roha stood back a few paces, still watching him carefully. It was good she was wary. 

Throwing off the woven blankets, he gingerly rose. Somehow his legs had survived mercifully intact, though now with his chest bare he could see the extent of the bruising that he could previously only feel with every breath. Moving was slow, and he needed to use the edge of the bed for support. Jango could feel the woman’s eyes still on him, skin prickling at the unwanted contact. It reminded him too much of his youth, stripped down to his basics, injured, helpless and trapped in an unfamiliar place. 

“Do you mind?” he snapped over his shoulder. He could practically feel her blush. It rose over her cheeks and down her neck, barely tinting her tanned skin. 

Her eyes snapped to the floorboards, looking chastened. “Sorry.” 

Jango got his bearings as he changed, taking in the little cottage. It was one spare room, likely with a fresher out the back, much like the ones he’d grown up in on Concord Dawn, except this one was made of light-colored wood. He imagined must have quite the concussion because all the sights and smells of such a humble place had begun dredging up memories he swore he’d forgotten forever. Maybe it was the osik’la jedi playing mind tricks - as they were wont to do - weaving a scene to get him to talk. Unbidden, his stomach rolled over and the room spun with it. He breathed hard through his nose, trying to steady himself. Blessedly, the nausea faded but he had to slow his movements to a crawl and focus on one point in front of him. He already felt less exposed with the flight suit on. It was something. 

“My ship?” he asked. 

“Besides the back end? Relatively unscathed,” she said, eyes still glued to the floor, “but I’m no mechanic.” 

No shock there. He made a noncommittal sound under his breath. Despite his suspicion of head trauma he did remember his hyperdrive getting shot to smithereens as well as the smoke pouring out the engine room and filling the cockpit. The question of where he was going to get parts to fix Slave I was a bit of an afterthought, as he currently could barely move. Plus, he’d been unconscious for hours and there were more pressing needs to take care of.

He cleared his throat. “Fresher?” 

“Out back,” she replied, and gestured at the heavy wooden door at the back of the homestead. “Can you walk?”

“I’ll manage.” He hoped he could keep his feet enough to manage a piss. Guess he was about to find out. 

When get returned, she was pulling something out of the ancient looking oven. It was a giant behemoth of cast iron with a chamber to feed in sticks of firewood. Whatever it was smelled...amazing. Jango was back on the bed, despite his best efforts to stay upright, and settled for simply watching her like a hawk from his perch, trying his best to ignore the ache that gnawed in his belly. 

“Why are you helping?” He’s a little shocked the phrase slipped out. But he wants to know. She should’ve just left him, called the cops or whatever passed for them in this backwater. He wasn’t used to blind kindness, to giving without some sort of transactional relationship. 

She was still fussing around the stove, conspicuously letting him have his privacy. He was more grateful than suspicious and so he fell silent, content to watch her work. Half her skirt was tucked into the thick leather belt wrapped around her waist. It was thick and worn, with a swirling tooled pattern, and much too big for her. It was fastened on its smallest setting, which happened to be a sloppily awled hole far from the rest of its counterparts.

“Is it just you all the way out here?” he asked, strength fading fast. 

Again, she eyed him warily, but replied, apparently dismissing him as a threat at present. “Yes, just me.” Without elaboration she went back to her cooking and Jango finally gave into his screaming midsection. Lying on the bed felt like such a relief. It had been a while since he’d been badly injured and he’d almost forgotten how much it took out of you. The clinking and shuffling from the other end of the room lulled him back under despite his best efforts, and he fell asleep wondering about Boba. 

———

That night Roha woke to Jango’s anguished murmuring, listening to him thrash from her nest of blankets in the corner. She’d wanted to get a little broth into him, but he’d fallen fast asleep after their brief, awkward conversation and she wasn’t keen on waking him again. He’d survive without broth for a night, at least. Now, though, he was fretful and she hoped it was a nightmare rather than his injury.  

Boba, he kept muttering, over and over. A name? His partner perhaps? A parent? A child?

Trying to get back to sleep was impossible. Roha settled back against the wall and willed him to calm. At first she thought it worked, until he started visibly shaking, large hands gripping the sheets. His muttering changed violently. He was almost yelling now, in a language she didn’t recognize - harsh and grating on her ears. She debating waking him once again. He was going to hurt himself. Tangled in the sheets, he kept shouting in the strange language. 

She was exhausted. Wary to wake him too suddenly, she kept her distance, though she knew he could barely sit and walk on his own. The moonlight spilled through the window to the bed, lighting his features in his half-sitting position, arm clutched over his midsection. 

And then he looked right at her. The eeriness of his wide open eyes struck her.

“Anade kyrayc...” 

“Jango?” she asked, her voice low and soft. She didn’t dare touch him. 

He hissed. “Ke’pare.” 

She started a little more strongly this time. “Jango.” He stilled and the absolute expression of anguish on his face broke her heart. 

“You’re safe,” she assured him. His dark eyes were glassy and stared less at her and more through her, still wandering in the land of nightmares. Though he calmed a little, breaths coming less harshly than a few minutes earlier. “Go back to sleep. You’re safe here.”

Relief weakened her knees as he paused and gingerly laid himself back down, still trembling ever so slightly. Noting his sweat-dampened head and soaked clothes, she rummaged in the storage space below the bed for a pair of Jet’s old pants and a tunic and set them at the end of the bed. She hoped they would fit, though right now she was too exhausted to care much. Curling up in her corner once again, she slept fitfully, chased by fretful dreams of her own and unable to get comfortable on the hard floor despite the cushioning of her quilts. 

Hours later, she was roused once again by the sound of someone foreign in her home. Jango was returning from the fresher, in his sleeping clothes. Deep purple circles ringed under his eyes. She felt the same - this cycle of waking the other was getting old. 

“‘Morning,” he said gruffly. 

“Good morning,” she replied. The warm orange sunrise was peeking through the window over the sink. As good a time as any to get up - the animals would be waiting to be fed. 

“I thought you might like a change of clothes,” she offered, nodding towards the tunic and pants. Jango squinted at them. “They were my husbands. If you’d like to bathe, the inlet out front is cold but clean...or I can bring water from the well for you?” 

“That won’t be necessary” 

“I’ll be at the barn, just yell if you need me.” 

He looked down, looking halfway bashful rather than stern. “Thank you,” he said finally. 

He glanced at the clothes again and Roha busied herself with the kitchen scraps for the roba, not wanting to pester him or reveal any more embarrassing details about herself. 

“There’s bread wrapped in the cloth on the counter,” she threw over her shoulder on her way out. Her own stomach was grumbling terribly, but it would have to wait. 

The barn was a ways from the house. Enough that any - unpleasant - smells wafted away in the wind, but close enough for a bearable walk when the snows fell. The chill of early spring was in the air and the breeze was clean and fresh, nipping at her cheeks and making her wish she’d thrown a shawl on over her thin top or under the quilts and furs on her bed. It was plenty warm in the house with a banked-low fire. The creamy white stones that lined the outside had been specially picked for their insulating properties. 

The chores whiled away mindlessly.  On her way to the pasture she heard the faintest creak of the front door back at the homestead. It shocked her that he’d refused her offer to heat him some bath water. Most men she knew would’ve jumped at the chance to be waited on hand and foot, all while denying that they liked it, or worse - expected it. 

Pouring the grain into the trough, she resisted the urge to look for him behind her. Though the tip of the inlet was a ways away, she still averted her eyes while she walked the path back to the barn. If he felt up to bathing, he was probably out of the woods for now. 

She heard the breath he sucked through his teeth when he realized how cold the water was and smiled. Maybe he’d changed his mind about that bath. She peeked just for a moment to the shore, just to make sure he was safe and not lying facedown on the pebble beach. The water was waist height, lapping at his lower back. His shoulders were tense, whether from cold or pain she couldn’t tell.

Roha couldn’t believe she’d mentioned Jet. She rarely spoke of him, let alone reveal to strange men staying in her home that she didn’t have a man of the house. Her mother would disapprove. What she  would also disapprove of his how long Roha has been staring at a naked and injured man’s heavily muscled back while he bathed. Heat rose to her face and for once she was glad she was alone out here. Insistent bleating of the gathered sheep in their shed finally drew her attention away from the very well-made man half-submerged in her little bay. 

She fed them their allotment of grain as usual, but something was off. Almost all her ewes were pregnant, and it was a little early for them to lamb, but the one with the cream fleece and black undercoat was nowhere to be seen. A little pit formed in her belly. It had frosted overnight, and if the ewe gave birth in the pasture, the lamb was vulnerable to hypothermia. Roha hopped the fence, leaving the rest of the flock to their breakfast and headed out into the pasture. Parts of the grass in the shade still crunch with frost under her boots. She’s lucky the ewe’s coat sticks out so much or she’d never have found her in the copse of trees at the far corner of the pasture complete with a tiny black lamb, curled up by its mother, barely moving. 

The mother was concerned, nudging the little creature with her nose, trying to get the little one to perk up. Crouching by the pair, she tries to rouse the lamb. It breathes fast, wet coat cool to the touch. She sighs. They’d need to be separated; the baby was too cold now to be kept in the shed. Roha prayed Jango was washed and dressed as she rushed back to the cottage. 

He was back in bed, dressed in Jet’s old clothes, breathing deep and even. The bath had taken a lot out of him, then. Oblivious, the tiny thing in her arms gave a weak cry. Jango opened an eye to assess and Roha busied herself making a nest out of a ratty old blanket and mixing formula she kept in the storage shed. 

When she glanced back at her guest, he was upright on the bed - a promising sign.

“What’s this, then?” he asked. 

“Little one came on an inopportune morning,” she replied, rubbing the lamb dry with the blanket and scooching herself closer to the fire for warmth. It took to the bottle well, fortunately, and drank its fill. Jango watched silently as she worked. She stroked the little whorls of wool on the lamb’s head absentmindedly. Jango didn’t look confused at why she had a farm animal indoors and she wondered if this wasn’t the first time he’d crash landed on a rural world and been taken in. She couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. 

Sitting here, alone with him in the small house brought back the events of the previous night vividly. She’d never ask what he’d dreamed about. He likely wouldn’t remember, and the last thing Roha wanted was to dredge up any painful memories he might have. And by the amount of scars littering his body, he had many. What she couldn’t help beng curious about was the name he’d called out, distinct from the rest of his speech. 

She tried to be as nonchalant as possible.

“Who’s Boba?” 

One look at his expression told her that she’d made a wrong move. 

--------------------------------------------------------

Mando’a Translations

anade kyrayc - everyone’s dead

Ke’pare - wait

[flying-nightwing]

Sparks Must Fly to Start a Fire (2/2)

Hellooooo again people. This is the second part as promised! It concludes the small serie, for a grand total of 12.5k words, which is higher than my average if I’m honest 😂 I had so much fun writing this, thanks anon! I hope it was up to your expectations! Enjoy part 2 xx

Masterlist in bio // pinned

Pairing: Jason Todd x reader

Word count: 7106

Warnings: violence, language, a bit of trauma

Day 9

“... There is no development in the case, all search parties came up with nothing. The GCPD now believes the disappearance of the young woman has a direct link to the major leak of incriminating documents that were shared to the DA’s office. The investigation, conducted by commissioner Gordon, might sound the fall of an empire of organized crime in Gotham if it goes through trial…”

“I was supposed to marry Vitto, today” You spoke up with mild boredom over yet another news story about you. You hadn’t realized time had flown this fast ever since you betrayed your family.

“Oh, oh wow” Jason hadn’t expected that. “Why would anyone do that?”

In the last days you had gotten into a semi-comfortable routine. The bickering was still very much present, but the snark had considerably deescalated. You had now tasted every snack he told you regular people ate, even those energy drinks he seemed to like to consume during long drives. You had even taken a cautious liking to the canned soups, which remained the only thing you knew how to make on a stove. Still, you didn’t escape Jason’s mockery everytime you didn’t know how to do something “simple”. You didn’t think you’d ever escape it, no matter what.

“It’s not like I had a choice” You said as a matter of fact, leaning back on the headrest of the car. “Women in my world are either trophies or mothers, depending on whether or not they’re still in their prime”

“Let me guess, you were to be Vitto’s trophy?”

“Bingo” 

“How old is he, like 50?” He snorted.

“46” You corrected. “Not that it makes any difference”

Jason gagged. “Guess you dodged a serious bullet there”

“God, marrying that manwhore plagued my nightmares for weeks” You chuckled, looking up at the roof of the car. “Hope he rots in jail once this is over”

“Arranged marriage, uh?” He said, sending you a quick uncomfortable glance. Something akin to remorse flashed very briefly across his face, but it was gone as soon as it came. You only nodded. “Sorry about that”

“Don’t be” You brushed off. “That was essentially their downfall in the end. Half of the reasons why I leaked the documents was to prove to my family I am not a chew toy to throw to the dogs. A power grab was out of the question, especially after one of my distant cousins, Alaina, tried and got gunned down. I thought if I was to get killed, I’d go down trying to be better”

Your words were followed by silence, and you realized you had said too much. You didn’t want or need his pity. You cleared your throat and looked away. Soon enough, Jason pulled into a shady looking motel and stopped the car. You glanced in disgust at the overall state of the motel, thinking about how it was definitely the worst one you had stayed in so far, even if you hadn’t stepped foot in yet. The vacancy sign was flashing against the sunset in the distance, and it gave you serious serial killer vibes. 

You grabbed your travel bag from the backseat and followed Jason in. The neons inside were barely functioning, casting a harsh glow on the lobby, if anyone could call it a lobby. The man behind the counter looked up at the sound of the little bell above the door and stood up slowly, showing off the grease stains on his yellowed wife-beater. He gave the impression of being just as crooked as his motel, especially with the creepy grin he gave the both of you, but especially to you. Jason walked up to the counter, unbothered by the general mood of the place.

“Good evening” The clerk greeted with a smoke clouded voice, glancing in between you two. “For an hour or two?”

You grimaced while Jason blinked slowly. Then, he smiled one of his smiles that looked normal, but hid something dangerous when you looked close. You had found yourself on the other end of those more times than not ever since he became your unofficial bodyguard. “Got anything for the night?”

The clerk laughed while you wanted to hit him. Hit them both, actually. 

“I like your style, kid” He wrote something on his clipboard before turning around and grabbing a key from the wall. “That’ll be 60”

Jason took out three 20$ bills from his wallet and handed them in exchange for the keys. Jason however leaned further on the counter. “How thick are the walls in there?”

“You sly dog” He chortled, and Jason joined. “Don’t worry, if your girl ain’t much of a screamer nobody will know what you be doing. Here, take that, if you want some more fun”

“Perfect” His lips curled up as he accepted the flyer handed to him. You caught a glimpse of the bright green paper, announcing some kind of escort service. “Thanks”

“Aight kid, room 141. Have fun”

You forced yourself to ignore the lusty eyes he sent your way and snatched the keys from Jason’s hand, hurrying to the room. “What was that?” You hissed under your breath.

“You’re in a place full of suspicious people” He hissed back. “You gotta act suspicious with them or they’ll single you out” 

“Did you really have to make it seem like I was a prostitute?” You said as you unlocked the door and pushed it open. You stepped in and let him in, before locking again the door behind him.

“There’s nothing wrong with being…” He trailed off as he halted his steps. His frame blocked the sight of the room for you, so you didn’t know what he was talking about. Was it dirty? Were there rodents? “Oh you must be fucking kidding me”

You finally peeked around him, to see only one bed rather than the two queens he usually asked. He had forgotten this time to ask, and the clerk had naturally insinuated you’d want to be together. How could he have not?

“At least it’s a King bed this time” You sniggered. “More space”

“I’m gonna get it changed” He turned around to go back to the reception desk.

“Wasn’t it you who said not to act suspicious?” You raised a challenging eyebrow. “If you go back there and ask for two beds, won’t that ruin all that acting you did over there?”

He spun around once again, facing you with narrowed eyes. He obviously didn’t like you using his logic against him. “Right.” He then side stepped you and went straight to the windows. He closed the blinds and proceeded to check the walls for… Whatever. He looked strange doing it. 

“And right now you’re…” You trailed off, trying to find why he was all but caressing the dirty walls. 

“Checking for cameras” He finished, looking inside a lamp. “Those motels sometimes have hidden cameras and the owners resell the tapes on porn sites”

“Oh god” You reacted, horrified. And he had the audacity to paint you off as a criminal, when those kinds of people existed. You thought you would be sick. He paused, sending you what you thought was a concerned glance--but it couldn’t be--before he returned to his examination.

“That’s why I’m making sure there’s none here” He mumbled.

You nodded, then carefully made your way to the bed. Despite the overwhelming scent of cigarettes latched onto the fabric, the sheet seemed relatively clean, at least for the general quality of the establishment. You dropped your bag in front of the dresser beside you and sat on the edge of the bed as Jason finished his inspection.

“All clear” He announced before taking out his gun from his belt and putting it on the nightstand. “You should rest, we won’t stay here too long. Also, if you can avoid the shower, I’d recommend you wait until we are somewhere else”

“I hate it here” 

“Yeah well, our disastrous stop to Target has kind of tied our hands, princess” He shrugged, like it was your fault you had been found. “So we gotta settle for even less if you don’t want a redo”

“Will you ever stop calling me that?” You glared at him.

“What, princess?” He asked rhetorically, then paused and pretended to think. “No, no I don’t think so”

“You’re insufferable” You scoffed, climbing up further on the bed.

“I wouldn’t get under the covers either” He warned as you were about to pull back the comforter, totally ignoring your comment on his general attitude. “I doubt they’re washing them real good”

You shuddered in disgust as you instead opted for bringing your knees to your chest, hoping the room wouldn’t get too cold during the night.

Day 10

You didn’t if it was your state still clouded by sleep, or the shock that made you see the scene happen in slow motion. 

Jason was waking up, sitting in the bed at a reasonable distance from you as your eyes cracked open. Still, you saw the sequence clearly. His back tensed and his head snapped to the window, then his eyes widened. He reacted in a fraction of second, grabbing his gun on the fly and diving on your side. You had barely the time to register his body colliding with yours that the first machine gun went off. You hit the ground hard, but you didn’t feel anything in the spike of adrenaline and paralyzing fear that surged through you. You could only close your eyes as bullets rained over you, and yet you weren’t even touched by the wood and cotton flying everywhere as his body caged yours in protection. His string of curse was audible above the commotion, which let you know he wasn’t gravely wounded yet. Yet. 

There was a pause in the shooting, but your eyes were still ringing so loud you didn’t hear him call your name at first. You opened your eyes, disoriented.

“Hey, hey stay with me” He hurried his words, glancing over his shoulders. “Roll under the bed, don’t come out until I come and get you, and if they try to get you, hit them with anything you find, aim for the head”

You could only nod as he helped you get under the bed, and for one you couldn’t even be bothered to notice how filthy it was under there. You were terrified for you, but also for Jason who would face those people with a handgun only. You just hoped his skills hadn’t been exaggerated, or else it would be bad news for everyone. 

There was chatter in between the gun fires, but you couldn’t decipher the voices. You counted there were at least six different tones of shout. However, judging by the familiar smugness of the exchange, you could have sworn it was Jason mocking them and not the other way around. It made you wonder exactly what kind of security he had done if he was taking the time to be smug in a one against five fight. Still, you were glad to have him on your side rather than against you.

“Hey”

You jumped and screamed at the sudden face appearing to your left, but let out a breath of relief when you saw it was Jason. He helped you out from under the bed, his glance shifty in between the door and windows. The room was a mess, he was covered in blood you doubted was his, and he was still on guards.

“So, we need to leave now” He said, already picking up his bag and yours. You noticed a second gun now strapped on his thigh and various new weapons in a utility belt. Where he got that was a mystery, but you didn’t question it. He gently pressed you along the bodies dropped at the threshold of the room and in the hallway until you reached the reception desk. You counted seven bodies. The same creepy clerk was cowering behind his desk, a darker stain on the crotch of his pants. Jason gave him an overall look and sighed, shaking his head. Still, he paused in front of him and dropped the bags.

“You son of a bitch” He chuckled lowly, menacingly. “You sold us out, didn’t you?”

He whined in response, confirming Jason’s suspicion.

“How much did you cash on the tip? 3k? 4k?” He taunted further, tsking in disapproval. “Can’t trust anyone these days”

“Please, I needed the money--”

Jason shot two bullets in his head. “Don’t care”

He turned on his heels and grabbed the bags again, bringing you along as gently as he could. You went outside, but he gestured for you to wait at a good distance from the car. He went over and inspected it, taking two devices off from two different places. Bombs, you figured. He threw the first one through the windows of the reception, then the other, he shot while in the air. An explosion went off, shaking your stance on the ground as the motel’s central area went up in flames. 

“Oops, gas leak” He said blandly. “Come on, let’s get out of here”

You climbed in the passenger seat, clutching your now all dusted up bag for support. You needed to hold onto something while you came to terms with the repeated attempts on your life in the last fifteen minutes. Jason drove off, leaving the smoking building off to burn. 

“Sorry you had to see that back in the lobby” He spoke when you were far enough.

“It’s fine” You shook your head. “He deserved it”

He blinked, a tiny bit stunned. “Hey are you okay?”

“Should I not be?” It came out weaker than intended. “I’m way in over my head with this”

“No, no, you did the right thing” He tried to reassure you, or that’s what you thought he was trying to do. Either way, it went right over your mental downward spiralling.

“I should have stayed in my lane” You kept mumbling, flexing your fingers on your bag. “I’d still be doing my thing, away from literal murder attempts in crappy motel rooms”

“Hey hey hey” He lifted a hand up. “May I remind you that you’d be married to Vitto fucking Maroni right now if you didn’t go rogue? That thought alone should give you relief”

You let out an uncontrolled laugh. What has your life become?

“Truth is I don’t know what I’m doing” You admitted, your voice cracking. “All I’ve achieved it to piss everyone off”

“Yeah you did piss everyone off, but so do I on a daily basis” He replied, making your frown in confusion. “Sometimes pissing everyone else is the only way to get things going, y’know?”

You blinked a couple of times. “I literally don’t”

He opened his mouth to reply, then closed it immediately. He then took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. “All I’m saying is, doing the right thing is an ugly job. It’s hard and messy and fucks with you, but it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try and do it anyway. I know this is all new for you, and this is a rather harsh welcome party, but you gotta fight through it”

You nodded, casting your eyes on him at last. His skin was reddened by the drying blood on his face and hair, and his clothes were dirty and torn. Amidst the cooling blood, you noticed a steady flow of brighter red coming off a hole in the sleeve of his t-shirt, widening the already big stain around it. 

“You’re bleeding”

He looked down at his side, unfazed. “Oh right, a bullet got me on the initial wave”

“We need to get it out and close the wound” Your eyes found his for a brief second, before his glance returned to the road.

“It can wait” He downplayed it, probably by a force of habit. 

“It looks like it’s bleeding a lot” You insisted.

“I’ll be fine--”

“It’s my fault you’re hurt” You interrupted him. You felt like you had at least to do something for him, especially since he just saved your life twice. Besides, you needed to focus on something else than what had just gone down. “Let me help”

He took a deep breath, then gave a little nod. He pulled over at the next gas station and parked the car, then went to his trunk, picking his first aid kit while you went to ask for the bathroom key. You joined him at the car and went to find the bathroom in the back of the building, locking the door behind you for privacy. You stood beside him as he rummaged through it, handing you a pair of pliers and disinfecting gauzes. You waited for him to take off his jacket, laying your supplies on the counter, then carefully rolled the sleeve of his t-shirt. You grabbed a clean gauze to stop the bleeding, gently pressing on the wound.

“Have you done this before?”

You didn’t see his question come, but you answered nonetheless. “Yes, a few times” You said. “On my older brothers. That’s something we learn, just in case we are the ones to patch up our husbands”

“Is this really how you were treated?” He asked, his voice surprisingly soft compared to what you had gotten so far. “Like a service wife in training?”

“Pretty much” You nodded with a weak scoff. You carefully checked the wound, and the bleeding had almost stopped. You grabbed the alcohol gauze and tore the pack open. “There isn’t much choice but to obey”

He didn’t even flinch when you cleaned the wound. “When I pulled the gun on you the first day we met, you said it wasn’t the first time somebody did that to you” He began, recalling the events from ten days ago. “What happened the other times?”

You put the bloodied gauzes aside and grabbed the pliers, disinfecting them with a smaller alcohol wipe before going for the bullet. “Would you believe me if I said something along the lines of wildly opposing my union to the Maroni family?” 

His lips curled up slightly, but his teeth were clenched as you tried to grab the bullet well lodged in his flesh. You managed to get a good grip on it and slowly pulled it out. You immediately covered the wound again with clean gauze and dropped the bullet in the trash pile. 

“Bullet’s intact, you should be fine” You said, holding the gauze with one hand and searching for a needle and a stitching thread with the other. 

“How old were you when it happened?” 

You paused, staring at his arm. How old were you back then, when your father announced you’d be part of a two-way deal with the Maroni family? Not very old, that was for sure. You pulled the gauze away and sanitized the needle, then passed the thread in the loop. “17, I think”

“You were just a child” It came out more like a statement than a question. You shrugged before beginning the stitches. He still wasn’t flinching as the needle came in and out of his skin,making it easier for you to do a clean job. You finally tied the thread and cut it with the scissors he handed you. 

“I’m sorry I pulled you into this mess” You apologized as you wrapped the wound with yet some other clean gauze and bandaged it. “I… I didn’t plan this through at all. I felt the doors close on me and I acted without even thinking of the real consequences. I thought I would be strong enough to go with it, turns out I’m not”

You had been all bark and no bite, you could see that now. You came in strong, acting like nothing could get to you, like the threat was just an imaginary bound to keep you in place. You made a bold move to cross it, and now you could clearly see how dangerous the waters you were threading in actually were. It wasn’t child’s play anymore, it was real, and you caved under the pressure on your first real trial.  

He turned around as he pulled his sleeve down, facing you. He was in your space, but it didn’t feel like all the other times. His presence wasn’t threatening. “You don't have to apologize” There was something genuine in his eyes. “And to pull off what you did needs strength, even if you don’t realize it yet. Your reaction to almost being killed doesn’t change that fact”

“It certainly doesn’t feel that way”

“Trust me, princess” His little teasing smile returned. “Someone who can hold her own against me like you did is not weak”

“I was just mean” You blinked in surprise, letting out a small chuckle. “I think that’s different”

“See, still arguing” His smile widened. You had known him for ten days, but you had gotten used to him being a certain way. This light and sincere attitude he had now was, to say the least, unusual for you. When he wasn’t constantly sneering, you noticed his features better. His blue eyes carried a kind spark, the type you found in a natural caretaker. The harsh angles of his jaw and cheekbones shaped a handsome face, decorated by little silver scars blending with his freckles. He was like a fallen angel shining through a broken halo, dangerous and protective, but only if you took the time to look past the burned wings. The unflattering white light of the bathroom made him look worn out, but it didn’t change anything to the raw beauty of his face. His bloody knuckles came in soft contact with your cheek, like a feather gliding on a cloud in the sky. His eyes never left yours, and even if they did, you felt like you’d follow them whichever direction they went. 

He was tall, considerably so. He hovered over you like a safety blanket, your own shield from the dangers stalking you outside the door. At that moment, you had trouble understanding how his proximity had once filled you with so much unease you felt like hiding away, because all you could feel now was an all consuming calm. There was however a pulse that was alive, one that was begging you to get closer. He seemed to have felt it too; his movement was slow, letting you more than enough time to back off. As his lips slowly got closer to yours, you know you didn’t want to move away. You filled the distance separating you from him and met him there in a gentle kiss to test the water first. 

It didn’t take long for you to lose control. All the emotion of the last days that had bottled up were let to run wild in between you two like an electric current, surrendering your every sense to him. Your hands went to the back of his neck for support, because god knew you needed it. His arms sneaked behind your back as he pushed further into you, quickening the pace of the kiss and clouding your mind. Tongues battled in a war that was already won, knowing in one way or another he’d be the victor. You could feel all the tension, all the frustration, all the anger and all the guilt coming in strong before burning like dry wood in a bonfire. Were there any versions of this that didn’t end where you were? It seemed impossible. 

You didn’t want to open your eyes just yet when he pulled away, reluctant to even let go. He captured your lips in a couple of kisses before fully letting you catch your breath.

“Well” His voice was barely over a whisper over the panting. “That might be one way to settle an argument”

“Then I might pick more arguments” Your lips lifted in a small grin.

“And I might not object to that” His eyes were bright with amusement. “Besides, I might have gotten around to like that smart mouth of yours”

“Oh, have you now?”

“Might” He corrected.

“Sure” For the first time in what felt like forever, you actually smiled. You slowly retracted your arms from his neck, letting him stand straight again. 

“Come on, let’s get out of here and put as much distance as we can from this motel” He said, but it lacked the patronizing tone it once contained. It was even like he didn’t actually want to leave just yet, but had to, or both of your safety. You shared the sentiment.

You packed the first aid kit and burned the bloody gauzes in the sink, then killed the fire and returned the key to the counter. You drove away shortly after, confident things might just be alright this time.

Day 16

You had circled back to the first place you had stayed in, the little cabin so far in the woods you were almost sure nobody would find you, or at least not yet. 

Jason had told you he had installed security devices on the dirt road to make sure he was aware of anybody driving up, as well as the traps he had set in the woods. Once again, it reinforced your idea that his job experience might not have been a traditional one. You frankly didn’t mind, as you were in no position to judge a potential criminal past. Besides, you believed anything he did couldn’t be worse than what your family or the Maronis did on a daily basis. 

You had woken up when the sun was already high in the sky, and to your surprise Jason had still been there, on his back and staring at the ceiling. When you had turned around on your side, he had mimicked you to come face to face with you, not talking at all. His wound on his arm had stopped bleeding during the night, for which you were thankful for. It eased your guilt to see it was healing well. You had stayed there for what seemed like hours, but it was comfortable. 

“I meant to ask,” He began, his voice soft and husky from the morning. “Why did you go to Bruce with the leak?”

You blinked slowly, tilting your head slightly to the side. “Well, I couldn’t go to the police, it was out of the question. I couldn’t trust any of them to pursuit this case”

“But what made you trust Bruce in particular?”

“I… I like to listen when people talk. Before, it gave me the impression I was part of the family business and not just an accessory, and that way I got to hear bits and parts of the discussions conducted behind closed doors” You began. “More times than not I would hear how Wayne Enterprises projects got in the way of their plans, and how Bruce Wayne would always do something to undermine them legally. So after I stole the intel, there was really one way I was certain would yield results, one person I was certain would have all the interests in the world to see this trial happen”

“That’s…” He trailed off, an impressed expression on his face. “That’s surprisingly smart”

“Surprisingly?” You raised an eyebrow.

“For someone who had no idea how to use a can opener, that is” 

You slapped his chest as he let out a laugh; he was so proud of his joke. “Hey, I learned!”

“I know, I know” He chuckled, reaching his hand and brushing a rogue hair strand away from your face. You had noticed as the days passed that he seemed to favor the little touches and the unspoken rather than obvious and obnoxious displays. You knew he was more of the quiet type when he wasn’t arguing with you, always working in his corner and doing his stuff. It hadn’t really changed ever since the gas station moment, but this time he would steal little glances, brush his hand against yours when he’d change gears in the car, or make sure he took out a bowl for you as well when you made your canned soup. “You adapted better than I thought you would, considering the entire lifestyle change you had to go through in the last two weeks”

“I didn’t have much choice, did I?” You grinned. 

“Nope, not at all, princess” He pushed himself on his elbows and leaned down to kiss you. You smiled onto his lips, welcoming the slow movements of him against you. However, you gently pushed him back after a moment, knowing if he had it his way, you’d stay there for hours. 

“Jason” You said his name when he was visibly trying to distract you again with butterfly kisses on your jaw, only pausing to give you wide, innocent eyes. Insufferable. “I have to go take a shower”

“I’ll come with” He shrugged.

“What?”

“Yeah” He nodded. “Listen. You hired me to protect you, so that’s what I’m going to do”

“From what?” You laughed at his serious tone.

“Water’s cold”

“So NOW you want to protect me from the cold water?” You raised an eyebrow. “That surely wasn’t the discourse you held two weeks ago”

“People change, princess” He sighed exaggeratedly before getting up and walking to your side of the bed. “Come on, you said it yourself, you’ve got a shower to take”

You rolled your eyes, but nonetheless accepted the hand he held out for you. You went to the bathroom and undressed, then managed to get into the relatively small shower, your back to Jason. He was so tall he actually shielded you from the water from the showerhead when he turned the shower on, getting all the burning cold on his back instead. 

“See?” He chuckled. “No cold water”

“But how will I wash myself if the water doesn’t get to me?” You asked, looking at him over your shoulder. He stared blankly at you, like he didn’t think of that.

“Let me worry about it” He dismissed, making you laugh. 

“Alright, alright”

He began slowly rubbing your skin with his wet hands, spreading water indirectly. His fingertips were still cold, but you knew for a fact it was slightly better than the direct flow from the tap. Goosebumps erupted all over your arms and back, both from the sudden change of temperature and his touch. You closed your eyes, enjoying the contrast in between the water and his still warm chest. He wet your hair, combing it with his hands, before he put the shampoo in and made it lather. Immediately, you recognized the smell.

“Is this your shampoo?” You asked, your eyes opening.

“Mhh”

“I thought you didn’t like when people used your stuff” 

“Technically, I’m using it”

“Still!” You replied. “You practically threatened me last time I dared wear your shampoo”

“Truth is” He leaned in, his lips almost pressed against your ear. “It kinda drove me hog fucking wild to have you prancing around smelling like me”

Your eyes widened and the back of your neck heated enough for you to warm the water dripping down your back. You gulped, unable to answer that as it came as a shock for you that you have had another effect on him aside from pissing him off. He chuckled at your lack of comeback, his hot breath fanning your jaw. He slowly rinsed the soap out of your hair, then began washing your skin. His hands massaged your muscles as they went, making you sigh in contentment. At this point, you had backed so much into him you were just as much subject to the direct contact of the water as him, but you didn’t care. 

He trailed small kisses from behind your ears down to your shoulder before pausing there, as if he was hesitant. He lifted his head slightly, and you could see his stare right on you from your peripheral vision. 

“I need to tell you something”

You were surprised by the sudden seriousness of his words, but you tilted your head to show him you were listening.

“I’m the Red Hood”

You blinked slowly, registering his words. Well, that certainly explained things. You even wondered how you didn’t see it sooner, but now that he mentioned it, it had been rather obvious. “... Congratulations?”

You could feel he wasn’t expecting this reaction. “That’s… That’s all?” He stuttered. “You’re okay with that?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You turned your head to look at him properly. “You saved my life so many times, I am not about to complain how you did it”

“But I did a lot of bad too,” He argued. “Some things that might change your opinion”

“You’re seriously asking me, who comes from a crime family, if I’m okay with you doing crimes?” You deadpanned. His face changed, as if he was reevaluating his entire argument.

“When you put it like this…” He trailed off, nodding. You could however see the relief in his eyes at your acceptance of his double identity. Especially with the kind of job he was doing here with you, you could only imagine how blurred the line in between the two personas must have been at times. 

“Why did you tell me?” It was a gentle question, full of wonder as to what pushed him to reveal to you such an important, personal detail about himself. Your hand sneaked up and covered his still on your forearm.

“I thought you should know” He muttered back, his voice barely rising over the noise of the water hitting the shower’s floor. “You never asked what I did before, or how I took care of seven hired guns at the motel. I wasn’t sure if you just avoided it, or…”

“Don’t worry” You interrupted him softly. “Moral compasses are no issues with me”

His lips reached yours under a freezing rain, your bodies numb to anything but each other.

Day 25

A few days ago Jason received a call from Bruce.

The arrests had been made and the trial date had been set. As you had predicted, they tried to keep the relative information about it under wraps so you wouldn’t be aware it was happening. But fortunately, with Bruce’s quiet oversight of the process, he had managed to relay the details on time. You hadn’t been very far from Gotham when the news dropped, but you were still thankful for the heads up. It had given you time to plan your safe return into the boundaries of the city, staying hidden in another one of Jason’s safehouses until the day came for you to be a witness in the trial.

It was now in progress, it had just started some minutes ago. You were staying in an adjacent room that was guarded by people under Bruce’s paycheck, with Jason laying on a couch behind you, looking at his phone while you were getting ready. You were thankful that you had brought a second designer outfit with you, because you weren’t sure your gray t-shirt from Target with the oversized men’s pants you inherited on your first day with Jason would have looked very professional or credible. You did your makeup carefully with the basic products you had, then took a look at yourself in the mirror. You smothered the creases in your blouse and made sure the belt wasn’t twisted in the loops of your slacks, and sighed. 

Jason stood up from the couch and walked to you, stopping behind you and sneaking an arm around your waist. He snuggled his nose in the crook of your neck and placed a small kiss there. “Am I an asshole for thinking you look better in a 30 bucks outfit?”

You laughed despite your nervous state. He was trying to distract you and you welcomed it. “Not more than usual, no”

He gasped at your rebuttal, but you could see the amusement in his eyes. “Is that what you really think of me?” He asked. “I’m hurt”

“Aw, come here” You pouted, turning your chin over your shoulder. You raised your arm to rest your hand on his cheek and gently pulled him down into a kiss. Your eyes fluttered close when his lips met yours, letting your relish in his comforting presence. You felt your heartbeat slow down as you sighed against his lips, wishing to remain there with him for another hour or so. Alas, the moment was broken shortly after when the door opened. 

“They will soon be--oh” 

You pulled back from the kiss, but Jason didn’t move away at the sound of Bruce’s voice behind you. You could feel he was annoyed at his adoptive father ruining the mood, but at least he wasn’t pissed like you had seen he could be on day one. That in itself was a relief. 

“Am I interrupting something?”

“No, not at all” Jason replied in a clearly sarcastic tone. You stifled back a laugh at the grimace he was doing to mock Bruce. “Perfect timing as usual”

Bruce didn’t answer that. He only closed the door behind him and headed for the desk, leaning back on it. Jason followed his movements in the mirror like a hawk. 

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you aren’t at each other’s throat anymore” He began, a cryptic smile on his lips. “But I hadn’t expected… Whatever this is”

It was Jason’s turn to sigh as he reluctantly parted away from you. He didn’t go far, however. He stayed by your side like another threat on your life could pop up at any moment. “Shocker”

“As I was saying” Bruce reprised, ignoring Jason’s side comment. “They will call you to the stand soon. I just wanted to check up on you and see if you had any questions or concerns before you go out”

“How solid is the case built?” You asked.

“It should hold” He nodded. “From what I’ve seen, it’s solid in front of a jury. Your testimony will have to be conclusive if we want to catch some Maroni members in the lot, but I’m confident you’ll be stellar”

You gave him a small smile. You knew your father would be there, glaring at you like you were the devil itself, but you repeated to yourself you could go through this. There was no way he would be as intimidating as Jason in the first few days, and you came out on the other side unscathered. He couldn’t hurt you anymore, and soon he would reap what he sowed. 

“How secure will the witness booth be?” It was Jason who spoke this time, his eyes straight on Bruce like he was challenging him to give an answer that wouldn’t be good enough.

“The two guards in front of this room will accompany her in the courtroom” Bruce replied calmly. “There will also be one more guarding the door, and I supposed you won’t be far as well”

He only hummed in answer, but he seemed satisfied with this plan. Bruce checked his watch and stood up, hands in his pocket. 

“It’s time” 

You nodded, exhaling a shaky breath. You exited the room with Jason at your side and the guards behind you. You walked down a few hallways before you stopped in front of the witness booth door. You forced yourself to take deep breaths and visualize the end result. You could do this, you could do this.

“Keep your head high, stay confident” Jason muttered in your ear as the door opened in front of you. “You got this, princess”

With his last words of encouragement, you were brought into the courtroom.

Day 101

“... The sentence of the twelve convicted has dropped this morning on the order of judge Monroe, a little less than three months after the devastating trial that landed a blow on organized crime in Gotham. The twelve men will each serve a sentence ranging from twenty to forty years in a maximum security facility, on counts of attempted murders, first degree homicide, money laundering, drug trafficking and tax fraud. Amongst the convicted is Vitto Maroni, a notable figure in Gotham’s public life…”

You jumped when a loud pop dragged your attention away from the TV. 

Jason was standing there with a proud grin, pouring foaming sparkling grape juice in two champagne flutes. You laughed as he handed you one, plopping next to you on the couch and clinking his glass on yours.

“Cheers to a victory,” He declared. “that wouldn’t have been possible without you”

“Don’t flatter me too much, give yourself some credit” You matched his grin. “You’re at least 20% responsible for this”

“Ah yes, my 20% contribution” He nodded thoughtfully. “Eighteen percent bullets shot, two percent bullets received I recall”

You laughed with him, drinking the fizzy beverage. He lifted his arm, and you crawled under it to snuggle on his side, careful not to spill anything. It had become a habit for you to end up one way or another in his arms, even after the trial ended. He had offered you to move in with him shortly after, when you had tried to give him the ten thousand dollars you had promised him after the trial. Not only had he refused to even look at it, but he gave you back the 5k you had already given him beforehand. He had insisted for you to keep it and invest in whatever you wanted to turn your life around like you wished. 

He had been excited for you when you announced you would enroll in law school, saying your argumentative side would definitely come handy as an attorney.

“I’m proud of you” 

You looked up at him to see a fond glint in his eyes, one that made your heart melt. For all of his rough edges, he was certainly very soft inside. All he wanted was for you to be safe and happy, and you couldn’t ask for someone better to start your new life with. You snuggled further into him as he kissed the top of your head and tightened his arm around you.

“Thank you for being there for me” You mumbled through his clothes. “It means a lot”

“I couldn’t walk away from you even if I wanted to, princess” He smiled against your hair. “You are so stuck with me”

“Good thing I’m not going anywhere, then”

You changed the channel to a movie and spent the rest of the night cuddling on the couch, you wearing his t-shirt and shampoo and him holding you like a treasure. 

[xwing-baby]

Freedom (Mandalorian X Reader

Characters: The Mandalorian (Din Djarin), The Child, Reader, OC Vinca Dara

Warnings: Mentions of sexual abuse, canon level violence

Word Count: 5691 

Synopsis: Y/N is a princess from a planet in the inner rim. Successfully escaping her fate as a Imperial wife, she unfortunately becomes a target for the Mandalorian. 

A/N: WOW I look pretty good for a dead bitch! I’m back after a two year writing hiatus, with a fic nobody asked for. This is my blog I’ll do what I want. I noticed that there’s not much Mandalorian stuff here, and the only stuff is all smutty and romantic. No more. Strictly professional relationships here. Basically it’s what I would write if I got to be a writer on the show. ENJOY 

Tagged: @tortles​ @inked-poet​ @dartheldur

My home planet, in the core of the galaxy, was rich and prosperous. I grew up happily oblivious to any struggle that surrounded me outside the palace walls. I grew up with two older brothers, both jostling for the throne from the age of ten. My mother died in childbirth with me, so my father ruled alone. I had no other family, as I would later learn they had all been murdered by my father and his men to ensure his unopposed ascension to power. 

It wasn’t until I was nearly sixteen years old that I learnt about what my father had done and what was really going on behind the palace walls. The only time I’d ever been allowed out of the palace grounds until that point was for public events, I would stand and wave and smile at the people who came to see us while my father gave a speech about peace and prosperity. However, on my sixteenth birthday I met a boy named Han. Han helped me escape for that one night, showed me around the surrounding city, and my life changed forever. 

A year later, I made my first escape attempt. I didn’t get very far beyond that city perimeter before I was dragged back by the royal guards. I tried again, getting to the next town before again being captured and sent back to my father. 

On my eighteenth birthday, I decided I would try once more. This time I had enlisted Han’s help, now a smuggler, to get me off the planet. I crept out in the depths of night, managed to find the ship and I was gone. That was until the captain of the ship found out who I was, held me hostage and shot me in the arm for trying to escape him and the planet. As it turned out the captain was a great supporter of my father and returned me, with a small fee for the favour of course. 

For the next year, my father kept me under close supervision. But unlike my father, I had sympathy and empathy. I managed to make friends with my supervisor, a old lady named Ellyn. She taught me a lot about what was really going on outside the capitol. The famines and the abuse from the royal guards to the local people. She also told me of the growing concern within the palace of my father’s changing allegiance from the New Republic. These concerns only grew when Storm Troopers were spotted on the outskirts of the city. 

Then I got the news. My father was intending to marry me off to Vinca Dara, the son of an Imperial officer, to aid the new Empire. I was horrified. My uncle had told me stories of the Old Empire when I was little, the pain it brought into the galaxy. The thought of having to be a part of anything like that made me sick. I had to run away, for good this time.

With Ellyn’s help, I managed to barter a ship and escape the planet without anyone realising. I reached the outer rim before anyone knew. By the time anyone had started to look for me I had landed on a new planet. 

And that brought me here. A small, dirty back street bar in the centre of the city. The outer rim was not somewhere good for a princess to be, so to avoid the risk of anyone recognising me, I cut my hair, changed my name and hid. 

Of course, a few bounty hunter’s had made their way to me. But I seemingly had luck on my side because they either gave up or I fought them off before they could capture me. The last attempt was several months ago now, I was comfortable and certain that my father had just given up. 

The bar was busy, as always. Full of criminals and outcasts from the inner rim searching the wild space to something to do, or to give them purpose again. I had to learn fast who and who not to joke with. I learnt a lot more about the galaxy in the last three months of being in this cantina than I had in my life so far.

“Hey! No droids!” I called, not even lifting my head from the sink as I spotted a glint of metal in the corner of my mind.

“That’s not a droid, you idiot,” My coworker, Tann, jabbed me in the ribs, “That’s a mandalorian!” He hissed. “Sorry, she’s new!” He apologised. The Mandalorian didn’t respond.

“New to the galaxy,” One of the creatures at the bar slurred into his drink.

“Alright Rex calm down,” I said, a little embarrassed. “I don’t know they were real,” I said quietly as we all watched the man sit down at an empty table on the other side of the bar. Rex laughed and shook his head.

“You really crawled out from under a rock or something?” 

“Just go do your job, please,” Tann sighed.

I nodded and confidently walked over to the bounty hunter. 

“What can I get you?” 

“I’m trying to find Asker,” The Mandalorian said, looking around behind me. Asker was a regular, a troublemaker and a renowned criminal, but he was paid his bill so the owners of the bar never minded too much. I wondered why the Mandalorian was looking for him for a moment before answering. 

“He left a little while ago,” I replied, “But I imagine he won’t have gone far, maybe try the hostel up the street. Can I get you anything else?” 

“No, thank you,” The Mandalorian shook his head and stood up to leave. 

“Mando!” The pot bellied Asker bellowed through the bar, announcing his presence before he waddled inside. For such a small creature he certainly knew how to make himself known. Asker was just over four feet tall, with grey-ish skin. His large eyes took most of his face that wasn’t covered by a whiley red beard. For someone so small, he was incredibly strong and quick on a trigger, the blast marks that covered the walls of the bar were testament to that. 

The Mandalorian and Asker walked together to the darker back of the bar, specifically reserved for Asker's shady business. Like I said, the owners didn’t really care as long as he paid the bills. 

“You know Mando, it’s been for too long! I missed you,” Asker cried. 

“You didn’t,” 

“No, not really,” Asker barked a laugh, “but I did miss your talent. These new hands they’ve got at the Guild? Awful! Can barely even shoot straight! I’ve been trying to get this quarry off my hands for weeks! All of the have been unsuccessful, so I thought it’s high time I call my lovely friend Mando and get some real professional on the job,” 

“I don’t work for you,” 

“Not even for half a million credits?” 

“Excuse me, gentlemen,can I get you anything?” 

“The usual, thanks darling. My metal friend here can’t drink so he’s all good,” 

“Coming right up,” 

I stepped back to the bar, and they talked a lot quieter from then. I poured the drink and walked back over, back in earshot of the conversation.

“Kids a royal runaway,” Asker said quietly. “Her father is a pretty big deal out in the Mirrin Sector. Last I heard, she’s here in hiding,” 

“Any name?” 

“Y/n L/n,” 

I put the drinks down carefully, trying not let either of the men see how much my hands were shaking. My heart was racing against my chest and I scurried away before I could hear anything else. I leant against the bar and took some deep breaths and tried to calm down. It was fine, I’d fought off the last guys I could do it again. It’s not like mandalorian are the best bounty hunters in the known universe, no. Oh stars! 

“I’m going out for a minute,” I said quickly, already walking out the back door before he could even say yes. I pulled the apron off from around my waist, shoving it into a cargo box before stepping into the bright light outside. 

I squinted and let my eyes adjust to the bright light. Looking back inside, the Mandalorian had not noticed me leave. I was safe for now. I walked through the city's crowded streets, back to where I was staying to come up with a plan. 

I smiled to myself, I’d gotten away with it once again! But four times was too many to be nearly captured by bounty hunters. It was no use anymore just moving to the city, I had to get off the planet. 

The port was quiet, as it would be late in the afternoon. Everyone was either eating or sleeping while the sun started to cool down. I tried the first few stations but each door was locked, the next was empty and the one after it was covered in druids working on the rusted shell. Then, bay 8. The door was open, there were no druids around and the ship looked in  pretty good condition. It was old, pre empire but it looked steady. I quickly checked behind me, that no one had seen me, then went inside, pushing the large gate shut behind me. I had found my ticket out of here. 

My uncle had taught me to fly when I was very little. He unfortunately was murdered by my father before I turned 12 but I cherished the memories I had with him and was extremely grateful for the skills he had passed on now. The first time I ran away I ended on a workers ship and learnt very quickly that the price to pay to get onto the ships and out alive was far too high. The blast scar up my right arm was a reminder of that. Being able to steal a ship and fly it on my own was a major boost. Unfortunately I had been caught before I had managed to leave a planet before. Now was my chance. 

I ran around the ship first, checking it out and making sure there was no one hiding on it. Now, to get inside... 

Before I could even step closer to it, the cargo load hissed and pulled open. I pulled out my blaster and aimed it at the door. I stepped onto the metal once it hit the sand, and barely had the other in step when I saw who had opened it. 

The Mandalorian. 

Shit. 

I kept my blaster raised, and we both stared at each other down for a few moments. 

“You’re Y/n L/n?” He asked carefully. 

“Are you going to kill me if I am?” I retorted. “Cus you’re not the first Asker has sent after me and I know my father wants me alive there’s no way you’re gunna kill me if you want the credits,” 

“Lower your weapon,” He commanded. I refused.

I kept it steadfast. I could do a standoff, all day. I was not going back home. The mandalorian sighed and shot once, barely missing my head, as a warning. I didn’t flinch. 

“This isn’t my first rodeo, Tin Man. Asker must have said I don’t come easy,” I jeered, taunting him. He couldn’t kill me! Wouldn’t risk half a million credits on that. The mandalorian stepped forward, and I took two steps back. “I just want to get off this planet, I’ll pay you. More than you’ll 

get for bringing me in,” 

Before I could say anymore, the Mandlorian fired a dart into my chest. I looked down at it for a moment, then back at him then fell to the ground. Black. 

--

I came too sometime later, handcuffed to the side of the Mandalorian’s ship. My hands and feet here tied. It was quiet. Looking around me, I was in the hold. A small ladder disappeared above me to the rest of the ship. I had no idea where we were, had he taken my request? Or was I on my way back to the hell hole that is my home planet. 

I had to find some way out. Someway to get myself free. I tried to move to reach a tool box so cruelly just out of my reach, but it was no use. Then I heard a little squeal from behind a box. I turned to see where it was coming from but there was nothing. Again, another squeal and a giggle? Was it a rat? I wouldn’t be surprised if there were rats aboard, the place hadn’t been cleaned in forever. But rats don’t giggle, no matter where they’re from. 

Suddenly, a tiny green creature popped up from behind the box. It peered at me for a moment, then hid again. It was so cute! 

“Hey little buddy,” I said quietly, “I won’t hurt you,” The creature slowly stepped out and babbled something at me. I didn’t understand what it said, even if it was speaking any proper language. “Where’d you come from buddy? He got you trapped here too?” The baby giggled and waddled over to me. I smiled and curled my legs round underneath me to let it get a bit closer. I didn’t see any danger in a creature so small. “Why does Mandalorian have a little baby? You’re not his kid are you?”

“Hey! Get away from her,” The Mandalorian had appeared in the hold while I was focused on the baby. The baby babbled and toddled back happily to the Mandalorian. 

“What is that?” 

“Nothing,” 

“It’s not nothing, it’s a baby,” Suddenly I remembered I had seen a drawing of a creature like that one before. My uncle told me about it, a Jedi master or something. “Do you know what it is? My uncle showed me a picture of one of those once, it was a jedi! I bet it can do weird stuff, right? Where did you get it?” 

The Mandalorian ignore my questions and picked up the creature, walked across to the other side of the hold and put it away in a large cupboard. Cruel. I became spiteful. 

“Fine, ignore me then. I’ll just report you to the Guild when I get back home. Tell them you have that thing! People would pay good money for information on a Mandalorian gone rogue! And to think Mandalorian and Jedi were enemies for years, didn’t they murder your kind to near extinction? Seems weird you’ve got one in a box as a pet,” 

“It’s not a Jedi, and you won’t tell anyone. If I find you have, I will kill you, on sight,” 

“You’ll be doing me a favour,” I spat. 

I could tell he was angry, the way his hand waved over his blaster for just a second. I should have been scared of him, deep down I was. But the fate that awaited me at home was worse than being killed by this bounty hunter. I knew we can’t be far now. I didn’t have much time left to convince the Mandalorian not to send me back to my father. If it came down to it I really would rather die. 

The Mandalorian disappeared up the ladder once more, satisfied that I wasn’t going to cause anymore fuss right now. Before I could even call after him to try and make amends and get him to actually help me, the hatch slammed shut and it was too late. 

---

A few hours later, I had dozed off but was harshly awoke by the Mandalorian shaking my shoulders. 

“We’re here,” He stated, pulling me up by the shoulder. I shrugged him off, and stood up on my own. My feet had been untied already, I rolled my ankles and sighed as my body clicked. The bounty hunter wasn’t having it, grabbed my arm harshly and dragged me down the ramp to the ground. “Come on,” 

The site of my home planet made me sick. It was happening. For months I had managed to be unknown, successfully getting away from this place. But I was now being dragged back, by a Mandalorian none the less, to be dragged through my city like a criminal. 

The Child reappeared as we stepped off the ship, babbling quickly and waddling as fast as it could. The Mandalorian grumbled unintelligibly and dragged me back up, collected the child and locked it away, pulled me back down to the soil of the planet. I could hear the creature complain from its little box and wondered if it was trying to help me. Whatever it wanted, the Mandalorian ignored it, closed the cargo door and we walked into the city gates to my family's palace. 

The site of the grand building made me sick. When I was younger I didn’t know of anything different, I didn’t know of the suffering of the people beyond the city walls. The people who worked tirelessly everyday on the lush fields only to be paid single credits for the hard labour, and all the food going to my family and court. I never knew of the suffering and poverty that my father ruled over while we lived such lavish lives inside. I had tried to explain it to my brothers after my first escape attempt, they just laughed. Said that that was just the way the world worked. There was a set order. I hated it, actively spoke out against them but all it did was get me slapped and set away to my chambers.

We were met by my father and two brothers in the great hall. Staff stood to attention around the perimeter, glaring at me like I was dirt, as I was dragged in in disgrace by a bounty hunter. 

“My daughter, you’re safe!” My father exclaimed, throwing his arms up in praise. There was no kindness or love in his voice. “Get her inside, we can’t have her escape again,” He gave a cold laugh as I was given to a new set of guards. My brothers jeered and laughed in unison with their idol. “I understand you’ve been paid by Asker to do this?” My father addressed the Mandalorian now. “Fucking idiot couldn’t catch his own breath. Here,” He threw a large bag of credits at the bounty hunter. “A million in full.” The Mandalorian nodded, putting the bag into his belt. “You don’t know how great a service you have provided to the galaxy,” My father continued with a wicked smile stretched across his wrinkling face. “A girl like her will surely be the mother of our new empire,” 

I nearly threw up, the enormity of my situation now crashing on top of me. I tried to look to the Mandalorian for help but again it was no use. I was marched off into my new, secure, chambers to await my fate. 

-- 

The Mandalorian frowned beneath his helmet but said nothing whilst in the presence of the King. He’d finished the job, there was nothing else for him to do here. He’d never got involved in politics before and now was not the time. He knew these were not good people but he was not in a place for judgement either. 

He returned to his ship, pleased with the doubling of the earnings from this trip. That amount of credits meant he could lay low for a long while with the Child and finally work out what to do with it. 

Back in the ship, the Child would not settle down. In the few months the Mandalorian had the creature he had never seen it like this. It cried and grumbled, wouldn’t sit still or fall asleep. He knew what the problem was. 

“I can’t do anything about it!” He explained to the Child. “It’s not my problem. The credits I got from that job will keep you in food for weeks!” The Child grumbled and wailed. “Go to sleep,” 

-- 4 Months Later -- 

It was a simple quarry for a quick bit of cash. The ship needed to be patched up after it had run into an asteroid field. The quarry was from a jealous man on Corellia after his wife’s lover. Easy. 

The planet was rich and bustling with people, making the Mandalorian disappear into the background. He swept through the city in search of his bounty, following the tracker in his hand. He was only slowed down by a large crowd which had gathered at the town’s centre. A small stage was set up across the square, with many people surrounding it on all sides. People even hung out of their windows to listen and watch what was going on. 

A familiar face on the stage caught the Mandalorian’s attention. It was Y/n. Now looking like the shell of her previous self. A black cloth covered her head and moth, leaving only sunken sad eyes on show which were covered in gold makeup. She stood smaller, next to a man talking passionately and animatedly about something. The surrounding chatter from the town’s people drowned out what the man was saying.

The Mandalorian carried on on his mission, shaking off any guilt he had. Bad things like this were always happening throughout the galaxy. There was nothing he could do. 

- --

My new life as Vinca Dara’s wife was awful. Far worse than I had ever dreamt. 

I was dragged from planet to planet, city to city trying to recruit and inspire rebellion. We travelled to the furthest reaches of the galaxy, as far from the New Republic as possible to try and gain sympathy for a new regime. 

I was miserable, abused and exhausted. My husband’s forcible attempts at producing an heir were proving futile and he was getting restless. It was like my body even rejected the idea of giving him a child. I figured it was only long before he killed me. He’d been close before when I lost the last child. 

This was a big event. There were already a large group of rebellion supporters on the planet and Vinca Dara and his team were hopeful. I was to stand next to him, looking pretty while he addressed the city, then be his arm candy to a private event with the planet’s leaders. 

The evening’s event was filled with the planet’s most horrible people. I wore a tight royal blue dress, my hair down and flowing over my bare back. Vinca Dara had left me to my own devices a little while ago, instructing me to convince some of the ladies of ‘our’ new ideas for the galaxy. So I stood and mingled with the guests wive. They were not interested in politics and rather talked back local gossip which was rather refreshing after months of nothing but plans of death, destruction of the New Republic. A little alarming that they did not care, but I welcomed the break nonetheless.

As I listened to the women, my eyes wandered around the party. Many different species and races all in one room with staff waiting hand and foot, scurrying between the clusters of people. Then, something caught my eye. A flash of blue baskar, glinted in the light from the corridor just outside the room. That had to be the Mandalorian! I thought I had seen him in the city but I thought I was imagining it. He was here! 

“Excuse me ladies, I just need to freshen up,” I excused myself from the group and went to find him. This was my chance. Summoning all the courage I had in me, I followed him. 

It took a moment to work out which way he went but a sharp shot from inside one of the servants quarters told me exactly where it was. He was lucky the party was so loud, I thought. 

Checking nobody was following me, I carefully pushed the door open As soon as I entered the small dark room the Mandalorian held his gun to my face, finger on the trigger ready. I threw up my hands and pushed myself back against the door. 

“Don’t shoot!” I exclaimed. The Mandalorian did not lower his gun. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“I-I’m hosting the par-,” 

“Here, I mean here right now,” He interrupted, obviously agitated. 

“I need your help,” I said honestly. The Mandalorian didn’t reply, but lowered his gun and returned to the dead body on the floor. “Please. My husband will kill me if he doesn’t get a child soon and… and I can’t do it. Please, I need to get off this planet. Away from him,” 

“I’m working,” 

“I’ll pay you!” I exclaimed desperately. “I’ll give you everything I have. I just need to get out of here, out of this solar system,” The Mandalorian stopped and looked at me for a moment, the helmet completely unforgiving in guarding his expression. “Please,” My bottom lip began to tremble and tears welled in my eyes. 

“No. Go back to your husband,” The Mandalorian turned back to his task. My desperation turned to anger in that moment, I stormed over to him. 

“You know he’s been looking for the Child,” I said spitefully, looming over him as he knelt down with his victim. The Mandalorian looked up at me and stood up slowly. “That green thing you keep as a pet? If you won’t help meI will go to him and tell him you have it, that you’re on this planet,” 

“Are you trying to blackmail me?” 

“Help me and Dara will never know,” I said slowly, staring directly into his visor. 

The Mandalorian was quiet for a moment, I held my breath. This was it. My last chance at freedom and even this was the man that brought me to be in this situation in the first place he was my only hope. 

“Put that on,” He finally said, gesturing to the pile of servants' clothes piled on a table to the side of the room. “And help me move this body” 

I nodded quickly and moved to the clothes. I untied the neck of the dress, the bounty hunter respectfully turned back to his victim as I undressed. The clothes were far too big and made of a very itchy material but I didn’t have much choice. I tied my hair up in a ponytail. The only reminder of who I was, was the gold makeup across my face and sandals on my feet. 

I stood on look out while the Mandalorian pulled his bounty into a bag and dragged it out the building. A transporter waited outside. 

“Take that one, with the bounty. My ship is out on the east fields. You’ll see it,” 

“What about you?” 

“I’ll meet you there,” 

I nodded, unsure of why he was trusting me with his bounty but it was the easiest way to go out of the city unnoticed. I dodged in and out of people on the streets, finally coming to the East gates. Two guards sat asleep at the post and didn’t even wake to see me go. As I rode out into the open land, I began to laugh. The suns were setting beautifully over the horizon casting beautiful colours into the sky. I was free! 

I sped through the fields, towards the familiar ship a little way away. The noise another transporter hummed behind me. I figured it was the Mandalorian so I didn't bother to look back until a red shot flew past my head, narrowly missing me, and exploding in the grass. I screamed and swerved violently, nearly losing all control of the vehicle. 

I turned back quickly, to see who was attacking me. My husband led a band of four guards on smaller bikes. That bastard Mandalorian must have told them I was trying to escape! 

I sped up, racing towards the hills in the distance. I skipped down between ditches and ploughed through crop fields to try and evade capture once again. They remained on my tail. 

Another two shots fired out, missing me again. “Stop! Y/n! Stop right now!” My husband called out. I held my hand up in an offensive gesture, turning back to narrowly miss a large boulder. I was getting into the forest now, it was becoming more difficult to maneuver the heavy vehicle through the trees. 

The trees became denser and I decided I could move better on foot without the extra weight. 

“I’m going to fucking kill you Y/n!” My husband screamed. I could imagine his horrid sweaty red face, that awful vein that pops on his forehead when he’s angry. I shuddered, and kept running. 

I jumped into a small creek, the water soaking the ends of my trousers and nearly bare feet. The hum of the transporters had disappeared, they were on foot. I noticed a cave and decided it would be best to hide there while they were some way behind. I crouched down and sat in the warm water, my body pressed against the back wall, hidden from sight. 

“Y/n!” Vinca Dara screamed again. This time multiple shots followed and a crash as something fell into the water. “You can’t hide forever!” 

They were getting closer. A red shot splashed into the water in front of the mouth of the cave. I jumped and hit my head on the low roof, making me yelp. I clamped my hand over my mouth praying that I wasn’t heard. I pushed myself further into the dark and shut my eyes as more shots rang out. Shouting erupted from above me and heavy footsteps splashed through the water. 

I whimpered and curled up into my knees, screwing my eyes shut, waiting for the end to come.

“I told you to go to the ship,” A metallic voice said from the front of the cave. I opened my eyes and gasped in relief. It was the Mandalorian! I pushed myself up out of the water and walked over to him, my relief turning into rage. 

“You sold me out!” I screamed, pushing him as hard as I could. “You fucking told them!” The bounty hunter remained calm, and was not at all affected by my attack.. “You fucking bastard!” 

“If I did, why would I be here now?” 

“You-,” I stopped and saw the three bodies floating in the water around us, “You killed them?” 

“I thought you still had my bounty,” The Mandalorian said nonchalantly. I smiled. 

“Thank you,” 

Seemingly satisfied that I wasn’t in any more danger, the Mandalorian turned and began to walk back to his ship. I quickly followed behind, not wanting to be left behind again. I stepped over my husband’s dead body, pleased by the multiple shot wounds that had killed him. He deserved a bloody death. I ran to keep up with the Mandalorian, and jumped back on the abandoned transporter, following him back to the safety of his ship, 

“Thank you again. And I promise I will send those credits to you as soon as possible,” I thanked him again once we were inside. I sat on a crate, and pulled the ruined sandals off my feet.

“It’s not necessary,” The Mandalorian said, his back turned to me as he put away his weapons. 

“Yes it is. I am a woman of my word, I owe you my life,” I said sincerely. The Mandalorian shut the cabinet and turned back to me. 

“Where would you like to go?” 

“I don’t care. Just drop me off wherever you are going next. As long as there's opportunity for work and a place to sleep I will be fine. I just need to be as far from all of that as possible,”

“I’m going to Nevarro next,” 

“Sounds perfect,” 

I sat in the back of the cockpit while the Mandalorian flew off the planet. I couldn’t help the smile that grew on my face as the planet soon disappeared into the vast black of space behind us. I had finally made it out, with both my father and husband dead I knew no one would come looking for me. I was truly free. 

“Hello again,” I cooed to the Child as he toddled over. The baby babbled and giggled when it recognised me and raised its arms to be picked up. I happily obliged. “You’ve grown! Yes! Oh aren’t you just the cutest little thing!” I tickled its large ears, making the child laugh. “I don’t know how you get anything done with this thing around. He’s so cute!” I said to the Mandalorian. He didn’t reply. 

I shrugged it off, and went back to playing with the baby. The stress of the day finally settled in, and I yawned, absolutely exhausted. The little creature in my lap, copied and babbled at me. I smiled softly as sleep began to take over me and stroked its little head until I fell asleep. 

A rumble awoke me, we had entered the Nevarro atmosphere. I sat up from my slumped position and sighed as I stretched. The Mandalorian turned around, I smiled and he turned back. The Child was sitting on the desk, playing with a silver ball too busy to notice I was now awake. 

We landed without any trouble. 

“So I guess this is it,” I said. “I will forever be indebted to you Mandalorian,” I bowed my head in reverence, “Are you staying here very long?” 

“A few days possibly,” He said as we walked towards the small settlement. “I’ve got some business here,” We walked in silence for the rest of the way until we reached the gates. “There’s a cantina not too far from here, tell them I sent you and they’ll give you work. There’s plenty of rooms to stay in here,” 

“Thank you,” I smiled, “I will sort those credits out as soon as possible,”

“It-,” 

“I swear bounty hunters don’t usually refuse money,” I laughed. “Take it, and I’ll see you around, hopefully not too soon,” 

“See you around,” 

We shook hands and parted ways. My life had finally begun. 

[tradeway2]

Session 2 17 Jul 2021

Ed and Matthew are being haylords (literally - they are baling hay), so we start a little late. Also Sophie is away, so someone else will be taking Hilda for her.

Mina has been building Gundams…

We make Nature checks to see if anyone of us remember what we are. Hilda does not make a check as she is still at 0HP. Ren, Marcus and Milo remember that ‘zombies’ are made with weird food; but we can’t be zombies because we know our names. We’re amnesiacs; we’re like characters from Neighbours. Not zombies. Pshhh.

Matthew has bestowed upon us some XP for the last fight, plus some extra for entertaining him so beautifully.

Cora thinks we should try to find a way to preserve our food a bit longer. From the feet up from now on?

We make Investigation checks. Milo notices that although the surrounding area contains weapons and spoiled food (mostly what we made), etc., there isn’t much in the way of bodies. He wants to know what size the food is; he thinks they must be from the same litter. They’re all about the same size; medium. (It goes: small, regular, large, goliath, god.) He looks at his friends; we look wounded, but there are no organs or anything hanging out. Some bandages wouldn’t hurt.

After the fight, we discovered our food was carrying some money. Between us, we scrabbled together 13 gp. We remember that money is useful, so we keep it. (Ren decides to invest his in cryptocurrency.) Hilda is the strongest, so we pile to money on her still unconscious form. We also find 7 gems, and 5 bottles, and a sphere.

Bingo asks if we mind him hanging around; he gets very excited when we tell him he’s welcome to chill with us. He’s excited to get to the horde as well. “Everyone’s friends there, it’s brilliant!” Cora decides it’s a bit like Burning Man. Leslie looks us all over; he does that old people thing when they nod along with the young folk. Let young folk be young folk.

Ed joins us, yay!

It turns out that Leslie has never been to Burning Man. Or the horde. I think? He doesn’t like being around big crowds; he prefers to spend time alone. Somewhere a bit greener. Does he mean over there? (Pointing). No, it turns out he arrived by boat. Hmm. Pilfer gets a sense of salt on the air, and the movement of a ship - for a fraction of a second, and then disappeared. He burps something disgusting; this is not strange to any of us.

Leslie comes from a place what is different to the place what we are standin’ on. ‘E’d love to go ‘ome. (For the sake of argument, and the fact that he can’t keep the accent straight from one week to the next, it’s decided that Leslie doesn’t keep his own accent but takes the one from whatever body he’s inhabiting. He’s gone from West Country to Brizzle. Or it might be the Chezzy Massive.)

This sphere that we found has a smooth surface, and weighs about a pound. Ren rolls a 17 Investigation. (Matthew asks me to roll a d4; “No reason.” Uh oh. I roll a 4. That’s either really good or really bad.) The sphere is made of glass.

Pilfer: “It’s a snow globe!”

DM: “… It’s opaque.”

Pilfer: “It’s not a snow globe!”

Ren blurts out, ‘Driftglobe!” It will light up as if the Daylight spell is cast. He can speak the command word in Friends and it will light up. It works once per day and recharges at dawn. It can also float.

Milo hears some food shout, a sort of sad, whiny sound, but then it’s gone.

What’s in the bottles? They’re glass, reasonably ornate, long necked, with a rich red fluid in them. Not sauce. Ren opens one and gives it a sniff. It smells like the best food in the world. Leslie advises against drinking it, however. Marcus asks him if he knows what it is; it’s a healing potion. Two seem to be in fancier bottles than the rest. We decide to give Hilda one of the fancy ones. (We now have two remaining RHPs.)

We distribute and take various potions, and then set about deciding what to do. Bingo panics when he realises he doesn’t actually know how to find the horde; Cora manages to calm him down, and earns herself Inspiration.

Leslie seems to have more of an idea of what to do and where he’s going, so we decide to go with him and work in a visit to the horde as and when we can. Bingo thinks we might be starting our own horde. Trendsetters!

Matthew does a sound effect and drowns himself out. “Who’s playing Metallica?” “You are!”

We carry on: The battlefield scenery continues for the better portion of the day. Does it bother us that we’re walking on a carpet of the dead? Well - that’s the thing. There’s not many bodies. Sometimes flying food comes and pecks at it, but when we grab at it, it nips out the way real quick. (We know what birds are, but we are aware that these aren’t birds. These are flying food. There’s a difference.) There are weapons on the ground, but not whole corpses. There are bits, sure, and we can hear friends shouting in the distance.

“I’m Bingo!”

“Can I be Bingo too?”

“Sure!”

(Interesting note - they are all Bingo, but they are all aware which Bingo is which.)

The sky begins to clear. The carnage appears to be thinning. There are fewer weapons, less spoiled food. We snack on what bits of food are still dragging themselves along the ground. Ren: “Mmm, trail mix.”

Cora asks Pilfer if he needs his parasol - he belatedly fumbles around for it. (Also DM has added a sketch book to Ren’s inventory for his lyrics and drawings. He knows it’s his, but he doesn’t know why he’s done all those hieroglyph, squiggly weirdness in between the pictures.)

Something hoves into view as the scenery improves:

Bingo: “I know why they do it - it’s for the freshness!”

Pilfer: “Has anyone got a tin opener?”

Ren: “It’s got its own tin opener strapped to the back of it, look.”

We see the canned food shake its head and draw its can opener as it approaches us. And we roll initiative…

The food goes first; it steps forward and prepares itself to be opened. (It holds an action.)

Milo goes next. He moves forward and tries the first of his two can openers, for a dirty 20 with his javelin. Yeah! He pierces the protective container; we will have to eat this meal today, it won’t keep now. The food pulls Milo's opener out of itself, and there is sauce on the end of it. Milo is delighted.

Cora moves forward, and holds an action, as do Hilda and Marcus. (Marcus makes an INT check to see if he’s noticed he has a quarterstaff yet; he has not.) Ren shambles forward as well, and does the same, holding up his second spear. "Kebab."

Pilfer hucks some cutlery at the food, once he’s within range. 19 to hit with his dagger-spoon. Spork? Ed: “I reckon you could do some serious damage with a spork.”

Leslie shambles up and holds back for now, but Bingo can’t contain himself. He uses all of his movement to get right up to the food, and its tin opener. This is not going to go well for Bingo, as he’s now the only one in range of the food. The food now attacks Bingo.

Ren: “Poor Bingo.”

Cora: “Bingo is about to get a lot shorter.”

Matthew finds the right button and hits Bingo with a 21 and a 22, for 11 slashing damage.

Pilfer: “… Bye, Bingo.”

Luckily the food misses its second attack, and Bingo is still up. He’s only cleaved a bit in twain; he’ll probably walk it off.

Cora has a go at tenderising the suit. She swings her mace, but misses. Milo moves up and uses another can opener - but 15 misses. “This food is tricksy.”

Hilda flings her hand axe but it bounces off the can. Marcus runs up and does a Slam but misses. Ren walks up to the food for an attack as well; he pokes it with his spear, two handed. 15 misses.

You know, food can sometimes be quite dangerous. We should have a rule where we can horde up and all attack together (as in, we can flank for advantage.)

Pilfer, having run out of cutlery, hucks a ‘smol hammer’ at the food as an improvised weapon. 21 hits! Right in the noggin! 1 point of damage, awww.

Leslie stays on the outskirts a bit, but he’s making his way round. Bingo’ll have a go. “He’s so excited!” 9 misses, though. He paws ineffectually at the can, frustrated. The food has a go back, but misses Bingo. The second one hits for 7 damage.

Matthew, clicking buttons: “ Poor… old… Bingo.”

We hear Bingo say, “Ow!” He looks poorly now.

Cora is up. Open this can! She has a try at grappling the food to the floor; she makes a STR check for 14. She does not grapple the food. Milo moves up to flank it with Marcus, and does a bite by making a Slam attack with his teeth. 4 Bludgeoning damage!

Hilda moves up but can’t get near the food, so she elbows Marcus and Ren in the back of the knees. Marcus attacks, now that he’s flanking with Milo, and manages a Slam for 6 bludgeoning damage. Yeah!

Ren shuffles around so he’s flanking with Cora, and has a stabby at the unprotected side - but sadly, even with advantage, he misses. His spear skitters across the surface of the can. Pilfer wishes to Slam him. “Slam to your heart’s content.” Sadly he’s so excited he slams the floor instead.

This is standard Friend tactics - surround and overwhelm - we don’t need to change a thing. Leslie has a go as well now. He misses.

Stuff is leaking from Bingo, but he’s still up and for the first time in his career with this new horde, he scores a 20 to hit for 2 bludgeoning damage. We all cheer.

Canned food does some sword work at Bingo, hits him, and Bingo goes down.

“NO BINGO NO!!!!!”

Bingo is not dead, because he’s significant enough to have a name, we are assured. Hooray! The food takes aim at Milo, but only rolls a nine. Phew!

It’s Cora’s turn. The canned food smells worried. She has another go at grappling it, but rolls a 7 - she uses her Inspiration and grapples it.

Milo has a dim memory of catching something like this that had pinchers, so he pokes between the plates with his javelin to get at the good stuff - and gets a Critical Poke! DM: “I’m not gonna lie to you guys, you needed that.”

Does Milo get any nice chewy bits out? He’s pushed his javelin right through the knee joint; he’s separated the bones in there, and it’s all just connected by meat now. If the food survives this, it will never be knight again. He now has a long career as a meme to look forward to.

This food is now much closer to being prepared now. Milo even gets Inspiration for such a wonderfully timed Nat 20. Hilda takes aim at his other knee, cackling all the while, and hits with a 24 for 6 bludgeoning.

Marcus aims a Slam at its head with 23 to hit for 7 damage; canned food is struggling but not down. The only thing holding it up is Cora’s grapple and the fact that we’re standing all around it. (Like when you pass out at a gig.)

Ren remembers food on a stick (hazy memories) and has another poke - and misses. He realises he’s been using the wrong end of his spear, so he turns it around for next time. DM, through tears of laughter, awards Inspiration.

Pilfer takes a swing and a miss.

Duncan, OOC: “Don’t stop me now…”

Ren realises he’s humming under his breath.

This food is smelling pretty ready now. Not perfect! But close. Bingo makes an Undeath save. a 19! Canned food struggles against Cora’s grapple, but fails. DM: “It is weary, and ready for eats.” Cora wants to start sucking the juice out of the eye holes. She makes an attack but a 14 misses; she used her Inspiration last round.

Milo takes aim at the armpit. DM: “Horrible little man! I love it!” He rolls two 8s, sadly.

Hilda has been cackling since last round, and takes aim at the same spot as last time. 21 hits, for 4 bludgeoning damage and with that the meal cracks open. Underneath the can is lots and lots of lovely freshly prepared food!

Pilfer retrieves his hammer and knife, and Hilda picks up her axe. Marcus stops shovelling food into his mouth for long enough to give Bingo a potion.

Milo wants to bend some metal into a sort of cup shape, and try saving some of the food for later. He can add “Some food in home made can” to his character sheet. Matthew adds that he must note: “Not airtight.”

We all get some treats! 116XP! As we consume our meal we find 8 more gp, some more gems. Marcus asks to keep the can's can opener, as he doesn’t have a weapon; Leslie nudges him and says he might have something on his back. Marcus turns around.

We also find two more RHPs, some fancy boots. We don’t know what they are, but Leslie suggests they might be worth taking along. Pilfer claims them, and the food’s hat. The head falls out; Ren starts digging around behind the jaw for the good bits. We also find a fancy stick! Milo knows what it is - and now he has Proficiency in Investigation rolls. He and Ren both know it’s a magic stick. Not just a stick, either - a staff. It’s got a snake’s head on it. He doesn’t know the exact nature of it, due to his own nature. Marcus picks up the tin opener/greatsword.

We have a nice sit down meal. Bingo is so delighted with us and our micro-horde, he’s starting to forget about looking for the main one.

We decide to devote another week to this, as we started late. We finish with a dream for Cora:

She knows she’s asleep. She is in a pretty setting of rolling meadows; she feels at peace. She knows that she knows more now, but can’t grasp what exactly that is. It is the height of summer. A bright red comet races across the sky, and it starts to rain. The sky grows dark, and she feels a sense of melancholy. The rain grows heavier. At a table in the middle of the meadow is an old man, gorging himself on food from silver plates. His eyes turn black, and he smiles. (A midget talks backwards and is gone.) The old man becomes a figure holding a sword and speaking gibberish. A mountain crumbles to dust. The figure advances. It grasps Cora by the throat -

And she wakes up.

[angelaiswriting]

Elias | Blitz x fem!OC

✏️ Pairing: Blitz x fem!OC, Bandit & fem!OC

✏️ Summary: in which Lyudmyla officially meets Elias and realizes that opening up to him is not as difficult as it has always felt with everyone else. (Sparked by an idea by my lovely @kind-wolf​)

✏️ A/N: do I love writing sex? Yes. Do I love Elias Kötz? Absolutely! 11k+ words about Lyuda and him don’t make them justice, but I don’t want to bury y’all under too many words lol. This hasn’t been properly re-read yet. Ignore possible nonsense pls

✏️ Warnings: fluff between Lyuda and Dom + 18+ ONLY (oral f/r (mentions of m/r), protected and unprotected sex, kind of accidental semi-public sex (?), bad flirting, alcohol)

✏️ Word-count: 11,588 :)) my hand slipped

✏️ Translations: tesoro (Italian) = darling // lyubimaya (Russian) = love

>> Part Two: Lyudmyla (masterlist > rainbow six) >>

ELIAS

Despite it being ten in the morning, the Base was quiet when Lyudmyla left debriefing. It had been an easy mission, albeit exhausting — go in, rescue the hostages while simultaneously retrieving some intel, then take everyone to safety. Nothing she had never done before. Nothing compared to what we’re used to, Volkov would have said, back in Stepnoy. And yet, after having been awake for longer than she could remember, she couldn’t wait to hit the shower and then her bed.

“I’m meeting up with Sanya after lunch,” Timur said, throwing an arm around her shoulders and hissing when the movement didn’t sit well with his sore muscles.

She snorted before he had the chance to continue. “You’re going to lunch?” she asked, surprised, head whipping to the side so fast she almost got whiplash. Glaz looked just as tired as she and for a moment, she wished she could ease his exhaustion like he always lifted her spirits.

“You’re not?”

“I’m going to sleep for at least two days straight, Tima,” she laughed and a moment later, before he could say anything, she stood up on her toes and left a kiss on his stubbled cheek. “So tell Sanya and the guys I say hi and that I’ll see them again when I don’t feel like a zombie anymore, yes?”

He smiled and for a moment he stood there, just staring at her, one arm still around her shoulders. If asked, she wouldn’t be able to tell with complete certainty who was keeping the other standing when all they could think of was sitting — or better yet, lying — down and not getting up for as long as they could manage. But then he pulled her in for a quick good-bye hug before stepping away. “I’ll check up on you tonight, see if you’re awake enough to grab a bite at that new place you wanted to check out,” he said before snickering. “Unless Dominic steals you again, that is!”

He was gone before she could flip him off — jokingly, that is. Everything was light and easy between them, and between her and Dominic as well. She had bonded with the other operators back at the base in Stepnoy, when she had been a Spetsnaz agent and nothing more, and with some of her new colleagues as well, of course, but none of those people had ever felt like home, not like Tima and Dom did. They had her back and she had theirs and with Dominic most of all, it was like being children again, sneaking around with your dearest friend and causing mischief behind everyone’s back.

When she unlocked the door to her dorm room, twenty minutes or so later, there was a surprise waiting for her on her bed.

“Christ, Schatzi, you look like absolute shit!”

Caught by surprise by his words, Lyudmyla stopped in her tracks, magnetic card still in one hand as she stood in the doorframe. Then, when she came back to the present moment, something halfway between a chuckle and a sigh left her lips. “Thanks, love. It’s good to see you, too.”

The door closed behind her back with the soft click of the lock going back into place, and the weight of the mission and of the relief of being back home crashed down on her shoulders all at once. No more running around for a few weeks now; no more aiming at someone hundreds of yards away through the gunsight of her rifle; no more Lion to stand day and night. A sob almost bubbled up in her throat when the realization that she could now rest dawned down on her — sleep, a stroll around Hereford’s grounds, a jog through the park, fun times with her friends…

“I drew you a bath.”

“How the fuck did you get in here?” It was a halfhearted complaint, for she truly didn’t mind the man sneaking into her dorm. She spotted her baggage on the dresser to her right and realized that he was probably the one who had brought it there after she had forgotten to. For a split second, she contemplated taking out her dirty clothes to bring them to the laundry room but decided not to.

Drained as she was, she felt like she was moving in slow-motion, movements and sounds slowed down around her now that she was back to safety and had the time and space to just let go of everything. So, when Dominic grabbed her by her shoulders, she jolted in place, a gasp leaving her lips at that unexpected gesture.

“Are you okay?” was what he asked, eyebrows knitted together and head slightly tilted to the side as he stared at her — almost through her, for he knew she had a habit of keeping how she truly felt a goddamn secret. He waited for her reply to come but in vain. “Go take that bath before the water gets cold.”

“A shower would be quicker,” she complained as he steered her in the direction of the bathroom, hands on her shoulders.

He parroted her once before he tsked her. “Should’ve texted me that that was the plan. Hop into the tub, I’ll unpack your stuff.”

Exhausted or not, there was no complaining, not when Dominic set his mind on something. So, when he left her alone and the door ajar, she slowly stripped herself of the uniform she was still wearing and set first one foot and then the other into the warm water. She wondered how long ago he had drawn her that bath, but the thought came and went, for her body seemed to melt in the welcoming warmth that enveloped her the more she sank into it.

Allowing herself to relax for the first time in weeks, she let her head fall back and her eyes close. Not a sound reached the quiet confines of the bathroom but Dom’s rummaging silently through her things. She heard him move around her room, putting away some of the things she had brought back, before soft music started playing through the speakers of her TV.

She chuckled. He had a way of doing things… and she loved it — loved how caring and sweet this soldier was, even when she gave him a hard time to make up for the fact that he gave her a hard time. He had been just a text away for endless days, always ready to send back some stupid reply at whatever ungodly hour she managed to send a few words his way, and now that she was back, it was almost weird to realize that he had never changed, not even when she was battered blue and purple and could still feel the muzzle of that gun kissing her left temple.

At some point during her slow fall into deep relaxation, he pushed the door and her eyes shot open, stared at the anthracite gray of the wall tiles. Something about taking her dirty laundry away, and even though there was a Please, stay with me burning the tip of her tongue, she let him go.

There was silence for the first time in forever, then, the volume of the music so soft her ears could easily bypass it. She could hear her own breathing, though, slow and steady, and underneath that, the regular beating of her heart.

Russian operations had been worse, she tried to convince herself — and Spetsnaz training topped it all. The pain, the exhaustion, the humiliation… Nothing could compare and yet, she had been this close to leaving this world and although it had been just one of many, many times, she had seen Mira this time. Mira and that sweet smile of hers — and how she hadn’t seen her in forever as Lyuda always did anything in her power to stay away from Nizhny Novgorod and the house she had once lived in.

Ten-year-old Mira, smiling up at her big sister Lyuda as she got ready to leave with a uniform in her only luggage. Ten-year-old Mira and that Will you come home for Christmas? of hers that sometimes still plagued her, ten years after those words had been uttered. She had promised she would, but then her mother had let one of her usual malicious words leave her mouth a couple of weeks later and she had thrown the idea to the wind. She hadn’t come back for Christmas, nor to check up on her sister after the accident that took her sight away, and all because even the army had felt better than going back home.

Had she died seven days ago, she would have done so with guilt and remorse in her heart, and that wasn’t how she planned to leave this world. Not with Miroslava’s chocolate eyes full of hope staring at a Lyudmyla that would never be back.

Her back slid down along the wall of the tub and before she could realize it, her head was underwater, her eyes closed and her breath caught in her throat. She didn’t know what it was about this time, why it had struck her so much. Why she couldn’t shake off the cold kiss of a gun against her temple. She hadn’t run a real risk, she knew Timur had her back — Timur, and how good of a sniper he was. She had volunteered to act as a bait; she had found herself kneeling on the dusty ground because of a plan she had helped come up with. She had been in that position many a time, and she could see no reason why this one accident should take the crown.

“Lyuda?”

The sound of Dominic’s voice was muffled and almost distorted by the water, but it still managed to startle her, and as she jolted up to sitting and water sloshed out of the tub, she found herself gasping for air.

“What happened in Nairobi?”

She turned to look at him, and it still felt like moving underwater. Then, when she put him into focus, something seemed to click and the world went back to its usual speed — although a bit too quick when all she wanted to do was make up for lost time. “What?”

“I met Twitch in the laundry room when I dropped your things off,” he started, voice slow and measured. She could read it in his eyes — that accusation of sorts, and the more she stared, the more it seemed to make the droplets of water on her upper body burn her skin. “She said something about fearing Glazkov not being able to take you out of there in time.”

It was one thing to know she had a mother, back in Russia, that despised her job — hers, her ex-husband’s, her only living son’s — and that wanted another life for her, one that didn’t suit her, one that would never fit her. And it was another to have a hardened soldier stand in front of her, with his arms crossed against his chest and his eyes trying to burn the truth out of her — out of her reckless mind.

“Everything was under control,” she heard herself say with that confidence so typical of her. Nothing had been under control, not with Lion fearing for the hostages’ lives when there was nothing to fear, not yet. But she couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud, not when she was sure her friend had already grasped part of the truth.

He didn’t say anything for a long minute and as he stood there, almost towering over her despite being at the other end of the bathroom, Lyudmyla felt small and insignificant under that knowing gaze of his. Without uttering a word, he took a towel from a cabinet and laid it down on the floor next to her. “You know you don’t have to close off,” he said eventually. His hand was making the skin of her shoulder burn, or so was the sensation she felt, and that was what she focused on as she tried her best to avoid his gaze. “Not with me, there’s no need to. I’m always here for you if you need me.”

“I know,” but it was soft, faint, and she wondered if he had heard her before he left the room and a fresh change of clothes waiting for her on the counter by the sink.

When she walked back into her bedroom some time later, after she successfully scrubbed all the grime off her skin and out of her hair, she found Dominic waiting for her on her bed as he scrolled intently through Netflix in search of a title that could catch his attention. She didn’t say a word for long, endless minutes, but she knew he had heard her, that he knew she was right there. 

She didn’t exactly know why she hadn’t told him about that stupid plan as soon as she had had time to, and the only explanation she could come up with was that causing him to worry was truly the very last thing she wanted. And even more so when he was thousands of miles away, with more time on his hands than he knew how to occupy it all.

“It was the only sensible thing to do at that moment.” There was no need to justify herself, and surely not to someone who did her exact same job. Running risks was part of the job and it was foolish to think that nothing bad would ever happen — they handled real weapons, after all, not some cheap toys for children. “It had to be done if we wanted to collect the information RAINBOW wanted.”

Dominic shrugged his shoulders, his eyes still fixed on the TV screen hanging on the wall opposite her bed. “I have no doubt about that.” Just then, he seemed to settle on a title and he let the remote drop to his side as his head turned in her direction. “And I’m not here to judge whatever decision you and the others made back there. I want to know how you’re feeling, that’s all.”

He stretched his right hand out in her direction and she hesitated for a heartbeat or two before she walked away from the wall she had been leaning against. His hand was warm in hers, the skin of his palm roughened by callouses. It was a comforting touch and while she wasn’t a fan of touching people or of being touched, she realized now just how much she had missed being this close to him.

“You don’t have to say shit if you don’t want to,” he warned her, moving up on the bed so that he was sitting back against her pillows and she could cuddle against his side. “But if you do decide to talk about it, I don’t want to hear bullshit. It’s either the truth or nothing at all.”

It took her a while to move her head against his shoulder and stare up at him. She had been hardened by the military life she had been thrown into long before she had enlisted, and the prospect of opening up to someone physically pained her at times. There was also no lying to Dominic: he always somehow managed to see right through her shit and call her out on it.

“It isn’t for the threat itself,” she eventually sighed in defeat, eyes locking with his.

“You had your head underwater, Schatzi…”

She shook her head before repeating that It isn’t for the threat itself, with more conviction this time. “I have a sister, Mira, living back in Russia with my mother. I don’t know why I never talk about her,” she said when a look at his expression made her feel guilty for never telling him about her. Dominic was probably the one that knew her best, better than anyone else in the world, and although he might think he knew her better than the back of his hand, there were still secrets she had never disclosed, not even to him.

“Did you think of her?”

She shrugged. “I’ve been unjust with her, and never once made up for it. I haven’t seen her in almost ten years and I… miss her, I think.” A sigh, then, and after that, a long moment of silence.

He was playing with her still-damp hair and instead of playfully complaining about her getting his shirt wet, his lips remained sealed. “Why don’t you go back and visit her, then?” He frowned, and she could read his confusion in his eyes clearer than it was in his voice. “I could come with.”

Her head tilted back; it almost slid off his shoulder in her attempt to look at the ceiling instead of the possible new wave of accusation that might flash across his features. “She had an accident, ten years ago. I was eighteen and had just joined the army. It was my first time truly away from home, among people that didn’t know who the hell I was. Well, the majority of them, at least. My mother never wanted for me to truly enlist, and even more so after what happened to Vasya and Serzh, I told you all about this already. Mira had made me promise to go back for Christmas, but I couldn’t make it because of training, you know how these things are. It was October. I got a call from my mother in March, and I ignored it. Around the end of May, my dad visits my unit for military reasons and he tells me Mira’s had an accident, that she’s in a coma and has been for three months.”

“Her being in a coma wasn’t your fault, though.”

“No, but never visiting was. Never calling for the first two years, was. Running away from the idea of going back just to keep my pride intact, was, as well. There was nothing I could do, but I sure as hell could’ve done something.” She huffed, and then turned onto her back to rub her face with impatient hands. “I just wanted to run away. Away from my mother and everything Nizhny Novgorod, but I ended up being trapped in this mess anyway. We talk over the phone every once in a while but…”

“You’ve been at gunpoint in the past, and you’ve never thought of her that I know of. Why this sudden crisis?”

“I got a text in Nairobi,” she confessed. “My baby sister is inviting me to her wedding next year and while she knows I’m busy and most likely won’t be able to make it to her engagement party, she’s still inviting me over when I’m free to meet her fiancé and celebrate together.”

“And?”

“‘And’ what?”

“That’s not a bad thing. You should accept the invitation, meet your future brother-in-law, and enjoy your time with her. We could die at any given moment when we’re on a mission, so why spend so much time on spilled milk?”

She frowned and gaped at him for a moment, brain incapable of coming up with words. It sounded so easy on Dominic’s lips — fly back home, hug your sister, possibly apologize for being a terrified cunt ten years ago, and then go on with your life. Easy peasy. Right?

“You’re still in contact, ain’t you?” His voice brought her back to the present moment and when she moved her gaze to focus on him again, she found him staring at her with a smile and the remote back in his hand. “What do you fear? Repercussions? I’m sure she knows how you feel, or at least has an idea of it — you’re not that hard to read once one gets to know you. It’s your sister: she wouldn’t invite you to her wedding if she didn’t want you there.”

That made sense, and the more she turned that thought around in her mind, the more sense it made. “I’m not in the mood to talk about this now. Put on that movie.”

He didn’t move for a long minute, and she could feel his burning gaze on the side of her face as she sat back against her pillows, mirroring his position, and stared at the TV in front of her. In the silence of the room, she could hear his regular breathing — and then something else, something in the air between them that she couldn’t put her finger on and name, but it was that feeling that always overcame her when she closed herself off and he didn’t like it.

“Marius is throwing a party for his birthday on Saturday,” Dominic said after a while, some time into the film he had chosen and not long before she finally crashed out from exhaustion. “You’re invited as my plus one and you can’t say no. Consider it training for your sister’s invitations.”

*

It’s gonna be just us — that’s what Dominic had said, four days ago. It had taken him a lot of convincing and that prospect was what had bought her. She was on good terms with almost every one of her RAINBOW colleagues, but she wasn’t one to mingle too much. She felt better off in small groups, just a few people at a time, nothing too overwhelming; she wasn’t one for crowds. So when she walked into the bar, fully expecting to find the German team and maybe a few other operators, she found herself being a deer caught in headlights, taken aback by the amount of people Jäger must know and that he had invited to his party of sorts.

“I was starting to think you had blown me off!” Dominic elbowed his way through the people present and pulled her into a side hug, a bottle of beer in the hand that wasn’t squeezing her shoulder. A huge grin on his face, his eyes seemed to twinkle under the slightly-dimmed lights of the place.

“And I thought it would be ‘just us’,” she groaned back, grabbing a hold of his beer to steal a sip. Beer wasn’t her favorite, but so wasn’t water, and she knew how to settle for the lesser evil.

He shrugged, guilt burning bright in his amused expression. “Oh, c’mon, babe! You’ve been away for endless days,” he slurred, head bowing down closer to her just so that he could look at her from underneath his lashes, in that childish way of trying and getting things done his way that he never missed a chance to sport. “Left poor me to live with the boredom of the Base alone, when almost everybody was away. Grant me this one?”

It was impossible to stay impassible when Dom was around. Whether you wanted it or not, he always managed to find a way to put a smile on your face. And more than that, it truly warmed her heart, the way he always tried with her — to lift her spirits, to take her out of her shell, to give everyone he cared about a good time… So she smiled. Instead of groaning or rolling her eyes — which she tried to do for a moment, there was no denying that —, she gave him a lopsided grin before caving in. “I’ll leave at some point, though. I’m still exhausted, my body is a whole ache.”

“None of that bullshit,” he shook his head as he led her to the side of the room Marius had rented for the night. “I know you had a Thai massage earlier today.”

She snorted at that and for good measure, she gave him a look, just before being greeted by the birthday boy himself. “I’ll book an appointment for you, then. I’m sure Tachanka will be more than happy to practice his rough skills on someone new. I’ll let you decide how Thai that massage is.”

Then, before he had the chance to process the fact that her masseur was a giant of a man or even just to say a word, Marius pulled her into a tight hug and she wished him a hundred more of these days. They had never truly bonded — they had never been assigned on a mission together, and those were the occasions she used to get to know people better. If she didn’t see how they fought and worked, then she didn’t have the chance to form an impression about someone. And aside from Dom, she had never worked with the Germans.

“I’m glad you could make it!” Marius had taken her towards a booth and had made her sit, and when her friend joined them with a new beer for her, she found herself being squished between the latter and Blitz. “This motherfucker’s always talking about you and how good of a drinking partner you are, but he never shared before.”

She chuckled. “Yeah, and it’s usually not beer,” she smirked, taking a sip from her bottle.

Ten minutes into the party, and she had already been introduced to Marius’ civil British friends and to some of the RAINBOW operators she didn’t know that well, Elias Kötz included. She had seen him around already, and for obvious reasons, just as she knew his codename was Blitz. And that he was the freak with the freaky shield she had always wanted to see in action but never had the chance to.

He seemed like a nice man, and while Dominic never downplayed anyone, he had never portrayed his friend as such a fun person. He knew more jokes than she could recall and some time later, deeper into the drinking games, when the alcohol started making her forget her English, she even found out he spoke Russian — and that he was very good at it.

“What part of Russia have you been to?” she found herself asking at some point, the party now completely forgotten just as she was unaware of Dominic staring at her — and at his friend and colleague — with a smirk on his face from some meters away. “I can’t pinpoint your accent.”

Blitz — Elias, he had insisted for her to call him by his name — seemed to blush just before he brought his beer to his lips to hide that satisfied smile of his. “I’ve never been,” he shrugged. “I had a girlfriend during my second year of high school, she was from Ekaterinburg. We ended up breaking up during summer break, but I found some people that could help me with the language and I didn’t say no to that chance. I knew it would be useful one day.”

And maybe it was the vodka in her system — and in his as well — but she found that blood flowed quickly to her cheeks under the smile he sent her way. He was a pretty sight, for sore eyes and all that, and she wasn’t one to be sheepish around men, whether she was drinking or not. Hell, there had been two guys back in Stepnoy with which she had done things that would make her own father’s face turn beetroot red! This man flirting — or trying to — with her shouldn’t be anything new. Nonetheless, she found herself staring down at the table, stomach squeezing and fingertips tingling.

“Useful, you say?” The right corner of her lips turned upward into an almost-trembling smirk as she tried her best not to chuckle. “Did you have any chance with some Russian these days?”

He let out a long ehh and he shrugged his shoulders, eyes gazing up at the ceiling as his own smirk risked giving its place to full laughter. “There’s this one woman, very pretty. She’s my homie’s homie apparently. As Marius said, Dom doesn’t share much, but I’m sure you’ve seen her around Hereford. On the short side, shoulder-length hair, doesn’t open up much, amazing shooter on the long distance…”

At those words, and at the badly-contained amusement in his expression, she couldn’t help but laugh — and almost choke on her shot. She had lost count of how many pickles and how many drinks she had had by now, but it didn’t matter, not when she was feeling that nice warmth inside. “First off, she’s not on the ‘short side,’ try again.” She nudged his thigh with her knee and they both chuckled, by now badly sitting up straight on the leather bench of the booth. “Second off, she does open up… with those she feels comfortable around.”

He chuckled at her grin, and then at the way she chomped on that pickle, grinning with both eyes and lips. “She sounds like a really interesting person, maybe you could help me out a bit with her.”

Neither of them knew how her hand ended up moving over his, nor how the fingers of his other hand ended up touching her cheek. All Lyudmyla knew was that she ended up staying much longer than she had planned to — and she didn’t regret it at all.

*

When she woke up the next day, she had her head squished into the pillow and it took her disoriented brain a full five minutes to pick up the light snoring coming from next to her. There wasn’t much she remembered about the night before — Sanya had driven her to that club before heading to his own date, and then Dominic had tried his puppy dog eyes on her. She did remember making out in the restroom with Elias, though, and she found herself suppressing giggles as that tingling sensation in her lips came back.

Then, the more she woke up, the more her ears seemed to focus on the sound of the person sleeping next to her. When she turned around, she almost expected to find a sleeping Blitz by her side, but it was a relief to be proved wrong, for once, and to be met by Dominic snoring with his face turned towards her, one hand on his chest and the other underneath his pillow.

She stared at him for a long moment, almost in the attempt of memorizing the lines of his face for the umpteenth time. He hadn’t shaved in days, and the stubble he had sported when she came back on Tuesday had grown longer. His expression was peaceful, the expression lines on his face fully relaxed, and she had to resist the impulse of extending a hand out to poke one of his cheeks.

Bringing the night’s events back to memory proved to be a tough thing, hindered by the dull headache pounding inside her skull, but she was fairly sure there had been endless German in the car, and then Marius’ voice wishing her sweet dreams, probably right after he dropped both her and Dominic in the latter’s room. For a moment, as she splashed cold water on her face in her friend’s bathroom, she wondered why and it was only after a quick shower that she realized the reason must have to do with her door pad and a key (or a code) these people didn’t have.

“Such a pretty view when I have such an insisting headache,” was the groggy voice that welcomed her when she walked back into the room, hair still wet and dripping water on the shirt she had worn the night before. “Not that I’m complaining, but what the hell are you doing in my room?” he asked, rubbing his eyes as he tried to shake the sleep off of his system.

She chuckled at him and before she spoke a word, she threw a blister of ibuprofen she had found in the cabinet behind his mirror at him. “I sneaked in here to have fun at the expenses of drunk you, that’s what.” But she walked up to him, took the bottle of water on his bedside table, and opened it to smell if its contents were still any good to be drunk. “Pop a pill, big boy,” she smiled, handing him the bottle. “And when you’re feeling like a bull again, remind me to never come to a party with you again.”

“C’mon, you had fun, I saw you and Eli ‘opening up’,” he snickered, but she was already flipping him off as she left his room.

The mess hall was empty when she crossed it, her objective being the kitchens behind the door at the opposite side from the one she had come in. She could only think of coffee — and then of some more vodka, she wouldn’t say no to that; she just needed Sanya or Tima hiding with their alcohol in the kitchens and she would have a blast of a morning. But when she walked in, it was German the first thing she heard — amused German as someone seemed to be making fun of someone else.

“Hi,” she smiled, stopping in her tracks when she spotted Marius and Elias playing with forks as though they were tiny swords of sorts. “I will only ask if you left any coffee for another hangover person.”

“It’s not what it looks like,” Marius chuckled, massaging the spot where his friend’s fork had hit the back of his hand.

He said something else, but Lyudmyla was back to feeling like a teenager for the first time in a while and she didn’t hear a word. Elias was pouring her a cup of coffee — not as hot anymore by now, but she had had far worse in Russia, so she wouldn’t complain — and she tried to hide a smile at the memory of last night’s kissing. His kisses had been so soft and demanding at the same time, she found herself remembering, and they had giggled against each other’s lips like some school kids at something either of them had said.

“How’re you holding up?” he asked her, fingers brushing against hers when he passed her the mug.

She smirked in amusement, and her eyebrows rose almost comically as she stared into the blue of his eyes. “I’ve had worse,” she confessed. Then, when she turned around, she barely had the time to take in Jäger’s indecipherable expression as he stared at them, that she was talking again. “If you two are in the mood for a late breakfast, I’ve been dying to try out this new place downtown.”

“Count me in!” came Dominic’s booming and unexpected reply as he strode into the room, clothes still crumpled after he had slept in them all night. Then, as she turned around to check in with Elias, came Dom’s whiny What? at the slap Marius gave his arm and that neither of the other two present in the room had the chance to see.

“Unfortunately I’ll have to turn your offer down, Lyuda,” Marius smiled. “I have a device evaluation in a bit that I really can’t postpone. I will say yes to another day, though, if you’ll have me.” Then, when she nodded happily, he went on. “Thank you for coming to the party yesterday, I’m glad we could get to know each other better. Dom was right about you.”

*

Lyudmyla was still thinking about Jäger’s Dom was right about you when they left the diner she had wanted to check out for a good two months now — the verdict: nothing special on the outside, but the food was delicious. She had even met up with Timur after changing her clothes before leaving the Base, but he had turned down her offer as well, adducing something about Sanya and ‘an embarrassing injury’ whose details he hadn’t disclosed.

She tried to understand what those words could be about, what exactly Dominic had told them about her — knowing him, probably a big, smoking pile of bullshit — but she couldn’t come up with anything. A good impression, that’s what she hoped that was: Emmanuelle had thought her to be a bitch before she got to know her better, and all because she didn’t socialize much with the others. She knew she could come off as haughty, but she was anything but with Bandit.

Not that I care about what people think of me — but the truth was, deep down, she did.

“I’m full like an egg,” Dominic complained, sitting back on the park bench they had called for themselves. Hands on his stomach, Lyuda knew he was puffing it out on purpose to make her laugh, and she was doing her best not to just to see where his attempts would go. “You’re quiet, Schatzi. What are you thinking about?”

“What the best way to shut you up is,” intervened Elias, and she found herself absentmindedly chuckling at those words.

Eyes set on two dogs playing with their owner not far from them, she just enjoyed the quiet — or as much of it as she could have with Dominic’s never-ending babbling. For the first time in God knew how long, she was comfortable, sitting there with her best friend and then another guy she didn’t know that well, but that, for one, she found interesting and for two, she had spent the night making out with in some not-so-clean restroom. It was out of the ordinary, but it was a good feeling, one she found herself basking in.

“Or maybe she’s just a bit uncomfortable because you’re here, as well.”

“Oh, eat shit, Nic,” she laughed, just to then lean her head on his shoulder for a moment, before taking one of his hands in hers, a You know I love you chuckled softly against the leather of his jacket. “Maybe, but it’s just a hypothesis, I’m not that well-rested, since I had to sleep next to a snoring you.”

“I don’t snore.”

“Of course, you do!” and she turned to smile at Elias when they both said it at the same time.

He gaped for a moment before he frowned. “Fine, maybe I do. A bit,” he groaned. “Sometimes.”

Then, before any of them had the time to drag the joke out a little longer, Dominic’s phone rang and after an insistent call with Marius, that motherfucker, he was forced to leave. It had taken plenty of convincing, or so it had seemed, before Dominic finally stood up with a grunt and complained under his breath. That Everything’s alright? of hers was met by a huff and then a sigh, and eventually by a smile and a nod of the head on her friend’s part, before he patted her cheek twice and said his good-byes.

“Should we follow him?” she asked as she stared at Dominic’s silhouette disappearing behind the cars in the parking lot at the entrance of the park. He seemed to stomp his feet even from that distance, and she wondered what Jäger could have said to make him act like a child.

“Nah, we can go for a walk of our own.”

And before she could reply, he had her hand in his and they were strolling along the pathway, passing by a bunch of kids playing on the slide as their mothers chatted together.

“You know, he really loves you.”

Lost in her thoughts, and in the way Elias’ hand seemed to envelop hers and make it disappear, she hummed, eyebrows furrowed when she turned her head to stare at him.

“Dominic,” he explained. “He’s always bringing you up. We could be doing anything and he would go Lyuda this or Lyuda that,” he chuckled. “I don’t know what you’ve done, but you’ve got him wrapped around your finger. He really loves you,” he repeated, just to be met by her laughter.

“Oh no,” she shook her head and inadvertently tugged on his arm as she walked up some steps. “No, we don’t do love. We’re just really good friends, that’s all. I’ll confess that we did some things in the past, but we’re not into each other like that. I have his back no matter what, and he has mine. We fuck around, but we don’t fuck around. He’s the best friend I’ve ever had.” She was grinning, and when she turned around to gaze at him, standing three steps below her, she found him staring at her with a soft smile on his face that almost made her blush. “And don’t tell him, but when he’s drunk and in a particularly good mood, he’ll say I’m his best friend as well. Not a ‘homie’, a ‘best friend’.”

And that made him chuckle. It was a nice sound, and she found herself holding her breath for a couple of seconds as she watched and listened to him. She didn’t do love, but maybe — just maybe — she could do him.

“You’re like his best-kept secret,” he confessed after a while, walking up until he was on her same step before they both proceeded forward. “He’s always babbling and babbling, just like a kid, but if you ask him something, he’s all Not your business, stay away from her. I didn’t expect for him to invite you to Marius’ birthday party, but I’m glad he did.”

“I didn’t expect to accept his invitation, either.”

“How did he convince you?”

“It’s a long story.”

“Well, if we’re walking back to the Base, I have quite a bit of free time,” he grinned.

*

It was a week later when it first happened. Her mother would call her names — she’d call her worse things if she knew her daughter had been on her knees with a man down her throat just less than twenty-four hours after getting close to him —, but it didn’t seem to matter when he seemed to be on her same page.

“I fucking hate that bitch,” Lyudmyla groaned out, a moment before Elias managed to tear a moan from her.

He had a skilled mouth — and his fingers felt… like fucking heaven, she wouldn’t lie, but at the same time the night had started on the wrong foot and now she couldn’t zone out and focus on him only. Lain between her legs, he was going down on her like only few ever truly did and although she could feel him — and enjoy the things he did —, she couldn’t erase the noise of the world around them.

His chuckle distracted her, though, and when it became even clearer that she was too worked up over something that had happened, he slowly moved up her body while his right hand kept on lazily fingering her. “What happened, Myla?” he whispered against her neck before peppering kisses over her warm skin. He was the only one that called her that. She was Lyuda or Lyudka; Tima called her ptichka, for he sometimes painted little birds for her, and at home she was Lyudochka. However, Elias called her Myla and although they had truly been in each other’s lives for a little over a week, she loved that already.

But right now, she could feel him against her thigh, through the microfiber of the towel he had wrapped around his hips, and although her blood was boiling in her veins, her body still arched up against him. “That fucking bitch,” and she gasped when his fingers brushed across a sensitive spot inside her, “thinks she can make salty puns about me. Call me —” another gasp — “Russian Ice Queen just because I— God.”

One hand cupped the back of his head, while the fingers of the other gripped his hip and if it weren’t for that towel, he’d have the crescent-moon shapes of her nails marked into his flesh. “‘Just because you’ what?”

But she was too close to her climax to think straight, and that thumb of his toying with her clit didn’t help her cause. Her toes curled and for a split second, as she spat out Monika’s name as though it were venom and added an insult for good measure, the only thing she could think about was tearing both her shirt and her bra off her body and riding Elias into the next morning.

“Myla, you’re too smart to let her get to you.”

He hid his face in the crook of her neck when she came. Her back arched and her fingertips pressed into his flesh, and he suckled on a hickey right on her pulse point until she came down from her high. His damp hair tickled her cheek, but it was the gentle rocking of his hips against her thigh that brought her back to the reality of his room.

When she opened her eyes, a minute later, and made the conscious attempt of trying to calm her panting down, she found him propped up on an elbow gazing down at her. His fingers were still gently circling her clit and, barely aware of the whiny whimpers that fell from her lips, their touches — and the orgasm they had provided — had completely wiped her brain clean.

Her hand came up and although it was still trembling, her grip on the back of his neck was firm when she pulled him down to kiss him. “Fuck me,” she whispered then, lips moving right against his, eyes staring directly into his.

He was so beautiful, she found herself noticing. So beautiful and yet, still rugged around the edges, and the longer she held his gaze, the more she felt herself falling for those eyes of his that always seemed to speak louder than words.

“‘Fuck you’?” he chuckled as he helped her up to sitting and made quick work of removing the clothes that still covered her upper body. “I’m going to make you forget all about Monika and her words for a few hours,” was the groan that followed, quickly followed by that hungry kiss that almost made her eyes roll into her skull as he laid her back down.

Good God, she felt herself burn — on fire probably didn’t even come close to describe the feeling. His hands were insistent on her body as he kissed her sanity away, and he grunted and huffed from his nose when he pushed his hands underneath her buttcheeks and pressed himself against her.

She gasped when she felt him nudged against her throbbing core, through his towel, and her hips bucked up against his. Breathless, deafened by the pounding of her heart in her ears, she couldn’t hear the lewd things he was groaning against her skin as he kissed her neck, and then down her collarbones and between her breasts before he pushed up on his knees again. Her eyes remained fixed on his, for she knew that if she let her gaze wander lower down, she wouldn’t be able to be as still as he wanted her.

“But first I’m going to make you come,” he smirked, making her move up the bed a bit as he lay down on his stomach between her legs. “Again.”

The whine that came up her throat when he licked up between her folds made her skin tingle, but it was that groan of his as she tugged on his hair that made her moan.

Lyudmyla had always been used to quickies more than anything else — a quick fuck in the common showers after training, or in the back of a truck, or behind one of the buildings back at the base in Stepnoy. And she had never minded, not even once, because while the time spent off-mission could get boring at times, there was always something to do. But the sounds that left Elias’ lips… Bozhe, she would go insane in his room, doing any kind of stuff with him, really, because his grunts and his moans — God, his whines of pleasure — tugged at her skin and at her heart, at her fucking core, and she could never seem to get enough of him.

He made sure to moan against her every time he went down on her — eleven times in the past seven days, two of which only that night — and really, it was as though he knew the effect he had on her, how much more quickly pleasure crept up on her when he was vocal. Two of his fingers pushed into her at once, then, and as she tugged almost a bit too harshly on his hair again, his eyes peered up at her and she read his smirk in them more than she felt it around her clit.

Her thighs tensed, and she huffed out a fuck when her head fell back and her sight set on the ceiling of his room. Fuck — she desperately wanted to be loud for once, because those two fingers of his curling up inside her and brushing against all the right spots made her insides twist and knot, her breathing grow quicker and labored. And before she knew she was close, her thighs tensed on the sides of his head and her back arched almost painfully as she came again, this time a bit more intensely, as her system seemed to reboot and the air got trapped in her lungs.

Lyudmyla did have men between the moment she and Dominic had stopped going down on each other and the moment she had found herself on his knees with Elias’ cock in her mouth, last Sunday, and during that year time in-between, she had considered her best friend to be the best oral she had ever had — and that she would probably have. But as she tried to slow down her heart, close as it was to going off inside her chest, and to even out that same breathing she had lost all control over, she found herself thinking that nobody even came close to this man that had managed to make her open up like no other.

“You still with me?” he mumbled against her breasts, before he took a nipple in his mouth and suckled gently, tearing yet another moan from her. She almost twitched when he patted her clit once to grab her attention, and the chuckle he let out made her skin crawl as she whined, eyes still closed shut. “Myla,” was the hum that followed, and the way he drawled out the first syllable made her smile and exhale loudly from her nose as she tried not to giggle.

“Yeah,” she panted, hands coming up blindly in search of his sides. “Yeah.”

“I’m going to go down on you again,” he said, and the seriousness in his voice made her eyes blink open all of a sudden. His upper lip was glistening in the warm light of the lamps on either side of his bed, and she found that if only she had the strength to, she would prop herself up on her elbows and lick her juices off of it. “That’s right,” he smirked when he realized he had her full attention. “I’m going to eat this pussy out again,” and he punctuated his intentions by moving an arm back between their bodies and tracing her opening with his calloused fingers. “And then —” he kissed her — “I’m going to fuck you into this mattress.” The heel of his hand pressed against her clit and she gasped. “Is that alright with you?”

He’d stop if she said no — she could read it in his eyes, behind the firm tone of his voice. They had never talked about boundaries and invalicable limits: things weren’t serious between them despite the considerable amount of time they had spent between each other’s legs in the past few days. But as she looked up in his eyes, she knew that was how things would go.

“That’s very tempting,” she answered honestly, but she also felt that if he were to go down on her again, right now, she would break in the best way and she’d never be able to leave his room before someone — Dominic or Tima — went looking for her. “But,” and she tugged at his towel so that it would come loose and she could throw it to her left and discard it once and for all, “I want this.”

He was hard in her hand, and the protruding vein on his underside called for her thumb.

“Please.”

His smirk turned into a grin and then into a chuckle, and his head bowed down until he could playfully nip at the tender skin of her neck. “How do you want it?” he asked; his hips unexpectedly bucked in her hand and she gasped out a moan. “Slow and sensual?” He kissed the side of her breast. “Or fast and hard?”

Lyudmyla swore she could feel her heartbeat everywhere in her body, deafening her again, making her breathe out burning hot hair from her nostrils as she stared up at him and thought of all the ways she wanted to have this man. “Fast and hard,” she panted out. “I don’t want to feel anything else.”

He pulled up on his knees, and the smirk was back on his lips when he reached out for the bedside table to her right to fetch a condom from a drawer. “How are we doing this?” he asked as he rolled the latex down on his erection, not once taking his eyes off of her, intent as she was, staring at his hand wrapped around his cock. “No strings attached?”

“No strings attached,” she whispered back, spreading her legs for him as one of her hands reached down between them. And while ‘no feelings attached’ sounded just fine at the moment, with time she would find out that that suit would grow too tight on her.

*

She had been assigned to a five-week mission — the duration could change depending on how things would go, of course, but by the looks of it, it was clear to all of them that it would be time consuming any way it went. If anything, she had worked with Bandit and Tachanka more times than she could recall, and she had trained plenty of time with Maestro, during simulations. The fact that Blitz was the only attacker had unsettled him at first, even though the one they would be leaving for very soon was a defensive mission, but she had seen Lady double as an attacker had partially eased his doubts — jack-of-all-trades-style, the Italian used to say.

“There are men here ready to get us in,” Bandit was saying, pointing at a point in the map that looked like the perfect place to fall into a trap. That was the unsettling thing, walking at the bottom of a canyon with people up there that could shoot them like targets at a funfair. “We all know how to kill, our positions in the organization are merely a formality.”

“If we follow this plan, though, we’ll be in the open. This Trojan horse mode won’t work. It’s not that I don’t trust you,” Blitz clarified, “it’s just that I’d rather us be more than just five.”

Lyudmyla sat back against her chair, tired out of her mind after the round after round of simulations they had just come out of. “We’d all like that,” she sighed. “I’d rather be in the belly of a carcass than do this undercover bullshit,” and she answered to Sanya’s glare with a glare of her own. “But this is easier than it may seem, you just have to play the part. Being a mercenary isn’t that hard: there’s always someone out there ready to pay for you, just as there’s always someone out there ready to be bought. RAINBOW has money to throw into this plan, and we have the expertise these people are looking to buy. We go, we play whores, and if anything goes wrong, we have our green card out.”

“What you seem to forget,” Elias rebutted, “is that we’re not mercenaries.”

She exchanged a look with Alexsandr, who tried to suppress a smirk at the other end of the table with the holographic plan of the map, and then turned towards Dominic. “Bandit worked undercover. Tachanka took part in some… sketchy missions in Russia, I’d dare say. My brigade has done things, as well. If there’s one thing Spetsnaz selections taught me, is that even those who look incorruptible bend the knee in front of the prospect of money.”

“The lady is right,” Adriano intervened.

“Watch your mouth, M,” she glared, but there was a smile on both of their lips.

“I mean it with the utmost respect, tesoro.” He turned back to Elias, then. “We’d still be doing our job, just… on the other side of the barricade. These people don’t know what RAINBOW agents look like. In their eyes we,” and he pointed his gaze on each of them, “are just more men they can use. They’ll have no reason to have doubts about us if we are the ones bringing in the Governor with handcuffs on his wrists and a gun pointed at his head. Then, when they’re dead or in shackles, we’ll take the Gov back out and to safety. Easy peasy.”

Lyudmyla was still thinking about Adriano’s words two hours later, when she left the training gym smelling like the body wash she had stolen from Sanya. She still had no idea how Six had managed to convince the Governor to play this scheme, nor what strings he had moved to even come up with the plan in the first place. And as she walked towards the firing range, shielded by the late-April rain, she decided she didn’t want to know. She was there to do her job, not to ask questions. She had committed the mistake of asking Volkov questions, the first time her Commander had sold her services as part of a mission, and she had learned not to fall for the same mistake again.

The shooting range was loud when the door closed itself behind her back. Shots ricocheted off the walls, although deadened by the partitioning wall that separated the actual range from the corridor of the control booth that led down to the armory.

She wanted to see Elias eye to eye — to talk and maybe do something else before they left the next morning before sunrise. She knew from experience what too many worries before a life-or-death-situation kind of mission could do, the breaches they could open. Her unit had lost two of theirs during her first year as a purely Spetsnaz agent, and four had risked losing a limb or something more, she included. So if there was anything she could do to ease his mind, she was ready to do it.

Elias was standing in booth number three — his lucky number, or so Dom had told her once, when she had asked him why his friend always booked the same one. The Brits were recharging their weapons in their booths at the far left end of the range, and Sanya sent her a smirk from his position at number one before he hung a new target sheet on the target carrier.

She leaned on the partition that separated booths three and four, though, and smiled when the German turned his head towards her. His expression was unreadable, but she almost had the impression that part of the tension he still carried inside eased at the sight of her.

“Wait for me in the control booth,” he told her as he pressed the call button for his target holder. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

A nod of her head, and then she was gone without a word. She waited for him as he had asked her to, and in the meantime, she tried to come up with comforting things to tell him. But no matter how hard she thought, she couldn’t come up with a single thing that wasn’t it’s all going to be okay. She knew they’d come back alive — probably not completely unscathed, but that risk came with the job. She just wished he could see it the same way.

Lost in her thoughts, she jolted when someone touched her shoulder and when she whipped around, she let out a breathy chuckle when she saw it was just him.

“Look, I didn’t want to offend any of you before,” he started before she had the chance to open her mouth. “And I trust all of you. You’re the only one I’ve never worked with before, but Dominic has and he’s only ever spoken highly of you, on or off the field.”

“I’m not here to tell you off,” she replied as she followed him towards the armory. She had already been in the Germans’ sector, but out of respect she still turned her head the other way when he punched in the code to unlock the door. “I came to tell you that it’s all going to be okay but…”

They both chuckled and he sat down on one of the benches when he put his electronic head muffs in his locker.

“Yeah, I know, not exactly the right job for those words.”

She smiled, hands placed on either side of his face as she stood between his legs. “I had a friend in Stepnoy that used to say that those words bad luck,” she snorted. “I don’t believe in bad luck, but I still can’t bring myself to say them.”

He mirrored his smile, and as she watched his lips stretch sweetly, he seemed to finally fully relax. But before he could say anything, her eyes went as wide as those of a kid in a candy shop.

“Oh my God!” she squealed. “Is that your shield?”

Her hands turned his head to the side to prompt him to turn around. He had used a normal shield during their simulations as a way not to blind his colleagues, but she had wished to actually see it with her own two eyes ever since she joined the team two years ago.

His laughter seemed to ring in the closed space when he nodded his head yes. “You can touch it if you want.”

And what had come out as an accidental double meaning turned into some form of lewd foreplay as they sat there, talking about anything and nothing at the same time. Elias always had some pun on the tip of his tongue and was always a pleasure to listen to.

Some time later, as her hand had almost moved over the crotch of his pants to unzip the fly and his had been between her panties and the crotch of her joggers, the Brits walked loudly in and they barely had the time to resume a less compromising position that they passed by their box. A few more minutes and when they walked back, Mike popped his head in. A You’re the last ones here, lock the door when you leave later and he was gone, his heavy footfalls echoing in the armory as he ran after his friends.

“I had an idea before they walked in,” Elias muttered, eyes still trained on where Thatcher’s head had been mere seconds before. When he turned around, he had a telling smirk on his face and really, she didn’t need to hear it, but she wanted him to be dirty and say it out loud.

“What kind of idea?”

“The one where I fuck you against one of these walls.”

And just like that, his hands were on her hips, tugging her forward from where she was sitting straddling the bench to right between his legs, her thighs made to rest directly over his.

“And I want you to be loud,” he groaned, head coming down so that he could nip the skin in the crook of her neck. “To be as loud as you want before we leave in less than twelve hours.”

She laughed, and before she knew it, they were both standing up and he was tugging her pants and underwear down her legs as soon as she had taken her shoes off. Then, she was in his arms, legs wrapped tightly around his hips as he walked her towards the wall, coming to a stop right next to his shield, still facing the door from where she had left it. Then, he kissed her.

And right then, the undeniable truth was, Elias Kötz was a damn good kisser, and she had spent the last almost two months learning just that. No strings attached he had said — but he cradled her face in his hands and kissed her breath away every time and while yeah, she could definitely do casual, she always found herself looking forward to the moments she spent with him. 

When his lips skimmed along her jaw and went back down to her neck, as a way for both of them to catch their breath, one of his hands moved between her legs and she let out a long moan, deep in her throat.

“What got you so wet?” he hummed, breathing hard against her cheek. “My shield? Or my puns?”

She huffed a laughter. “What else did you expect when you started casually telling me all the things you wanted to do to me?” He let her pull his head back, her fingers tangled in his hair, and the kiss that followed muffled the moan his fingers pushing into her elicited.

“So you like it?” he asked when he pulled back and her hands were finally unzipping his pants and taking his erection out of his briefs. “When I say I want to take you in the armory?”

He was inside her in a heartbeat. Her neck arched, and her head fell back against the wall at the sudden sensation of fullness that tore a whimper from her very soul.

“Or when I say how tight you always are around me?”

He thrust up again, hands moving to her buttcheeks to keep her as close to him as he could.

“Tight and warm,” he groaned. “Always so wet, I can never stop thinking about you, lyubimaya.”

She panted his name, neither of them fully aware of the way he had just called her. Her hands were on either side of his neck and she did try keeping her eyes open and locked with his, but the drag of his dick inside her was making her see stars as he stretched her open.

“When we come back,” she breathed, “we’re gonna do it nice and slow.”

“We can do it any way you want, Myla,” he breathlessly chuckled as she felt him start twitching.

He was pushing her up the hill that would take her to her orgasm and as she fulfilled his wish for her to be loud and dragged him with her towards his finish, only Elias heard the sound of heavy steps coming their way.

“Keep your eyes closed,” he moaned in her ear when she squeezed down on him and one of his hands came up to her eyes.

The flash went off right when she reached her orgasm and blinded by pleasure as she was, her mind barely able to process the fact that he was still thrusting up into her, his movements now curt and sloppy, she didn’t even notice he had activated his shield, nor did she hear the plaintive groan of Alexsandr getting blinded.

A few moments later, when the intruder had left the armory, Elias grunted his release against her lips as she held his face between her hands. His came to plant themselves firmly on the wall on either side of her head and the hold of her legs on his waist tightened, and as she automatically contracted around him, they both moaned in unison.

They stayed in that position for a few minutes as they both tried to catch their breath, their hearts still beating wildly against each other’s chest. Then, he laughed — a hearty laughter that made her chuckle for a moment before she simply rested there, a satisfied smile on her lips as she cradled this wild man’s face in her hands.

“What are you laughing at?” she asked, voice faint and still breathy.

“Someone will think twice next time before sneaking up on Blitz having sex next to his shield,” he snickered.

“Someone saw us?”

“The only thing we flashed them was my shield, don’t worry.”

He pecked her lips and stared at her in content silence for a moment longer before he pulled out slowly. When she hissed, he pecked her lips again.

“I want to take you somewhere nice when we come back,” he said when they left the building where both firing range and armory were. He had an arm thrown around her shoulders and she was pressed into his side as she tried to keep both shielded under the umbrella.

She moved her head against his shoulder and looked up at him. “Yeah?”

He hummed in response. “We could go climbing. Marius has told me of a place. It’s a trail for experienced hikers, but the view at the end is a nice and secluded place.” Then, his smirk was back on his lips and his next words made her chuckle before she pushed him under the rain. “You could climb me when we get there.”

:) I love these two :) and I love Lyuda and Dominic’s friendship :) hello mtv, welcome to my crib trashcan

[ Original pic used for the banner: https://www.pexels.com/photo/pink-flowers-photograph-1083822/ ]

TAGS (to be added to or to be removed from any list, shoot me an ask)

Everything: @idhrenniel @saibh29 @fuckthatfeeling @aya-fay @pebblesz892  @mblaqgi​ @becs-bunker

[softest-cinnamon-roll]

come sit on my lap for reddie please!

Your wish is my command! (notsfw ahead!)

read on ao3

* * * * *

For Eddie, working at the local coffee shop down the street from his dorm seemed like a perfectly good idea at the time. It was close by, it allowed him to work flexible hours and he was offered all the free coffee his heart desired. At first, it really was the dream job. He got to meet new people and improve on his social skills on a daily basis.

That is, until the customer from hell made it his mission to make Eddie feel like was the size of a pea.

It all started on a Saturday, a few weeks since he took on the job and his first Saturday on the lunchtime rush. Everything had been going smoothly until Daniel showed up. Daniel was an asshole in every way shape and form. He was the son of a lawyer, and because of this, believed that the world revolves around him and everyone had to stop what they were doing the moment he stepped into the coffee shop.

As it was Eddie’s first Saturday shift, no-one had thought to warn him about Daniel, and therefore he wasn’t prepared for when the man roughly grabbed his shoulder when he was in the middle of speaking to another customer. Long story short, Daniel had berated Eddie for not being at the till the second he walked in, and he screamed right in his face in front of all the customers.

It wasn’t until after he had gone, huffing and puffing about ‘crappy service’ that the other girl behind the counter told Eddie all about Daniel and his rudeness. She also told him not to take anything he says to heart, as he is just what some people call a ‘Chad’. Eddie had been so confused he’d left work and gone straight to his boyfriend Richie’s place and asked him to explain.

Once he knew exactly what the girl was talking about, Eddie had to agree. Daniel was definitely a Chad.

Eddie firmly believed that that was that, and the next time Daniel came in he would just be on his toes. However, it seemed as though Daniel had other plans, and the next time he came in it was with the most complicated coffee order. For the life of him, Eddie could not get it right and Daniel didn’t hold back on his creative insults, both to Eddie’s face and to the other customers that were coming in and out of the coffee shop.

After that, it became a regular thing. Every Saturday that Eddie was working, Daniel would come in and have a new and inventive method to get under his skin. It was really starting to wear Eddie down and affect not only his school life, but his relationship with Richie.

This Saturday was just like no other, except this time, Daniel had attacked him about his personal life, not just his coffee making abilities. He had ranted about how useless Eddie was and how he was surprised that he had any friends, never mind someone to have a serious relationship with. After all, who would want to date someone so useless?

That hit a little too close to home for Eddie, and he had to excuse himself into the back of the coffee shop to calm down. The manager, who was working that day, came through and told him that he could leave early, as what Daniel had said was out of line. Eddie hated that they couldn’t do anything, as he was still a valued customer who brought in a lot of pennies.

At first, all Eddie wanted to do was go home, have a bath and cry, but the more he thought about it on his walk to his apartment, the more he actually didn’t want to be alone. He wanted to be with Richie. So he turned on his heels and headed to the subway station, sending his boyfriend a message to let him know he was on his way.

Coming over, feeling a little…edgy - Eddie

The reply was instant.

It’s like you read my mind Eds, see you soon! - Richie.

When he walked into Richie’s apartment, he didn’t even have to say anything for Richie to know what was wrong. This time though, Richie wasn’t in the mood to sit and talk about the asshole from Eddie’s work, and Eddie wasn’t either. As he stepped into the living room, Richie patted his lap, a smirk on his face.

“Hey baby, come sit on my lap?���

Eddie let out a sigh and dropped his stuff by the door, crossing the room and climbing into Richie’s lap, letting their lips come together softly, at first, before it turned dirty. Richie’s hands moved under Eddie’s work shirt and pulled it up, aiming to remove it. With a giggle, Eddie lifted his arms, allowing Richie to pull the shirt off and toss it onto the floor to be dealt with later.

“Eager hm?” Eddie asked and Richie just silenced him with his lips, licking into his mouth, their tongues moving together in harmony. Eddie loved kissing Richie, the feeling of their lips always sent shivers down his spine, no matter what. Richie’s fingers had moved to his pants now, fumbling to undo the button.

As soon as the button was undone and the zipper tugged down, RIchie dipped his hands down Eddie’s pants and his boxers, wrapping it around his already hardening cock, smirking at the soft gasp that escaped Eddie’s lips. “I have the blue balls baby,” Richie breathed into his ear. “We haven’t been down and dirty in what…four days?”

A flush rose up on Eddie’s cheeks as Richie started pumping his cock, thumb flicking over his head every so often to make him whimper with need. His boyfriend was right, it had been a little too long since they’d been to bed together, and it was clearly showing in their frantic moves to get some action. “Y-Yeah,” he breathed, eyes falling closed. “S-sounds bout right…”

“I can’t go four days without getting a dicking baby,” Richie cooed, quickening his movements. “You should know this about me already.” Eddie just nodded, his breathing becoming heavier as Richie picked up the pace. He wasn’t going to last long, and it seemed that Richie didn’t care. “I want you to come like this Eds, fuck you need it. Then, I’m going to take you to bed and ravage you so the only thing left on your mind is my cock inside your ass.”

“Oh fuck,” Eddie gasped, his eyes rolling backwards as he surged forward, caputuring Richie’s lips. A few pumps of his boyfriend’s hand and he was coming like a fucking teenager into his underwear. He rocked his hips into Richie’s hand, riding out his orgasm until the sensitivity set in and he collapsed against his chest. “Jesus fucking christ,” he panted.

Richie laughed, “Not jesus baby, just Richie.” Eddie suppressed a groan and Richie moved to stand up, ready to carry him into the bedroom for the second part of the evening.

Yes, Eddie might still have to deal with shitty customers at work, but as long as he had Richie to come home to at the end of an awful day, he was sure he’d survive.

* * * * *

@richietoaster @tozier-boy @eds-trashmouth   @fucking-reddie @strange-reddie-loser @eds-kas @propertyofthelosersclub @its-stranger-than-you-think @yes-dillman-yes @totaltozier @reddietofall @reddietofight @reddie-to-fight   @reddie-eddie-spaghettie @bitchbrak @reddieways @maximusfraker @jem-carstairs-is-perfection @thejadeazalea @reddie-eddie-spaghetti @halfway-happy353 @ellomello16 @liliemm @tinyarmedtrex @cacti-cool @inthebreadbinwrites @kat-ships-everything @takeourpure @lo-v-ers @mrs-vh @studpuffin @s-s-georgie @reddie-for-anything  @trashmouthtozierr @richietoizer   @girasol-eddie @bi-bi-richie @honeybeehanlon @mars-14 @reddiesetandgo @marsisaplanetyall @xandertheundead @sedanleystanley @hawkinsbabe @beepbeeprichiellc @stellarbisexual @oldguybones @ripeddiekaspbrak @captainbartholomew @purplepoisonedgem @reddie-to-cryy @pink-psychic @violetreddie @fuzzylogik @queen-sock @appojoos  @moonlightrichie @rreddies @disneyfan567 @annxmatron @lifesucksheres20bucks @anellope @roobarrtrashmouth @are-you-reddie-for-it​

[ebullientbun]

Don’t Be  A Deuce Bag

Starring: tennis!Jin x Reader Genre: mildest angst if any, fluff, friends-to-lovers!au Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: someone gets hit in the balls, slight swearing, lots of tennis jargon A/N: this is originally for the Sports!AU August prompt by @btsboulangerie, but I had a feeling that I won’t be able to finish it in time yeet

Summary: You and Jin are doubles partners, though you dream of being more than that. But doubles partners communicate, and Jin has been giving you the silent treatment. You need to get to the bottom of it. 

The general public would always see tennis as some sort of elite sport, a hobby that rich people enjoy  in their free time if they weren’t on a golf course. But they never consider the level of strategy, technique, and effort that goes into playing a match in competitive tennis, thinking that it’s just for players needlessly grunting as they hit the ball or dramatically falling into a split running towards a fast ball. But you found it to be more than that.

You found a home with the people with you on the tennis court. You’ve made your first friends in high school with these people, driving to and fro from away matches to all day tournaments. You’ve spent countless hours at dawn or late at night practicing drills with each other. 

And you’ve discovered your love to be on the court. You first joined the team not expecting much, already knowing that you’ll be accepted onto the team since they were in constant need of female members, but you genuinely created a unique bond with each and every single one of them. 

Not too long after your singles match, you plop down on the bleachers next to your best friend, Sooyoung. Snatching your fourth fruit snack packet from your tennis bag, you begin fueling yourself with sugar as you watch the other ongoing matches. You brighten, nudging Sooyoung on the shoulder. “Oh my god, look at Taehyung over there, third court”. 

She turns, squealing excitedly. “He’s wearing a headband! Ugh, he’s so hot.” She leans forward to read the scoreboard, squinting. “He’s losing against Jimin, though.”

You hum. “Somehow, being frustrated is low-key making him hotter.” You watch as he wipes his forehead with a towel before tossing it on the bench; you sigh longingly. “I’d let him eat my ass like a cupcake anytime.” Sooyoung giggles at your comment, playfully shoving you in embarrassment. 

“Can you not talk about our opponent like that? You’re rooting for the wrong team,” a voice sounds from behind you. 

Kim Seokjin. Your doubles partner since you’ve joined the team and made you fall in love with the game. Instead of going through the motions, you felt a combination of excitement and anxiety during every match with him because he’s made it something to build yourself for.

You whip your head around, glaring at doubles partner. “Mind your own business, Jin. It’s legal to thirst.”

He rolls his eyes, before paying his attention back to the match on the first court. 

Your relationship with Seokjin was nothing short of incessant bickering. You first got to know each other when you were filling up the team’s water jug as a newbie, and upon struggling to hold it up as it got heavier, he had come to the rescue to help out. Your coach saw the both of you as an opportunity for a mixed doubles team, since none of the other members wanted to be part of it and you both were getting along well.  You both gave it a shot - having a position from the coach is better than being benched.

He easily gets on your nerves. He’s a gentleman, yet has a hankering of complaining. When you aim a ball too far and it lands out, suddenly he’s a know it all and tries to correct you for it. But when he makes a mistake, suddenly it’s the wind’s fault! You have to admit, he did help you with your form when you struggled with your backhand stroke back then.

All of that is tolerable when you consider the amount of synergy the both of you have on the court together. While you’re known for dominating at the net, Seokjin was known for keeping long rallies at the baseline. Was he garbage at the net? Sure. But you’ve been mixed doubles partners for the past couple years and have figured out a routine that worked. Playing with a different partner never interested you when you both knew each other’s playing styles so well. 

That, and you had a small crush on him. Only a teeny one.

You offer him one of your fruit snacks, and he happily plucks one from the pouch. “Which court are we playing on soon?”

Seokjin nods towards the other section of courts, “Court 7, after Jeon’s finished playing.”

“We have a good advantage then, he’ll be too tired after the singles match to have enough energy for our match right after,” you comment. 

Seokjin scoffs, “As if. He’s a powerhouse; he’ll just chug a Gatorade and go back at it again.” 

“Who’s his partner again?”

“Yerim, I think.”

You groan. “No way, I hate that bitch! I just played her in singles and she slices every other ball.”

Seokjin hums pensively, “At least we have that advantage of how she plays.”

You nod, crumpling up your now empty fruit snack pouch and tossing it into the trash can. “Yeah, we’ll be fine.”

.             

Things were not fine. 

As Seokjin predicted, Jungkook was a monster and did not resist holding back slamming the ball towards you every time. It’s a dirty tactic to aim solely for the female opponent, but luckily for you and your partner, you were more fearless to his fastballs. 

What you did not expect was cheating. 

Your match is on the third set, both sides tiring out with a close score. Seokjin and you are in the lead 4-3. Currently, Jungkook is serving to Seokjin, while you are positioned near the net. Seokjin had been rallying cross-court with Jungkook for a while, but the angles were too wide for either of you or Yerim to poach from the net. With quick strategy, Seokjin abruptly rallies the ball straight, into a wide open area that Yerim, expecting another diagonal rally, fails to block. You figure it’s a clean win on the point, but Yerim holds up her pointer finger in the air.

“Out.”

...What?

Both you and Seokjin freeze. Mid high five too. You snap your head towards her. 

“...That was in the line.” You walk closer to her at the net. 

“No,” she argues, “it was close but it landed outside the double lines.” She crosses her arms and walks over to the area near where the ball landed and points with her racket at a spot out of bounds.

Oh, hell no. She didn’t even see where the ball landed, she isn’t even facing towards it. 

You gape in disbelief, turning towards Jungkook. “Are you sure?” 

Jungkook bites his lip, looking from you and Seokjin to his partner, before replying, “Yes.”

The audacity. You could feel the steam coming out of your ears. You are this close to childishly throwing a tantrum and asking for a referee, but you stop upon feeling a firm grasp on your shoulder.

“Whatever you’re thinking, don’t,” Seokjin mutters, glaring at them for good measure. “We are not going to stoop to their level if this is how they want to play.”

“This is the third time she’s called one of our ‘in’ balls ‘out’, and we’re just gonna sit here and let that happen? Your ball was obviously within the line,” you hiss. You want to smack that snooty look off her face.

Seokjin furrows his eyebrows, frustrated as well - most of the balls Yerim called were his. “Play fair and stay calm. We don’t want to make rash mistakes and slam the next few points into the net.”

You take in a deep inhale, before huffing. Offering your doubles partner a stiff high five, you get back into position for the next point.

Jungkook serves the ball to you, noticing how you rally back but don’t approach the net immediately as you usually would. He subtly starts closing towards the net, but you internally smirk - he was going to drop a short ball on your side. 

As expected, he slices the next rally directly down the middle of the court, Seokjin frantically trying to poach the ball but missing. But you’re ready.

“Mine!” You rush towards the net, and with all of the pent up anger inside of you, you slam a forehand ball straight at Jeon Jungkook’s crotch. 

Without enough time to react, Jungkook fails to block the fast ball and crumples to the ground. “Oh fuck!”

Yerim gasps, running to him and hollering for a time out. Jungkook, in all of his beautiful and wincing glory, lays in a fetal position in the middle of the court.

You turn your body away from them so they don’t see, but more importantly so Seokjin can see you. “For you, Jin,” you wink at him with a smug smile on your face. 

Seokjin, who had mild concern for the poor boy, stares at you in bewilderment. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” Then, he bursts into a chuckle and offers you a low fist bump. “That's my girl.” 

If you had known any better, you would think that his eyes were twinkling in the slightest bit. Your heart, in addition to the adrenaline, flip flops excitedly at the endearment. 

.

In the end, you both still lost.

It wasn’t too surprising, but you both still had hope that by hurting Jungkook to his friend downstairs, you would have an advantage by winning only two more games. But, no. It appears that it just fueled the rage monster that unleashed within Jeon Jungkook and you lost three games in a row. Nonetheless, you and Seokjin took it in stride, already accepting upon walking onto the court that a loss wouldn’t be too bad as long as both of you did your best. Seokjin seemed just fine when you both walked off the court after the match to report to your coach. 

.

However, now, Seokjin is a brat to you. 

It’s a regular practice day, and instead of doing warm up laps around the courts with you like he normally does, he elects to chat next to Irene instead. 

Ok, sure. Whatever. Not like you were obligated to warm up together, you suppose. You slow the pace of your lunges until Sooyoung catches up with you, falling into pace with her. 

Sooyoung, despite heaving from trying to pick up the pace with the rest of the team, cocks her head in your direction. “Oh? Why aren’t you with Seokjin?”

You shrug, sparing a glance in his direction before sighing. “I don’t know, maybe he had something to talk about with Irene.”

Sooyoung frowns, nudging you on the shoulder with her elbow. “Then don’t pout, it’s probably nothing.”

You’re about to respond when your coach blows his whistle, indicating to everyone to warm up with a partner for half court rallies. You turn and begin to walk towards Seokjin, but you pause once you see him completely ignore you and beeline straight for your team captain, Jung Hoseok.

Hoseok’s eyes widen in surprise when Seokjin approaches him, nodding carefully while briefly holding eye contact with you as Seokjin speaks with him.

“Uh,” You turn back around, grabbing Sooyoung by the wrist, “can you practice with me today?”

Sooyoung furrows her eyebrows, frowning further upon seeing your doubles partner head towards a court with Hoseok to practice. “Sure.”

As if that wasn’t weird enough, he was in a mood during the practice games as well. He didn’t even acknowledge you when you sought him out, only following you on the court as you played against your teammates. You tsk when he brushes past you to place his water bottle on the benches. 

If he wasn’t going to talk to you, you’re just going to act like nothing is happening. 

But that was becoming increasingly difficult. He wouldn’t talk strategy with you, much less offer you a high five between points, and it was messing up your flow in the game. You missed more of your serves than usual, even your second serves. Seokjin would look increasingly annoyed whenever you miss a ball, and you’re already hanging on a tight leash. 

Seokjin is getting ready to serve for the next game, and he calls your name before passing you an extra ball to hold. You try to decline, but he’s already thrown it your way. 

“Jin, can you just roll this ball to the corner?”

“Just keep it in your pockets like earlier?”

“In my pock- I don’t have pockets, Jin!” You yell back, throwing the ball back at him. “Female uniforms don’t have pockets.”

Seokjin squinted. “If you don’t have pockets, how are you holding the extra ball?”

You scoff, “We are not as blessed to have long pockets like you guys, so we stick it in our underwear!” You gleam upon seeing his face go from irritable to mortified. “That’s right, the tennis balls you’re touching? Probably has female sweat from being lodged between our hip and our underwear all the time. But guess what!” You don’t even give him time to respond. “I forgot to wear decent underwear, and unfortunately, a g-string does not hold the ball in place, so I’m having a bit of a hard time running around with a ball sliding down my shorts!”

Your teammate across the court clears his throat. “Uh… can we continue the game?” 

You hold a finger in the air, “Yeah, one sec.” You turn back to Seokjin, feeling more angry as you look at him. “And if we did have pockets, they wouldn’t even hold the ball properly. So don’t you dare complain to me about not wanting to hold the extra ball for you while you serve, you privileged asshole! I don’t know why you’re cranky today, but either talk to me about it or don’t take it out on me!”

You huff, turning back around and standing in position at the net, swallowing in awkwardness at your argument with your doubles partner. Regardless, your other teammates also slowly get back into position and the game continues with a tense atmosphere.

.

You catch Hoseok at the end of practice trying to lock the courts while juggling the box of tennis balls in his other arm. “Hey, Cap! Let me help.” You jog up to him, grabbing the box from him as he finishes locking up.

He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly, “Thanks. I could’ve set it down but for some reason I was making it harder on myself.”

“All good, see you tomorrow at practice!” You hand him back the box and prepare to head for the girls’ locker room when you feel a tug on your shoulder.

“Actually,” Hoseok starts, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about Seokjin.”

You bristle, “And what about him?”

Hoseok looks at you pointedly, “don’t give me that look. You know as my duty as team captain I have to keep you all in check, but I’ve been getting a couple of comments from some teammates that you’ve both been fighting a lot lately.” You want to interrupt but Hoseok stops you with a glare. “I know it’s none of my business to enter into people’s affairs, but this is making some of the members uncomfortable, hell, I’m uncomfortable because I don’t like practicing with Jin. That lobbying bastard.”

You chuckle, knowing how much people aren’t used to rallying with him like you’ve been for the past few years. 

Hoseok smiles, “Just talk it out with him. Please. You can probably catch him since he’s just gone to the locker room. I don’t want to have to seek you out again, but I will if I have to.”

You jokingly salute at him, making your way to the locker room again. This time in a bit of a hurry. “Aye aye, captain.”

.

You pace quickly up the stairs to the locker room, hoping that Seokjin hadn’t gone home already. Just as you reach the top, you catch him leaving the boys’ locker room at the end of the hall. “Jin! Wait up!” You perk up once he stops in his tracks, jogging faster towards him. “Hey,” you pant slightly, “can we talk?”

Seokjin quirks his mouth to the side, thinking pensively for a moment before nodding. 

You fall into step with Seokjin, trailing beside him as the both of you walk towards the exit. It was silent for the first few minutes, but those minutes were killing you. “Okay, I’m not gonna beat around the bush, why were you ignoring me today?”

Seokjin scoffs, unsurprised by your frankness. “I’m not ignoring you.”

“You’re not-oh don’t be a fucking liar now,” you hiss. “You didn’t do the warm-ups with me and you were being especially crabby during practice.”

“If anything, you’re the one that’s being crabby.” 

You gasp, “you have the nerve. You know what I’m talking about.”

Seokjin groans, readjusting the tennis bag strap on his shoulder. “Look, I can make buddies with other people on the team, too, y’know?” 

“This was different,” you whine. “What did I do wrong?”

Seokjin stops in place, forcing you to halt and stare at him. “Do you consider me as a friend?”

“Of course,” you reply immediately.

“But… only as a friend?”

Your heartbeat stops briefly. “Wh… what do you mean?”

Seokjin stands there, un-answering but intensely holding your gaze. You want to avert your eyes elsewhere, feeling too overwhelmed by his stare and the possible meanings behind his words. You nearly combust on the spot when he slowly raises his hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. 

You sputter, “D-Do you…?”

Seokjin smiles sadly, placing his hand back in his pocket. “I guess you could say I was jealous earlier.” Upon seeing you frown in confusion, he continues, “Before the other school left the other day, I saw Taehyung exchange numbers with you. And you… you seemed pretty into him. It was a bit frustrating to see.”

Your mouth was left gaping, opening and closing like a fish. He was jealous? So that meant, he likes you? Or does he not like your fraternizing with the enemy?

Seokjin sighs at your silence, turning to begin walking again. 

You’re stuck in place, trying to absorb this new information. But wait, he’s gone out the door. You haul ass to chase after him. 

“Wait!” You holler at him, even though he didn’t gain that much distance from him. “Stop!”

Seokjin groans loudly, “What do you want from me?” 

You catch up to him once again, tugging on the sleeve of his shirt. “You like me?”

Seokjin shakes his head, and you think you might cry on the spot for somehow misunderstanding him. “I can’t believe I have to confirm with you when it is so obvious.” He leans forward to flick you on the forehead. You whine, clasping sadly at your unnoticeable wound. “Yes, dummy. I like you, and I was so sure you felt the same way, but I guess I’m wrong.”

“EH??” You’re feeling a lot of emotions all over again, but on the bright side, you’re glad that the main one is happiness. 

Seokjin scratches the back of his head, unsure if your reaction to this new revelation is good or bad. “Well, Hoseok told me that maybe you just exchanged numbers as friends, so I chilled out.” He starts to fiddle with the zipper on his shirt. “But then I overheard you talking to Irene about him outside the locker rooms. I asked her earlier if you were like, serious with him or something. And she just laughed in my face.” He pouts at that.

You almost laugh, almost. “I do, though. Like you, I mean. I exchanged numbers just to do it, but I didn’t have any real feelings towards Taehyung. At least not like the ones I have for you…” It feels weird to say out loud, and you feel like your heart is pounding way too hard in your chest. You aren’t even looking at Seokjin at this point, but aimlessly staring at trees. 

You yelp as you’re harshly tugged forward, darting your eyes to the hands that grasped yours and then to the owner, who has a beaming smile on his face.

“Come on,” Seokjin chuckles, pulling you to the direction of his car in the parking lot. 

“Where are we going?”

“Our first date. I know you have nothing better to do.”

You almost kick him in the shin for that. Almost means you attempted, but his long legs maneuver too fast for you to keep up. Seokjin laughs boisterously, dodging your attacks.

Although fake-upset at him, you smile along with him, intertwining your fingers together.

[fireblaze5555]

Fire Away: Chapter 2

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24934339/chapters/60690790

Pick Up Your Sticks and Your Stones

Summary: Frank catches up to Karen and bickering ensues.

Karen wasn't sure how long she had been staring blankly at the infomercial on the small tv in her shoe box motel room. If the crick in her neck was any indication, it had been awhile. She had a slight feeling of nostalgia take over, remembering being a kid, sick on the couch watching these ridiculous ads when she couldn't sleep. Reminiscing of her childhood never really put her in a good head space so she quickly tried to redirect.

Though thinking about her current situation wasn't exactly a good head space either.

She had been on the road for hours today, not including the past three days she had been traveling by bus, cramped into a window seat and trying not to look paranoid. She finally had landed in a mid-sized town somewhere in central Indiana, it was nondescript enough to make her feel safe to stop for a night at least but didn’t stop her from eyeing every corner or passing cars with suspicion. Shifting around a bit, she grunted at the effort it took to move her limbs, they felt like lead weights. Karen hadn't felt this bone tired since she left home and ended up alone and scared in New York.

"Okay Karen, let's not go down that particular memory lane shall we..." She muttered before running a hand through her limp hair. Karen hadn’t mustered up the energy to shower yet but she sorely needed one. She convinced herself she would take one once the program was over so she sat up against the headboard and took another minute to watch the mind numbing infomercial about some 'incredible' duct tape.

Letting out a long breath, realizing this wasn't going to help her situation Karen pulled out her newly purchased pawnshop laptop and began trying to organize her thoughts. If she couldn’t make herself get out of the bed, she would at least get some work done while she was there. After receiving the letter from Fisk, Karen hardly had time to plan and while she traveled all of her focus had been on making sure she wasn’t being followed. It took a moment to prop herself up in a comfortable position, the days of bus travel had not been kind to her abused ribs, her torso a lovely watercolor of purples and blues at this point.

Once she was situated, computer in her lap and notes scattered around her, Karen did what she did best, began digging into Fisk's case again, looking for the overlooked information. She was exhausted from looking at his details and honestly, it felt like a useless venture.The man kept slipping through the system and ending up stronger on the other side. But her investigative abilities and tenacity were all she had at this point so she had to make the best of it.

She thanked whatever gods may be that she had remembered to grab what hard copies of his files she had at her apartment on the way out as she looked over the details of one of the many court documents spread across the mattress.  She wouldn't be able to access anything electronically without the possibility of being tracked. Every detail of every file was burned into her memory but she continued to scour them, there had to be something they missed.

She was so engrossed in her work that the light knock on her room door had Karen's heart nearly in her throat. She quickly grabbed her .380 from the nightstand and stood, safety off before she had much chance to think about it. Slowly, with nearly silent footsteps she crept across the room and leaned into the door, staring intently through the peephole. It was a man, that much she could tell. Broad shoulders with a deadly stance. Which, if he was there for her, could be very bad news. His face was tilted towards the ground, hidden by a baseball cap and she saw him reach up and wrap his knuckles on the door again.

Aiming her gun directly at the man's chest through the door, Karen took a steadying breath, forcing the tremor from her voice and tried to sound pleasant, "Who is it?".

The man looked up, directly into the peephole with a small smirk, the rumble of his voice hit her in the chest as the sight of his dark eyes made her lightheaded.

"Housekeeping."

Karen wanted to be amused, she did, but all she could feel was an alarming mix of relief and anxiety.

Frank Castle. Frank fucking Castle. How the hell had he found her? How had he even known she was gone? They hadn't spoken since the hospital room and she hadn’t so much as caught a glimpse of him in that time. That had been well over a year ago, so why, on God's green earth, was he standing outside of her dingy motel room in the middle of nowhere Indiana while she was on the run?

She saw him shift on his feet, his eyes still trained on her as if he could read her every move through the door. Karen wouldn't be surprised if he had xray vision at this point.

"Are you gonna to open the door or am I gonna to have to pick the lock?" He said, his voice was low and while the question may have been meant to be said jokingly, she could tell he was deadly serious. Shaking herself free of her stupor, Karen slid the chain off the door and flipped the locks, taking one more second to steady herself before jerking the door open.

For a moment they just stared at each other, both trying to pretend like they were unaffected. She noticed he had a fading bruise over his right eye, a couple days worth of stubble and a small cut on his lip. He wore a regular black t-shirt over dark jeans and she noticed with the barest of a smile that he had on the usual combat boots. Overall, he looked way better than the last time she saw him. Wouldn’t be hard to beat the battered mess he had been at the time though. Frank's gaze slipped from her face, taking the rest of her in, scanning her just as she had done him, before his eyes settled on the gun in her hand. She did her best not to shiver at the approval she saw in his gaze.

"Fancy seeing you here." She gave him a pointed look to go with her dry tone, "You're a long way from New York."

Gesturing with her .380 for him to come in, Karen quickly closed the door and replaced all of the locks before turning on the standing lamp in the corner and placing her gun safely on the nightstand. She watched warily as Frank looked around the room, eyes resting briefly on the scattered papers across the bed before turning back to her, looking far too casual for the situation they were currently experiencing.

Karen was absentmindedly wringing her hands as she watched him, still trying to discern his purpose for being here and how the hell he had found her. She was also battling the annoying feeling of relief and the low thrill of seeing him after so long. Finally,  she just raised her eyebrows and pinned him with a look, hoping it would be enough to get an answer out of him because she sure as hell didn’t trust her voice right now.

---

Standing outside the dirty green door of room 56 had Frank more nervous than he had been in ages. He worried what state he would find Karen in, had she been attacked already, been injured? There was also the bit where he had told her he didn't want her a year and a half ago and now he was standing outside of her door, that didn't help his nerves. But her safety would come before his comfort, always. So he knocked on the door.

He didn't hear anything but, just like always with Karen, he could feel her eyes on him through the door. Karen’s gaze was always like a brand, burning accountability, forgiveness and truth into his skin. Always truth. He kept his head down, feeling an itch in his trigger finger, typically an indication that there was a gun pointed at him. He wasn't sure if revealing his face would make it more or less likely he would be shot, so he settled for knocking again. It took a second but he finally heard her voice filter through, strong and feigning nonchalance, "Who is it?" God it felt good to hear her. Without thinking he gave a lame line, looking directly into the peephole.

The air around him grew thick with anticipation. Which quickly turned to impatience on his part, "Are you gonna open the door or am I gonna have to pick the lock?"

It didn't take long to hear the telltale clicks of the locks and before he had time to prepare himself more, she was standing before him. Frank locked eyes with her for a moment before letting his eyes trail down her, checking for any sign of injury. He vaguely acknowledged how strange it was to see her out of pencil skirts and business attire. A fleeting thought  that evaporated as he took in her long legs encased in light jeans and the loose fitting t-shirt swallowing her lean frame. At a glance someone might think her skinny and fragile but Frank knew the power hiding in that lithe form. Finding no injuries his eyes settled on her hand clutching her firearm, a prime example of how powerful she could be. Fierce approval ran through him, she was ready to defend herself and it calmed his nerves a bit to see her ready to fight if need be.

He was brought out of his reverie by her comments then stepped inside after she made a vague gesture. He watched her lock the door again and move to a lamp in the dim room. He did a quick scan of the layout, noting a hastily packed bag, a beat up laptop and files spread across the bed. All in all, it was very much Karen Page. His gaze finally settled on her again, she looked exhausted, pale blonde hair hanging limply around her shoulders, blue eyes dark with weariness and her usual straight shoulders had a slight bend to them. But fuck, she was still so beautiful to him.

Frank watched her hands move restlessly and he didn’t miss the question in her eyes. She looked on edge so he kept his voice as light as he could, though the sarcasm was still heavy when he spoke, “Quite a vacation spot ya got here. Plan it yourself?”

She stopped for a moment, eyeing him before she dropped her hands to her hips and gave him a small lopsided smile, “Well I thought about the Bahamas or maybe London but they are so overrated, ya know? A run down motel in the middle of nowhere, cornfield and cattle as far as they eye can see is much more my speed. ”

A laugh huffed from his chest before Frank could stop it. He had nearly forgotten her quick wit and equally sarcastic humor, even as exhausted as she looked she didn’t miss a beat when firing back at him.

She turned serious though, pinning him with a pointed stare, her voice thin and quiet as she asked,  “What are you doing here Frank?”

He wanted to banter a bit more, just enjoy listening to her talk for a few more minutes, her voice like a balm on his battered soul but he supposed the coming argument was going to happen either way. Rather than answer her question, he fired back with his own, "What the hell were you thinkin', Karen?"

She looked shocked for a moment before her features hardened to meet his, replying curtly. "I'm not sure what you mean." Karen crossed her arms defensively over her chest, a sure sign she was going to give him hell.

Giving a quick shake of his head, Frank drug his bottom lip through his teeth in frustration, "Don't do that. Don't do that, Karen. You know exactly what I mean." Looking at her once again he was simply met with raised eyebrows and defiant expression. "Fine, I mean you just up and leavin’, without a word to anyone. I mean, you jumping buses from New York, zig-zagging through all the states in between there and here. Indiana of all fucking places. Do you even have a plan? Or did you actually think it was a good idea to grab a bag and throw yourself out in the open as an easy target?"

He hadn’t meant to unload on her like that but the past 24 hours had been an exhausting mix of worry and dread so he found it difficult to control his temper. When Frank realized his voice was rising he made a conscious effort to reign in his anger, settling for a low growl, "You should have told me you were in trouble."

Karen was dragging in quick agitated breaths by the time he was finished. A storm of emotions playing over her delicate features that had him bracing for impact.

When she finally spoke her voice was sharp but steady, each word rising in volume, "I didn't tell you, Frank, because it wasn't your problem to deal with. My life is not your problem."

His jaw gave a violent tick at that comment but she continued, "You have your own business to handle, my problems aren't for you to fix." If he clenched his jaw any tighter he may break some teeth. Frank takes a sharp intake of breath, preparing to respond but she wasn't finished, "You made it very clear at our last meeting that this" she made a vague gesture between them, "is not something you wanted. I do have some pride you know. Besides, it is something I got myself into and I will get myself out of it.”

Suddenly her rage was fading into guilt, her voice losing its firmness in favor of a small tremor. “I am done with getting the people around me hurt because of my mistakes."

Frank clicked his tongue, shaking his head. He paced as much as the tiny room would allow, trying to shake the sharp pain in his chest that her reminder of their conversation in the hospital room caused. This wasn't the time to allow himself to think too deeply on that, "So what, you run to middle of nowhere Indiana and hope the shit doesn't follow you? Someone isn't right behind you to kill you? You're just gonna live off the grid, pay everything with cash and a fake ID for the rest of your life, huh?" He saw some of the fire return to her gaze, good, he could hold his ground better if she was angry too, "You should have called me Karen, I could-.."

"Called you?" Her voice was full of incredulity, "With what number Frank? Hm? I guess I could have reached out to you through one of your associates," she gave a derisive, short laugh, "Oh wait! I don't know any of them! I didn’t even know for sure that you were alive . So please, tell me how I was supposed to get in touch with you?" He remained silent because, well, he's kind of an idiot. Of course she didn't have a way to contact him, he had made sure to extricate himself from her life completely.

She wasn't finished, the anger that had just returned began to melt away, much to his horror, into devastation and panic. She was the one pacing now, her hands going from her hair to gesturing wildly, "I KILL people Frank! Not like you, no, I just make all the wrong decisions and then people die, not including the people I have actually killed with my own two hands." She's gasping for air suddenly like she had been running uphill for miles, her hands held into fists at her sides. He felt his eyes widen in shock for a second before she pressed on, "I didn't ask for help because I am tired of people dying around me, because of me, and not being able to do anything about it. Even if I had a way to contact you I wouldn't have done it. I have seen you survive so much," He took a hesitant step forward when a choked sob escaped her lips, "but I just knew if I involved you in this it would be your death warrant and I will not allow that. God knows my fucked up shit could kill someone as indestructible as you!"

Frank was at a loss. He had never seen Karen so wrecked and he didn’t know where to start to salvage this situation. His heart wrenched with every ragged breath she released, tears leaving shining tracks on her cheeks and her shoulders shaking with the effort to keep herself together. She took an unsteady step back when he reached for her and Frank was ripped open by her despair.

---

Spots were starting to dance in Karen’s vision. Damn it, having a panic attack in front of Frank Castle was the last thing she wanted to do right now, or ever for that matter. Nevertheless, every breath she tried to take got stuck and it was getting harder to push words past the lump in her throat.

"I hurt people Frank, I act like I'm there to help but in the end I just....ruin their lives. If they are even lucky enough to survive.” Her voice was strangled and thick and she just wanted to lay down and forget everything.

“I ruin things. That's what I do..." Her words cut off in a choke as she heard her father's words echoing in her head, 'That's what you do Karen', with his screams in the background like a morbid chorus as he hunched over her brother's broken body.

The world grayed out around her and she didn't remember hitting her knees, the only thing Karen could focus on was the burning in her chest, where all of her buried demons were clawing their way to the surface. She is vaguely aware of the scratchy carpet rubbing her legs raw as something is gently rocking her. Still, she couldn't seem to get her world back in focus. Her father's words kept blaring in her ears and the faces of people dead because of her swam in front of her vision. Their voices shouting her every failure so loudly she was afraid she may go deaf from it. Hoping she would so she could finally have some peace.

Karen felt herself being shifted and cradled against a solid wall of warmth. Soft lips moved against the skin of her temple as she was tightly tucked into Frank, her forehead pressed to his neck. She tried to focus on his skin pressed against hers, his rough hand running up and down her arm.

Her hearing slowly returned to Frank muttering assurances into her temple. His voice was warm with a softness she hadn't yet heard from him, "Hey, it's alright, I've got you. C'mon, don't cry, breathe, Karen."

Cry? Is she crying? She absentmindedly touched her cheek and felt the tears cascading through her fingers. She thought she was breathing but with a hiccoughing gasp she realized he was right about that too, she was still barely taking in any air. Self loathing hit her hard, how could she be breaking down in front of Frank of all people. This man had been through more than she could ever dream of and she was crying like a child in front of him. She tried to push herself to her feet but he didn't give an inch. Karen didn’t know how to accept comfort anymore, she was used to falling apart alone, a bottle of whiskey the only glue she had to hold her pieces together.

Frank shifted her around, forcing her to meet his eyes, bottomless and impossibly dark, full of concern for her. Gently, he rested his forehead to hers. This was familiar, it grounded her like the assurances couldn't and calmed the maelstrom of her thoughts. No, there wasn't smoke, shrapnel and blood in the air this time but her adrenaline and panic were just as high.

His hands were speared into her hair on either side of her head, holding her to him, his soulful eyes willing her to hear him this time, "Karen, breathe." With a shudder she pulled in a lungful of air, ignoring the sharp pain it caused. Quickly followed by another. She began pacing her breathing to his and after a few minutes she felt nearly human again. Nearly. She isn't sure how long they sat like that on the dingy motel carpet but he continued his patient swaying as she continued to collect herself.

Her voice was hoarse when she finally did speak, "I,um...sorry about that. It's been a long few days. I think it just caught up to me."

Frank’s eyes searched her face as he let her pull back a bit but he didn’t let her leave completely, putting a gentle hand on her back and resuming the soothing rubbing of her arm. Karen allowed him to keep her in place, she was completely drained and couldn’t have put up much of a fight anyway.

Eventually she did pull away, rising unsteadily to her feet. She went to move past him but Frank was on his feet before she could go far, snagging her hand and pulling her into a tight hug. The smell of strong coffee and metal filled Karen's senses and it seemed like such a fitting thing for Frank.

Against her better judgement she sank her chin into his shoulder, wrapping her arms around him like she did so long ago, swaying in her living room when he briefly popped back into her life. For the first time in days she felt safe and it made her want to curl up and sleep for hours.

He didn't comment on her breakdown or what she said, much to her relief. He just gave her one last light squeeze before stepping back to a safe distance. She felt that almost physical ache she got every time she felt him moving away from her whether physically or emotionally. It made it hard to meet his eyes but Karen was determined to get past this moment of weakness with what dignity she had left.

Lifting her eyes she met Frank's with steely determination. Her breath caught when she saw what looked like admiration and pride in his gaze instead of the pity and disgust she expected. It made her heart swell in her chest but she didn't have time to appreciate that for long before he was being contrary again.

---

Frank  felt pride swell in his chest when he saw Karen take a deep breath, square her shoulders and lift her gaze to meet his head on. Not that he had the right to feel pride. She's not yours asshole, you don't have a claim on her . Still, her crystalline eyes burned with determination and a grit he rarely saw in people and he had worked with some incredible soldiers. He felt exalted just to be in her presence. Karen was no shrinking violet, she wouldn't let this world break her and it only made the affection he felt for her spread through his body at an alarming rate. If Frank was honest with himself, 'affection' was an inadequate word for what he felt but he shoved that thought down as quickly as it came up. No time for that, they had to make a plan.

He started to open his mouth but snapped it shut when a loud growl came from Karen. In an instant he saw her go completely red and wrap an arm around her stomach. Frank tried and failed miserably to hide his amusement when he raised his eyebrows at her.

"Let's get some food, then some rest and we can start planning from there." He said when she continued to act like her body hadn’t just betrayed her. Karen gave him an exasperated look and seemed ready to give her whole spiel again.

Holding up a hand, Frank spoke as softly as he could, not wanting to set her off again so soon. He'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy their occasional spats, Karen never took his shit lying down and it was refreshing to battle from time to time without the guns and blood. Frank did love the thrill of the fight and Karen never disappointed. However, she was still teetering on the edge of panic and desperation and he didn't want to cause more damage, "The subject is temporarily closed." Her gaze turned mutinous, "C'mon Karen, we could both use some food and rest, at least I know I could use it. When was the last time you ate?"

The question made her pause, Frank raised an eyebrow as he watched her think and gave a low chuckle when her delicate brows pulled down in concentration, "If you can't remember, then it is definitely time for you to eat. Let's go."

He could see her still trying to decide if she wanted to put up more of a fight, staring down at the carpet. Frank leaned in, looking up at her through his lashes to catch her eye. When he was sure he had her attention he muttered with a smirk, "Greasy diner food for old time's sake?"

It had the desired effect, her lips quirked up slightly and then quietly, her voice still thick from her tears, she said, "How could a girl turn down greasy diner food?"

Taking the small victory, Frank gave a lopsided grin before carefully stepping around her and opening the door to step out into the evening air. He had parked his van in the back of the small lot with the purpose of monitoring the motel and ensuring it was the right one in his search for Karen. They made their way across the small lot and he guided Karen to the passenger side, opening her door for her, smirking to himself at her dubious perusal of his vehicle. "I know, it's not exactly a Mercedes but it means we don't have to walk to food."

She looked over at him with raised eyebrows, "I think the fact it isn't a Mercedes is the least of its issues, Frank."

Snorting and closing her door, Frank glanced around the lot for any threat before he climbed into the driver's seat and set off in the direction he remembered seeing options for food. It was around midnight but he was sure something would be open.

It turns out, small-town Indiana didn't have much in the way of all night diners. In fact, their options were Denny's, an option Frank ixnayed quickly, Waffle House or McDonald's. So they found themselves tucked into a corner, sole occupants of a garishly lit Waffle House. Not quite what Frank was hoping for but it would do. They both ordered some black coffee from the tired looking waitress and perused the menu in silence.

Frank glanced up from time to time, noticing the way Karen's eyes moved over the options but never seemed to focus. He had so many questions for her but bit his tongue until they had both placed their orders. He’d made a mess of getting information out of her earlier so he needed to be patient. The waitress returned, taking their orders and topping off the coffee before yawning and returning behind the counter to help prepare it.

Taking a drink of his coffee, which was surprisingly better than he anticipated, he watched Karen wrap her long fingers around her own mug, cupping it in both hands as if to steal the warmth into herself. She took a drink and let out a pleasured groan that nearly made Frank choke on his own drink before he struggled to pretend that little noise didn't send a shiver down his spine. Her voice was almost dreamy when she said, "Maybe it's the fact I've only had water since Friday morning but this is the best coffee I've had in awhile."

Huffing quietly he took another sip, "I'll admit I didn't have high hopes for it but it's better than I expected." Sweeping his eyes over the restaurant, Frank leaned in slightly, pinning Karen with his gaze. She met his eyes for a moment and he knew she could read the questions in his visage. They never really needed words to communicate, it's why he always ended up spilling his guts to her. She could read his every move, every emotion, without so much as a sound from him. Sighing she set her mug down, smiling up at their waitress when she arrived to distribute their meals.

Frank didn't press as she poured syrup over her chocolate chip waffles and he started in on his eggs. She would start when she was ready and he really was hungry. She took a few slow bites and a long draw from her coffee before starting.

"Wilson Fisk gave me an ultimatum." It was quiet enough that Frank stopped chewing for a second to listen. He swallowed, his trigger finger tapping a rhythm on his fork. He had really been hoping maybe Fisk was not the one after her. Maybe a small time crime boss? An old boyfriend? Someone that didn't have all of New York in their pocket?

He sat back, running a hand over his face and when she didn't continue he asked lowly, "What exactly was the ultimatum?" Frank knew it had to be extreme. Karen was not one to run from a fight no matter the threat to herself, much to his dismay. Which means her friends had been threatened.

Another slow bite of waffles followed before she cleared her throat, pushing the plate away, "He said if I stayed in the city, he would kill everyone I cared about. But...if I left, let him hunt me down, he would just kill me and leave them alone. I think the idea is that he makes it look completely unrelated to him, so that his deal with M-Daredevil remains intact when I turn up dead." Her tone grew quiet as she saw Frank's expressive face go completely still.

For a moment, all Frank could feel was the sickening feeling he got when he thought about his family. The feeling of something he cared so deeply for slipping through his fingers forever. Futility was a bitter taste on the back of his tongue, Karen was supposed to be safe. That's why he distanced himself from her, so she could be safe. Was there really nothing he could do to keep the people he cared about from harm? Why the hell was the biggest Kingpin in New York out to get her?

He gave a gruff, "Thank you, ma'am," when the waitress refilled his coffee and left their check. It took him another moment before he could form a response. "I still think you should have called Red. He's an idiot, sure, but he would have kept you safe. At least safer than being out here on your own." Karen scowled at him over her coffee.

"I can take care of myself Frank. I told you, I'm done letting people get hurt because of me. The further away I am from the people I care about, the better. At least until I can figure out a plan." She gave him a pointed look as he tried not to think about the fact she lumped him in with the people she cared about, "Which is why, I am going to thank you for dinner, we are gonna go back to my room and YOU are gonna hit the road."

"Is that right?" He gave a short laugh and a shake of his head, "I tracked you for two days across twice as many states to buy you dinner and then head on back to the city?" The smile fell from his lips, "That's ain’t gonna happen Karen. You don't get to make that call."

That, apparently, was not the right thing to say. Frank watched a cool mask of rage come over Karen’s face and wondered if he had just fucked it all up.

[venactricisfics]

Malibu Desert

It was just supposed to be a workout.

A Mayans based Story Adult Content

Master List

Chapter Nine 

 “Are you going out like that?” Bishop asks as I bend down to tie my sneakers. I look down at myself wearing yoga pants and a crop top and hop up on the stool. 

“Yeah, just going to the yard to work out with Gilly,” I give him a confused look. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing? Do I need to change?”

“Are you comfortable, querida?” he sets a cup of coffee in front of me as he goes back to the stove to fry bacon. I nod. “Don’t change. You wearing that is just gonna make it hard for anyone to get any work done.” 

“Stop,” I chuckle as I take a sip from my cup, “No one but you looks at me like that.”

“Everyone looks at you like that,” he responds. “They don’t act on it because you’re my queen.” 

“Your queen?” I quirk a brow, slipping from the stool to make toast. I could successfully make toast without burning it.  That’s still cooking, right?  

“I’d never call you my ol’ lady,” he places the cooked bacon on plates and we sit together at his kitchen bar, “at least not to your face.” 

“That makes you a very smart man,” I peck his cheek, “Another reason I love you.” 

“No, it’s cause without me you’d starve,” he says back, giving my thigh a gentle squeeze. 

“That too,” I slide my arms around his neck from behind and give him another kiss before taking a piece of bacon from his plate. “I gotta meet Gilly in fifteen, see you at the yard?” 

“I don’t like the idea of you going out alone,” Bishop’s word’s stern. 

“It’s fifteen minutes.  Straight there, no detours, I promise,” I say. “You’ve still got to get showered and dressed.”

“I still don’t fucking like it,” he stated. “That shithead is still out there.”

“I know that more than anyone,” I grab my keys from the table by the door, “I can’t be watched twenty-four/seven. Yesterday I had to stop Coco from coming in the ladies’ room with me at work.”

“Alright,” he agrees reluctantly, “text me when you get there.”

As promised in fifteen minutes I shift my SUV into park and type out a text: 

"Now I'm thinking about you naked in the shower alone," I smirk and hit send. 

"That's not what I meant when I said text me. I've already got your ass in those pants on my mind. Be good. See you soon," he sent back. 

I send him a wink and a heart emoji then step out of my SUV. I give Chucky a wave as I cross the yard to the cage. 

"You ready, hermana?" Coco greats me.  He takes in my confused look. "Gilly is late. Asked me to get you started." 

“OK,” I drop my duffle by the gate mentally preparing myself for my lesson. 

“I was thinking,” he said, “you’re little, right? There’s no fucking way you can take down a huge guy by yourself.”

“You and Bishop aren’t exactly huge and you hold your own,” I state.

“Si, but we’ve been training for fucking ever.  Our fucking life made it where we had to from the fucking womb,” he said. “And we don’t have that kind of time. Imma teach you something that will fucking keep you breathing. And put the other asshole in the fucking ground.” 

I nod listening to him. I knew at my core he was right. There was no way a few days of learning how to kick or punch would stop Warren or any one of his men from doing whatever they wanted to me.  I could slow them down but just enough to piss them off. And then I’d still be running and hiding. Coco’s way was a permanent solution. 

“Take this,” he pulls his piece from the pocket of his kutte. “You ever shoot before?”

“I used go skeet shooting with my dad,” I hold the 9mm pistol in my hand studying its weight, “Nothing like this.” 

“The fuck is a skeet?” Coco asks.

“Clay target flung in the air. I was pretty good,” I curl my fingers around the butt of the gun letting testing how it feels.

“Rich white people making up shit to shoot at,”  he snorts a laugh, “that,” he motions to the piece in my hand, “you use that to put down a guy. Nothing fake about killing a man. You do what you gotta hermana. The rest of the bullshit fades away.”

I nod, “I get it. We’re not that much different. Life may have fucked us in different ways but we both got fucked. And now we’re here. You’re teaching me how to keep from getting fucked again. That’s something.”

For the next couple of hours, Coco taught me to hold the gun, aim, and shoot. Gilly arrived and showed me the best ways to take a guy down unexpected. Side and groin being the best targets.  Kicks would be far more impactful than a fist.  My legs are stronger than my arms. 

I move into the shade and take a drink from my water bottle and reapply sunscreen. Getting a sideways look from the guys. “Not all of us are blessed with caramel skin. Y’all should wear it too, melanoma is a bitch.” 

“Take your fair skin inside,” Gilly laughed tossing a sweaty towel at me. I wrinkle my nose and toss it back at him. 

I close my eyes, feeling the cool air hit my skin when I walk in the clubhouse. I didn't realize how hot it was outside until I savored the air-conditioned room. I reach my arms up in the air to stretch and then bend down and lift my foot to stretch the backs of my legs. I was a little sore. But nothing a few stretches couldn’t fix. 

"Fuck," I hear Bishop mutter behind me, "you are making it really fucking hard to concentrate." 

I glance back at him over my shoulder seeing that he’s clearly checking out my ass from his table with Taza and Hank, “I am not doing anything.” My lips tug into a slight smirk as I stand. I rather enjoyed the way he was looking at me. 

“You are doing plenty, querida,” he says back. “Come sit.” I give a gentle kiss to his lips before taking the seat beside his. 

“I didn’t mean to distract you,” I move my gaze between the men. 

“It is a welcome one, sweetheart,” Taza says. “Beer?” I shake my head, “Too early for me. I’ll take a Diet Coke if you’ve got one.” 

“Just regular,” he responds grabbing a can from the fridge. “I’ll put it on the list for the Prospect.”

“You don’t have to do that,” I open the can and take a sip.

“You’re here almost as much as we are,” he states, “It’s not a big deal.” 

I nod realizing just how much I was here. If I wasn’t hanging out with Bishop after a table meeting I was helping Chuckie with the yard books. Or EZ clean. I wasn’t privy to all the details that happened on the other side of the stained glass door. But I knew enough. 

“It doesn’t bother you that I’m here so much?”  

“Na, you class up the joint,” Hank responds. I shake my help with a smile. I knew he was flattering me. It was nice to have people.  For so long Warren kept me from people. I was isolated. And now I had freedom. I could be fully myself. And I couldn’t thank Bishop enough for that. 

My thoughts are interrupted by a bang and a loud crash from outside. Without another thought, the four of us push out of the clubhouse door. The noise was coming from the garage.  

“Mother fucker,” Angel lies on the garage floor as Coco and Gilly lift the bike off of him. I rush back to my SUV and grab my medical bag. I couldn’t stand idly by since there was something I can do to help. I drop to my knees beside him. My eyes quickly scanning over him and I shine a light in his eyes. Watching his eyes dilate.

“Doesn’t appear to be any brain damage,” I give him a slight smile, “well not much.” His pulse was racing, his breathing was labored. “Look at me, Angel. You’ve got to stay calm.” My hand moves along his side and find a screwdriver lodged in his side. 

“Fuck calm,” he grunts as he starts to get up. I shove him back, “Be still you moron.” I hold the screwdriver steady keeping the blood from gushing more. “You have a dislocated shoulder on top of a puncture in your side. It’s in there pretty deep. We really need to get you to the hospital.” 

“Just yank it out, Malibu. Give me a bandaid and a beer,” he groans. 

“And have you bleed all over my shoes, no fucking way,” I responded. “You don’t have to act all macho.  I know it hurts like hell.” I glance back as the guys surround me in a semicircle, waiting for instructions.  I lock my gaze with Bishop’s, “Bring my SUV over and put the back seats down. I can’t fix this here.  And I don’t want you dragging him through a dark, dirty tunnel.”

We hadn’t talked about what happens on the other side of the border, but I knew.  Not everything but enough. Some of the shit that happened they couldn’t explain in a traditional hospital. But Angel is legal and he fell in the garage. 

“Get him in the back,” I keep pressure on his side as Gilly and Riz hoist him up. I climb in as they load him through the hatch. I look down with a half-smile, trying to keep calm. But he was weak and the color was fading from his face. I meet Bishop’s eyes in the rearview and give a nod. “Hurry.”  

It felt like an eternity as we drove the few miles from the scrap yard to Santo Padre Memorial Hospital.  I had the ER on the phone and they were ready as my SUV pulled into the ambulance bay. The hatch opens and the ER doctors help unload him onto a gurney.  I was so focused on keeping my hand pressed to Angel’s side I barely heard the doctors and nurses telling me they got it.  

“You can’t come back here, Nova. Now let us work,” Dr. Ramos says as she takes over keeping the pressure on the wound. The warmth of his blood flowed through my fingers as I let go. They wheel him through the double doors.  I stop and stare after them relaxing only after I feel Bishop’s hands on my shoulders.

“Did someone call EZ or their father?” I wipe my hand across my face as I’m lead to the waiting room. 

“They’re on the way,” Hank says and hands me a rag to wipe the blood from my hands and face. 

“Thanks,” I slide my arms into the dark hoodie that Bishop offered then take a seat beside him.  I didn’t realize how much blood and grease was on my body until I slide the zipper up. I didn’t care how shitty I looked at the moment.  My eyes bounce from the nurses' station to the door watching as Felipe Reyes walks through the automatic doors. He’s met instantly by Taza and Riz. They explain how the bike fell from the lift and fell on top of him.  

I stand up when Ramos comes from the back.  I relax reading her expression.  I knew Angel would be OK before she spoke. He needed fluid antibiotics overnight and he would get to leave in the morning.  Take it easy for a few weeks.  EZ and Felipe are lead to the back to see Angel. 

“Take me home?” I slip my arms around Bishop’s waist. 

“Of course, querida,” his arms around my shoulders as he leads me out of the hospital and to my SUV.  I walked straight from the car through the house and into the bathroom. Bishop helps me strip my clothes from my body.  It wasn’t seductive, it was comforting.  I let him take care of me. He followed me into the shower.  The blood and grime rinse from my body and swirl down the drain. He scrubs my hair and body clean.

I settle with my head resting on his chest in my bed. We lay there quietly as he rubs my shoulder lightly with his thumb. The day had everything. Joy and Fear. I know above anything, that here is where I belong. I just say simply, “I love you.” Before closing my eyes. 

[lost-tanuki-tales]

Prompt fill - TDF

Oneshot Prompts Challenge: Loss of Control, Messy Cleanup. Word count: 2.9k.

"All right, Leonida. Are you ready?"

Leo nodded and held out her arm.

"Go ahead, doc."

"Subject #001, Leonida Trust, 34-year-old female. Test #056 of section #24-12. The goal is the calibration of the assault rifle located in the subject's left forearm. Deploy."

Leo made a fist with her hand and the smooth plates that made up her skin silently slid to the sides. A long metal rod gleamed in the neon lights as it sprang out of cover : the top of a rifle, from the receiver down to the muzzle.

"Load."

This was where the last tests had failed. Leo rotated her fist and felt the bullet click in place inside her arm.

"Hey, it works!" she yelled excitedly.

Doctor Whittler smiled. "Keep it down, Leonida. Now fire."

She twisted her wrist back in place and felt the moment the bullet was propelled forward. The force of it made her stumble back and the shot went awry, but the reinforcements beneath her skin and notably of her elbow joint greatly disminished the impact of the recoil on her body.

"Holy shit," she breathed.

"In position," called Doctor Whittler. "Your stance is unsteady, you can do better than that. You trained more than enough for this."

Leo retorted : "Yeah, well receiving the impact from the outside isn't quite the same as receiving it from the inside, now is it doc?"

She was ready to concede that the force that had been used in training had felt similar, but there was a big difference between stopping an oncoming blow with her palm held straight out and having it directly applied to her joint.

"How the hell am I supposed to aim steady like this?" she asked.

Doctor Whittler sighed. "Training, as always. I'm sure you'll get the hang of it. In position."

Leo complied without grumbling because she was excited to get this to work too. Both women had spent the night perfecting the weapon in her forearm so they'd have conclusive results to show the rest of the team. Doctor Nima and Doctor Rotuje were staring intensely at the scene and Doctor Legain was scribbling away on his little notebook.

"Deploy."

It took reaching test #112 three days later to complete basic calibration of the assault rifle. It took months for Leo to calibrate every part of her body, and a few years to completely master it. But it was worth it, she thought as she ran through enemy fire. She'd finally been deemed efficient enough to be tested directly on the battlefield. She had no breath to lose, and the hammering of her heart was a phantom feeling born from memory alone. Bullets wouldn't wound her like they did regular humans. Leonida was stronger, faster, had superhuman stamina. Like this, she could protect others.

There were many wounded but no casualties on their side when the battle reached its conclusion. Leo had managed to stop the bleeding for the three most grievous wounds. She was unsure whether the one with the head injury would ever be fit for combat again but he would survive, and for now it was the best anyone could do. She looked herself over. She'd taken a bullet but it hadn't hurt, and all that remained in the point of impact was a small dirty spot on her flank. Even though Leo's resilience to bullets of all kinds had already been tested she was always amazed at the durability of her skin.

Her first trial as an enhanced military fighter was deemed a success, and so she was sent out again. Sometimes she'd be used as backup for her medical abilities, other times as a one-man army. She could fight alongside comrades-in-arms in a warzone in the middle of the day or be part of a stealth unit at night. Leonida Trust had always been known as a good fighter but her many achievements pushed her up the ranks. Her versatility pleased the higher-ups and the next phase of Project MATES was greenlit whereupon five other subjects began testing and had their body altered in the same way. Things were going smoothly. Then, there was an incident.

"Targets acquired. Give me the all clear," ordered Leo.

"All clear."

"All clear."

"All clear."

"Roger," she murmured, and she raised both of her folded arms above the dirt she was using as cover.

One grenade would suffice but she needed to send the second one close after in case the first didn't land true. She focused on the group of three men hidden inside the flimsy shelter and readied her weapons to initiate the process, and then jerked her arms away at the last moment. The first grenade exploded in a huge pile of supplies way off its mark and it took all of Leo's concentration to stop the second from getting launched completely. A cloud of smoke rose from the burning stocks of food and alarmed yells started rising all around the enemy camp.

"What the fuck, Trust!" Werner's shout crackled on the radio.

Leo cursed. Two women and their kids had appeared at the window just as she'd triggered the launch and her reflexes had taken over. She'd made a worthless mistake and they'd lost the element of surprise as a result.

"Shoot before they move out!" yelled Mullins.

"Too late," Cantrell cut in. "They're dispersing."

"Move in, move in!" Leo barked, grabbing her rifle and jumping over the dirt mound.

Her legs propelled her forwards at a vehicle's speed and she was the first to get into shooting range of her targets. She lifted up the firearm looped around her torso and pulled the trigger, shooting down one of the enemy leaders and catching another in the leg. Leo heard a woman scream and children crying and calling for their mother. Her head whipped around and she saw that one of the women had been gunned down, and more men were coming out of the three surrounding shelters with aggressive shouting. She recognized Mullins and Cantrell standing a few yards away and had the time to see Werner chasing after one of the fleeing targets before something heavily collided with her back and she was thrown through the walls of the nearest hut. Only one coherent thought had the time to form in her mind while she was airborne, which was that whatever had hit her must've been pretty powerful to have sent her flying like this. Then she landed and smacked her head against the ground hard enough that the world flickered. Something above her elbow clicked almost simultaneously and she heard something metallic violently ricochet against the cracked earth a few feet away. Leo's eyes widened in the second it took her to realize that the control she'd had over her systems had just faltered in the moment she'd been stunned. She opened her mouth to scream a warning.

The explosion threw the sound of her voice into oblivion and she was blasted back, her body thrown across the ground and hit by flying debris. She rolled to a stop, ears ringing, head throbbing. Her face and hands burned and she was dazed for several seconds, trying to pull herself up and squinting at her surroundings. There were muffled sounds of fire around her, crackling and shooting, and she could guess that she'd probably gotten rammed into by the armored vehicle that was stopped in the exact spot she'd been standing in just a few seconds ago. Leo quickly got back to her feet and noticed she'd lost her rifle, but that didn't matter. Recovery was easier for her than it was for her human comrades and she lifted her right arm to shoot at the nearby enemies that were still standing. Leo saw the way their eyes widened when they realized the weapon was in her arm and that she wasn't getting wounded by the bullets they retaliated with; she was used to it, and she knew to duck just as they got the idea to shoot her in the head instead. They were too slow for her, she knew the way they'd react, had seen it countless times before.

"Fuck, Trust, what did you do?!" bellowed Werner from the side. He must've been closer than she'd thought, or maybe she'd been thrown in his direction by the blast.

"Shut up and stay alive!" she yelled back. Neither Cantrell nor Mullins were saying anything but it was hard to hear anything above the gunfire in her ears.

The grenade had wiped out nearly half the enemies when it had landed right in the middle of the small camp and incapacitating the rest took less than ten minutes. The harsh strafing fell away and was replaced by the softer sounds of human agony. Moaning, cursing, sobbing floated over the scene as blood spilled and spread out in puddles. Leo stared at the havoc they'd wreaked. Werner ran past her to one of the bodies laying on the ground.

"Shit. Shit! Cantrell! Miles!"

Leonida followed him on autopilot and saw Cantrell laying bloodied in Werner's arms. She knew it was Cantrell, not from his face which was so mangled it was unrecognizable, nor from his tall stature which was missing a leg; she knew it was him because one of his hands was half-open and his fingers limply curled around the the lucky charm he carried around in the crude shape of a four-leaved clover made out of clay. Leo knew it was so unrefined because a child had made it, because Cantrell had told them all during an evening they'd been allowed to relax and learn more about each other. Leonida had seen her fair share of dead bodies and lost many friends in battle and it never got easier.

"Fuck," Werned cursed in a choked voice. "He's dead."

Leonida looked around to find Mullins but there was nothing, not a single distinctive sign that could tell her which of the bodies on the ground belonged to the soldier.

"Mullins!" she shouted.

No answer.

"He got shot just before you threw that grenade," quietly said Werner. He laid Cantrell back down to the ground and got to his feet. "Fucking hell, Trust, what the hell were you thinking?"

Leonida stared at him. "Can you confirm the death of the target you were after?"

Werner's face slackened in disbelief, and then he roared: "You killed Cantrell!"

"Yes, and Mullins is my fault as well. This is all my responsability," she flatly answered. She could tell from Werner's reaction that there was no target left to terminate but she still needed to make sure. "This is an order as your superior: confirm the kill, Werner."

The man stared at her in horrified incredulity and eventually nodded. "Yeah, I... Yeah. He's dead. His body's over there."

Leo marched in the direction he'd pointed her to and found the target with three holes in his chest. He wasn't breathing. She then made her way across the battlefield to check the numerous bodies, kicking away the weapons that were too close to hostile hands, blocking out the sounds of children crying over their parents' bodies, and found her two targets dead as well. She also found Mullins' corpse riddled with bullets in the process.

Leo knew she'd caused this mass murder by not going through with launching the grenades at the three leaders when they'd been gathered in one spot. She knew Mullins wouldn't have died if she'd done her part of the mission correctly, so that they could've retreated afterwards like they'd meant to do. She knew it was her weapon that had directly caused the disfigurement and death of Miles Cantrell. They'd all known there was always a possibility to die in battle, but not like this. Not by friendly fire, not at the hands of a companion.

She turned to Werner, feeling nothing but cold and empty. "We have to clean up this place."

Werner was still staring at her with wide eyes that were equally revulsed and aghast. He was staring at her like he wasn't facing his captain, like he wasn't facing the talented and charismatic Leonida Trust, but a monster he'd never known existed until now. Sometimes Leonida really felt the part. She gestured to Cantrell.

"I'll handle him and Mullins if that makes it easier for you. You know what to do with the rest."

Werner's gaze flickered to the bodies that had now all ceased moving entirely. The scene felt surreal, two individuals standing nearly unharmed in the middle of a sea of blood, gore and corpses. Their unit often did dirty work but they were good at what they did and it had never gotten this bad. Now they weren't a unit anymore, just an unsteady half that would probably be pulled apart as soon as they returned to make their report.

The man pulled himself together with visible effort and gave a curt nod. "Yes, Captain."

He walked off to start picking up the enemies' weapons and Leonida searched for Cantrell's missing limb. Her feet squelched in the spots where blood mixed with earth that wasn't quite as dry to form red mud, and small pieces of flesh stuck to her shoes and clothes. Maybe some of it was Cantrell's. Leo felt a strong wave of disgust towards the slick mess of human matter on and around her and most of all towards herself. She ragingly swiped at her clothes with hands that stung from the burns the explosion had inflicted her skin and shook them free of the cold, gunky bits. As she continued searching her gaze then landed on a limb covered in soiled fabric, the bone jaggedly cut where it had been torn away. The dirt around it was streaked with blood. Leonida forced herself to come closer and crouched next to it. The hands that reached out to pick up the leg didn't feel like they belonged to her.

Leo carried it back to Cantrell and pulled up the soldier's body as well- careful to slip the clay clover in her own pocket first so that it wouldn't get lost- and dragged what had once been a friendly, calm and appreciated individual all the way back to where they'd left their vehicle. She gently laid Cantrell's body down and gazed at the flayed face. One of his eyes had been gouged out by the shrapnel.

"I'm sorry," she whispered to him. She felt so empty. There were a lot of things she wanted to tell him but it was all useless, and she wouldn't have expected him to be willing to listen even if he was hanging around as a ghost. She'd killed him. It had been an accident, but she'd killed him. In the end she just repeated: "I'm sorry."

And then she turned back around to go get Mullins' body, as well. She didn't speak again. By the time she'd wrapped both bodies in a tarpaulin, pushed them in the back of the vehicle and joined up with Werner, he'd gathered eight of the twenty-seven corpses on the edge of the camp. Leonida helped with the rest, dragging the red oozing bodies across the earth and painting it with large irregular strokes of crimson. The children seemed to have all been spared and they were huddled around the surviving woman, all of them silent and wide-eyed. The clean up was very quiet. Grim, tedious, messy, and quiet.

Werner and Leonida left the place while it was still night. The desperate screaming of the sole five survivors had started up again, but it was feeble against the roar of the huge fire at their back. The air smelled like burning meat and hair. The stench clung to their clothes and gear, and the vehicle was already filled with death when they got in. They didn't talk to each other, didn't look at each other. Leo apologized one last time as she drove her men back to the base. Werner looked outside the window and didn't answer.

Werner's testimony was in accordance with hers and it lead to the questioning of how far emotion and doubt could compromise a human weapon's efficiency. Up until now Leo's many successes had allowed the Project MATES team to soothe these concerns, but her mistake was the first step of its gradual downfall. There was another incident about a month later when one of the subjects accidentally discharged in Doctor Rotuje's stomach. Then a scandal involving Doctor Nima and unethical experiments exploded, and the researcher disappeared. With two of its head researchers missing and problems coming up one after the other, Project MATES lost fundings and was finally dropped in favor of continuing the development of android fighters instead. Leonida was still a MATES and so were the other subjects that had agreed to undergo the enhancement process, and it wasn't like they could go back to what they'd been before. They were kept in the army, each of them was assigned a military technician for repairs and reports who they were told they'd have to lug around for the foreseeable future, and soon after they were all sent on their respective missions.

This was how Leonida jump-started the fall of a billion-dollar worth project, fucked up her mental state even further, met the prickly Arkady Dragunin, and ultimately ended up getting sent to space alone with the guy.

(The Disaster Five are also on AO3.)