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arlana-likes-to-write · 2 years ago

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Reborn

Part 2 of Monet Issue by Chase Petra

Summary: A phone from your best friend alerts the Avengers of your disappearance. It’s a race against the clock to save you before it’s to late.

Warning: Torture, forced experiment, truth serum,

Word count: 3.6k

Natasha was surprised it took him this long to confront her in the weapons locker of all places. It was mid-morning on the day after you left. She was cleaning her pistols and fine toning her Widow Bites. They still had no idea when they were leaving as the information was still coming in. But it was still good to be prepared. “Romanoff,” Tony said. He leaned against the wall.

“Stark.” She didn’t look at him. She was still furious with the man but out of respect for you, she would be civil. At the end of the day, they were a team and they had to watch each other’s backs.

“I’m guessing you are upset with me too.” She loaded the bullets into her magazine. “This is probably the worst place to talk to the person sleeping with my daughter,” Natasha smirked.

“I’m not going to kill you.” She said. He laughed.

“Well, that’s a relief.” There was a silence between the two. “So how long have you been sleeping with my kid?” He finally asked. Natasha sighed, placing her guns. She faced the man. She knew a shovel talk was in her future but she didn’t expect it to be like this.

“8 months,” she answered honestly. There was no reason to lie.

“I’m guessing if I ask you to call it off you won’t.” She smiled.

“You could be correct.” Natasha took a step closer to him. Her arms crossed. She noticed he was becoming nervous. “Let me ask you something, Tony. Do you love Y/n?” She asked.

“Yes,” The man answered without hesitation. Natasha wasn’t surprised by that. She’s caught him reading every article he could find about you.

“Have you told her that?” He didn’t say anything but Natasha saw his head shake, no. “Let me make an educated guess here. Howard didn’t show any emotions, right? He didn’t spend time with you, didn’t praise you when you wanted him to, and didn’t tell you he loved you when in fact he did. Which makes sense because it was probably how he was raised.” She went back to her guns to put them away. “I’m not your therapist but to your surprise, I care a lot about Y/n. So stop the generational trauma and be the father she deserves.

“How-how do I do that?” He asked. Natasha has never heard the man so unsure of himself. She put her guns away.

“I don’t know, Tony, but I see the way you act with Peter. That fatherly instinct is there somewhere.” She had a training session with Wanda to get to but her phone ringing stopped her. She half expected to see your name on the caller ID but it was Taylor. The Black Widow had met your best friend a handful of times. “Hey Tay,” she answered.

“Is the Egghead still with you?” Taylor asked. Natasha smiled at the nickname but the smile was short-lived. She heard the sound of a car so Taylor must be driving.

“No, she left yesterday. What’s going on?” Taylor sighed.

“She didn’t show up for work this morning. I tried calling her but she’s not answering her phone so I thought she stayed another night at the compound and you and she were engaging in adult-related activities. Natasha rolled her eyes at that. She turned to face Tony, who was watching the Russian.

“Maybe she overslept.” That was unlikely but she needed to give another option besides the worst-case scenario. She heard Taylor turn off her car and slam the door shut.

“I’m at her place now and will dump cold water on her.” Natasha waited for Taylor to take the elevator to your floor and unlock your apartment. “Shit,” Taylor said. Natasha put the phone on speaker.

“Tay, what do you see?” She asked. Taylor was calling out your name, oblivious that Natasha asked her a question. She could tell Taylor was running throughout your apartment.

“Taylor,” Tony said. “What is going on?” The sudden voice of your father cut through her fog.

“She’s not here,” she said. “Her window is broken and her coffee mug is shattered. There is graffiti on her kitchen cabinets.” Natasha’s phone dinged and she opened the text message Taylor sent. Her heart stopped. She looked up at Tony. The color was drained from his face but his jaw clenched. HYDRA had you.

Your eyes slowly opened but you admittedly closed them as a bright light was shining down on you. A pain throbbed behind your eyes. You were so thirsty. You reopened your eyes and looked around the room you were in. It was a 4 wall room with a door. You were chained to a metal chair. An IV was attached to your right arm. You looked down at your chest and noticed CAM patches attached to a monitor of your heartbeat. The only sound in the quiet room was the quiet beeping of the heart monitor on your left. It was comforting to some extent. You tried to test the resistance of the metal chains but your arms wouldn’t move. No matter how hard you tried your arms wouldn’t move. There was a discount between your brain and your limbs. “Impressive,” you looked up at the door. You didn’t notice it open. “We thought you would be out much longer.” The man was German. You noticed the slight accent. He wore a black uniform with the HYDRA symbol on his shirt.

“HYDRA,” you said. The man smiled. A female walked from behind him. She was wearing a white lab coat and a mask covering her mouth. She checked your vitals.

“So you know who we are,” Of course you did. The Avengers were working day and night to remove the organization.

“Her vitals are good,” the doctor said. “We can begin.”

“Begin?” You questioned. Your throat was killing you. “Begin what?” The man nodded. The doctor pulled a syringe out of her pocket and inserted it into your IV. You tried to fight her but it was no use. She pushed the clear liquid.

“You should be honored, Miss. Stark,” he said. “You are going to be a part of history.” The heart machine began to beep rapidly indicating your growing panic.

“What did you inject me with?” You asked. Breath, you told yourself, breathe. You were no use to anyone if you sent yourself into a panic attack. The beeping settled down.

“A truth serum,” he answered. “In 30 minutes, no matter what question we ask you, you will be forced to tell the truth.” Impossible. He smiled at the disbelief clear on your face. He took a step forward, taking your chin in his hand. “In 30 minutes, you will tell us all of your secrets.”

Tony was abnormally quiet as Peter and Kate gave their report on your apartment. Since they were stationed in the city it made sense to have them check it out. The security camera caught you being dragged out of the back door and into the van. FRIDAY was tracking the van but Tony wasn’t hopeful. They’ve spent months trying to track down HYDRA bases and have only found a handful. “Thanks, guys,” Steve said. “Report back to the compound.” They nodded and the feed ended. It was all hands on deck even Bucky and Yelena were being pulled from their missions to help out.

“Do you think it could be connected to the upcoming mission?” Wanda asked. Their next target was a Russian factory. It was rumored that they were developing a new drug.

“They took her alive,” Natasha said. “That means they want something.” You were alive. Tony had to keep reminding himself of that. You were alive but in the hands of a monster. There is so much Tony wanted to say to you and the way things were left between you and him left a sour taste in his mouth.

“Tony,” Steve said. The conversation directed at him pulled him out of his thoughts. He hummed, looking at the super soldier. “We are going to find her.” Of course, they were. They were the Avengers but Tony was afraid of the state they were going to find you in.

You were extremely warm. A layer of sweat was covering your body. The doctor would place a wet towel on your forehead. It offered you some relief. “Her temperature is stable at 99.2,” she looked at the man. “We can begin.” The man smiled.

“Let’s start with a baseline,” he said. “Who is your father?” Lie. Lie. Lie. You licked your lips.

“Go to hell,” you said. His smile grew.

“It’s useless to fight it. You know the saying the truth will set you free,” There was a pressure building in your chest. You squeezed your eyes shut. Lie. Lie. Lie.

“Tony Stark,” you said. The pressure lifted on your chest.

“Who is your mother?” Lie. LIE.

“Meghan L/n,” you mumbled.

“And what happened to your dear mother?” He asked. You squeezed your hands into a fist.

“She died from cancer.” You missed her so much. He touched your cheek.

“You poor, little girl,” you flinched from his touch. “Now let’s get down to the nitty-gritty.” He let go of you. “The Avengers are hitting our facilities. Where are they hitting next?”

“I don’t know,” the pressure was slightly building on your chest. He frowned.

“Move to plan B,” he said to the doctor. “I forgot she’s a Stark. They are stubborn.” The doctor pulled out another syringe. This time she pinched your skin with a needle. It didn’t even hurt. “She just injected you with adrenaline. A mix of that with the truth serum is a deadly combination.”

“I don’t know,” you said again. “They were looking at a factory blueprint somewhere in Russia.” You never felt this weak. Your heart was thudding against your ribs. “Please,” you whispered. “I need water.” The man nodded and the doctor left the room.

“This factory,” he continued. “Tell me about it.” You squeezed your eyes shut. The image of the blueprint was engraved in your mind. You couldn’t tell him. If the Avengers were interested in this factory it must be important. HYDRA must be planning something.

“You know,” you said. “They are going to find me and when they do you are fucked.” The door opened and the doctor came back in with a cup of water. But the man grabbed it from her.

“I’m impressed,” he said. “You are still fighting it. Our other test subjects submitted much faster.” He poured the water on the ground and crushed the paper cup in his hand. “But even the strongest metals can bend. We just have to wait and we have all the time in the world together.” He opened the door and the doctor wordlessly followed him. “We will see you soon, Miss. Stark.” They left, closing the door behind him. You rested your head back looking up at the ceiling. You just needed to hold out till you were found.

Natasha needed to busy her hands. They were going through all known HYDRA associates and trying to connect it to the factory. It was slow work but it was the best option they had instead of blindly engaging. One slip-up could alert whoever took you. So Natasha was in the kitchen making a sandwich. “Hey,” she turned to look at her sister. “How are you?” Yelena was one of the few people at the compound that knew of the relationship between you and Natasha.

“I’m fine,” the blonde rolled her eyes and opened the fridge to grab a bottle of water.

“Bullshit,” she said. “It’s not nice to lie to your baby sister.” Natasha cut the sandwich in half and handed one half to Yelena. They sat down at the table. Natasha took a few bites of her sandwich. It tasted bitter in her mouth.

“I feel useless,” she told her sister. “We have no leads and the longer she’s with them the worse it will be.” Yelena finished her half and Natasha pushed her half so she could eat it.

“We’ll find her and then you can tell her that you love her,” Natasha kicked her sister underneath the table. “Ouch, that hurt,” she whined. “It’s the truth!” Natasha sighed.

“I know, I know,” she rubbed her hands against her face. “She’s just had a lot going on and no time seemed right.” You were so focused on your work and then the issue with Tony came up. Yelena smiled.

“That’s the thing. This life is so uncertain no time will seem right. You just have to tell them before it's too late,” Natasha was surprised at how much Yelena has healed from the hands of the Red Room.

“Widow 1 and Widow 2,” Clint said. Natasha looked at her oldest friend. “We have a lead. Come on.”

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” you opened your eyes. The man was in front of you holding your head up. “How are we doing?”

“Bad,” you said. “Bad.” Everything hurt and you were so hungry. He removed his hand and your head fell to the side. A new set of hands touched your face. It was the doctor. She whipped your face with a wet towel and an alcohol pad to clean up the dried blood on your face. You weren’t sure when your nose started bleeding.

“Are you ready to be good and tell me what I want to know?” You nodded. “Tell me about the factory.” You licked your lips.

“I saw the blueprints for a split second and the words were in Russian,” You let out a shaky breath. “But it mentioned that the factory was on a lake and that is where it got its power from,” you had to admit you were surprised that HYDRA was so into clean energy. “That’s all I know.” The man nodded and the doctor put a cup to your lips. You almost sobbed as the cold water touched your lips. “Thank you,” you said when the cup was dry. The man smiled.

“Of course, you’ve been very good to us.” He pulled out a phone and sent a text message with the information provided. “Do you know when they plan to attack?” You shook your head.

“No, but their priorities shifted when you kidnapped me.” The man put his phone away.

“Are we good to move on to phase 2?” He asked the doctor. She nodded.

“Her vitals are stable and she’s the strongest test subject we’ve had.” She moved a rolling table over to her with a briefcase on it.

“Miss. Stark, I do appreciate your willingness to be part of our experiment,” she opened the briefcase. “Our lovely doctor has been fascinated with mutants and how to turn normal people into one.” She took out a big needle with red liquid swirled in the syringe. “Unfortunately, all of her other test subjects died. But we have strong hopes for you.” She cleaned a spot on your arm.

“Wait,” you said. “Please.” But your pleas went on deaf ears as the needle pinched your skin. You watched helplessly as the red liquid was pushed into your system. An alarm began to go off.

“Impossible,” he opened the metal door and the sound of shooting and yelling echoed against the wall. Your body felt like it was on fire. You groaned in pain. Patches of darkness began to cloud your vision. You swore you heard your name.

“Get away from her,” Was that Tony?

“It’s too late,” the doctor said. It was the first time you’d heard real emotion in her voice. “She’ll either die or be reborn into something beautiful.” You heard her yell and a crash as she fell against the table.

“Hey, squirt, can you hear me?” Tony asked. He removed the gloves from his suit and wasn’t sure where to touch you. He decided on your arms.

“D-dad?” You questioned. You weren’t sure the last time you called him that. He nodded.

“Yeah, I’m here,” he said. “We’re all here. We are going to get you home.”

“Home?” You put your head back and yelled in pain. “It hurts.” You forced out. Tears were forming at the corner of your eyes. “Dad, it hurts. Make it stop.” You sobbed.

Tony removed the IV from your arm. He felt helpless as he watched you cry in pain from whatever they did to you. The skin of your arms started to bubble and your normal eye color began to flicker from red, to green, gray, and blue. “Romanoff, Belova, I found her. Where are you?” He asked over the coms. The Black Widow sisters were given medication from Helen before they left and they were tasked with going through the office to find what they did to you.

“On our way, Stark,” Natasha said. Gun fire could be heard through the coms.

“Dad,” you mumbled. Your eyes were fluttering close.

“Hey, squirt, I need you to stay awake,” you looked at him.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I’m sorry.” Your eye color stopped rapidly switching. It stopped on red.

“You don’t need to apologize,” he said. “And when we get out of here, we are going to be a family.” You smiled.

“I’d like that,” your eyes closed. The only indication that you were alive was your shallow breathing and the heart monitoring beating.

“Stark,” Tony looked at the doorway and saw Natasha and Yelena. Natasha had a vial in her hand but she was frozen as she stared at your still form. Yelena took the vital out of her sister’s hand and ran to your side.

“This should halt whatever they gave her and give us enough time to get her back to the compound.” Yelena opened the vial and tilted your head back.

“Should?” Tony questioned.

“We didn’t have a lot of time to check our work.” She poured the vial down your throat. They waited in silence for something to happen. Soon you began to cough and your eyes opened slowly. The billionaire let out a sigh.

“Lena,” you mumbled. The blonde smiled.

“Gave us quite a scare,” you laughed. Yelena moved out of the way and Natasha took her sister’s spot.

“Let’s get you home,”

You sat on a bed at the compound in their med bay. Helen said the truth serum would make its way out of your system in 24 hours. As for the mystery red injection, they were running tests on your blood and DNA to find out more. But you sneezed when Helen brought you food and almost set the doctor on fire, you had a pretty good idea of what your new ability was. You slowly ate your soup when the door to your room opened. It was Tony with a bouquet. “I thought you’d prefer this to a teddy bear,” he said, placing them on your side table.

“It’s a good choice,” he sat down in the empty chair. “Hele did tell you that the serum isn’t totally out of my system, right?” He nodded.

“She did but this conversation can’t wait,” he sighed. “I meant what I said when I told you we would be a family when we got you home. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness and I don’t want it. I’m sorry for not being the father you deserve. You’ve done so well on your own and I’m so proud of you,” you looked down at your soup unable to look at the man. “I’d like to earn your forgiveness if you’ll give me the chance.”

“Dammit dad,” you whispered, whipping away a few tears that fell from your eyes. “I’ve waited so long for you to say that to me. I just didn’t think me getting kidnapped would be the thing that changed your mind.”

“It shouldn’t have come to that,” you looked at him again. “I love you, squirt. You being born was the best thing that happened to me.” You held out your hand and he took it.

“Please don’t break my heart,” you said. “I don’t think I’d be able to take it.” He squeezed your hand.

“I won’t be perfect but I promise to change.” You smiled. “Now about you and Romanoff.” Your smile fell and you groaned. “I’m just messing with you.” You weren’t sure if you believed him. “Finish eating and get some rest once you heal, we'll discuss your choice in women.” You pulled your hand away from him but you didn’t miss his smile.

“You are the worst,” you said. He stood up and kissed the top of your head.

“I’m so happy you're safe.” He whispered.

You must have fallen asleep because when you woke up Natasha was sitting next to you. She was reading a poetry book. You smiled at the sight. “Hi,” you whispered. She closed the book at the sound of your voice.

“Malyshka (baby girl),” she said, standing up. You moved over to make space on the bed and she sat down next to you.

“Kiss me,” you said. “Please.” She smiled and connected your lips. You loved kissing Natasha. It was your favorite thing because each kiss was so different. Right now it was slow as if she was savoring it. When the need for air was too great, you pulled away and rested your forehead against hers.

“I was so worried,” she whispered. “I was scared I’d never see you again.” You’ve never heard so much vulnerability in her voice.

“You would have found me,” you said, pulling her onto the bed so she was laying down next to you. You rested your head on her shoulder and kissed her neck. You smiled as you watched goosebumps on her skin. “I can’t lie, remember.” She chuckled and kissed the top of your head.

“There is so much I want to tell you,” she said. You nodded.

“I know and we’ll talk but right now I just want you to hold me.” You felt safe in her arms. The safest you’ve felt since you woke up in that chair.

Part 3

Taglist:

@natsxwife @mymommawanda @doudouneverte

@thatgayinsomniac @catswag22 @marvelogic

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #Natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x y/n stark #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x stark!reader #tony stark x reader #tony stark x you #tony stark x y/n #tony stark x daughter!reader #Marvel AU #marvel fanfiction #marvel one shot #tony stark #natasha romanoff #yelena belova #Steve Rogers

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cirilla-fiona-riannon · 2 years ago

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Kicho's Main Story Chapter 9 Part 2

These translations are not intended as a replacement for the game. Please support cybird by buying their stories. SPOILERS under the cut. Expect mistakes.

Mitsuhide: “...........”

Mitsuhide: “You said that if the present changes, the future will change, too.”

Mitsuhide: “You knew the future and started the war here in Japan to change it?”

Kicho: “That’s right.”

Mitsuhide: “Why did you do it?”

Kicho: “If I tell you, will you change your beliefs?”

Mitsuhide: “You don’t have to ask.”

Kicho: “Then there’s no point in talking about it. I have no intention of breaking anything, either.”

Mitsuhide: “Even if you have to put that girl on the scales?”

Kicho: “...........”

Kicho’s eyes silently lose their light, like a sky covered with thick clouds.

Kicho: "What are you trying to say?"

Mitsuhide: “You now have two choices.”

Mitsuhide: “If what you said earlier is true, then Mai’s disappearance means that Japan’s future has changed.”

Mitsuhide: “In other words, the warring world will continue, just as you have intended.”

Mitsuhide: “The first option is to continue to live as a demon in this turbulent world.”

Kicho: “And the second option is to abandon the cause in the hope of eliminating it, huh?”

Mitsuhide: “That’s right. And I have only one choice.”

Mitsuhide immediately raised his gun and pointed it at Kicho.

Mitsuhide: “I choose Mai’s life over your cause.”

Mitsuhide: “And I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make this choice.”

Mitsuhide: "What about you, Kicho?"

Kicho: "Let's see."

Mitsuhide: "!"

Bang!

One single gunshot sound echoed through the small room, and both Mitsuhide and Kicho's faces contorted as it was fired simultaneously.

Mitsuhide: "Guh..."

Kicho: "There's no choice from the start. I've already decided my path."

With blood seeping from his right shoulder, Kicho moved toward the door that had been kicked in.

Kicho: "I'll leave everything behind and move on to greater heights."

Kicho: "That's why I came back to this turbulent world."

Mitsuhide: "Wait. You..."

By the time Mitsuhide, shot in the abdomen, was about to point his gun again, Kicho had disappeared.

Motonari: "You bitch, how long are you going to resist?"

Mai: "Ouch, my feet..."

Motonari's subordinate: "Hey, don't put all your weight on me while saying that!"

Kidnapped and bound with ropes, I desperately resisted for the last time.

(Motonari said that I had to disappear.)

(Now that we've come this far into the mountains, they're either going to kill me or leave me behind without anyone knowing.)

(I guess that means I'll never make it back alive.)

(If that happens, I'll never see Kicho again.)

Motonari: "Do you want to be killed here?"

Mai: "I'm resisting because I don't want to get killed!"

Motonari: "Then, you better shut up. A defiant hostage is nothing but a nuisance."

Mai: "Hostage?"

Motonari: "Kicho didn't tell me, but I've already checked it."

Motonari: "Nobunaga is seriously understaffed for sending a princess with so many openings as a spy."

Mai: "----!"

(Motonari knows who I am, too.)

Motonari: "It looks like he's finally here."

I turned around when I heard footsteps approaching.

Motonari: "I've been waiting for you. Kennyo."

(This is the man who tried to kill Nobunaga in Honnoji.)

Kennyo: “Who’s that girl?”

Motonari: “She’s from the Oda clan. Rumor has it that she’s Nobunaga’s mistress.”

(Mistress!?)

Mai: “T-That’s not true! That’s just a rumor!”

Motonari: “Ha? What are you getting so worked up about?”

Mai: “I have no choice. That rumor is making me uneasy.”

Mai: “Also, please don’t tell Kicho that.”

Motonari: “Because you don’t want him to think you have that kind of relationship with Nobunaga?”

Motonari: “You’re awfully attached to him.”

Mai: “That’s...”

(That just came out of my mouth.)

I averted my eyes from Motonari to stop myself from saying anymore crazy things.

Motonari: “Well, I’m not interested, so I won’t ask.”

Kennyo: “But even if you exclude the rumor, she’s still from the Oda clan.”

Kennyo: “I see. That’s why she was in Honnoji that night.”

Mai: “----!”

I got goosebumps when I saw the dark, cold look in his eyes as he turned his lingering hatred toward me.

Motonari: “You made the right call by speaking to me.”

Motonari: “You can use her as a hostage to get rid of your grief from the past or whatever.”

Mai: “Waah!”

At Motonari’s order, his men pushed me, making me stagger toward Kennyo.

Bound by ropes and unable to catch myself, his strong arms supported me and pulled me straight to him.

Mai: “No, let me go!”

Kennyo: “I can’t do that.”

Kennyo: “I have nothing against you, but if you claim to be from the Oda, I can’t let you go.”

Kennyo: “I’ll use you as much as I can.”

Motonari: “There you have it. He saved your life. You’re lucky you’re worth something.”

Mai: “That doesn’t make me happy! It’s unfair that you guys are teaming up to do this!”

Motonari: “Ha? I’m not teaming up with him. I’m just looking for a place to dump you because you’re in the way.”

Motonari: “Hey, Kennyo. You still haven't given me an answer.”

Kennyo: “...........”

(What’s he talking about? It doesn't look like they're enemies, but they're not allies either.)

(Come to think of it, Motonari and Kicho were like that too.)

It was Motonari's sole decision to bring me here, and as far as I’ve heard, Kicho didn't share some of the information with Motonari either.

(They probably team up because they have the same goal, or their goals just overlap with each other.)

Mai: "What exactly are you two up to?"

Motonari: "Why do wanna know? Are you gonna talk us out of it?"

Kennyo: "You're wasting your time. If one word could change our purpose, we wouldn't be here now."

Mai: "I know that, but being ignorant is the worst thing I can do."

Motonari: "Ha! You're right. There's nothing scarier than ignorance."

Motonari: "Some people dream of unification because they're too ignorant."

Mai: "Is it wrong to dream of a peaceful future?"

Motonari: "It's not, but you'll regret it when the time comes."

Motonari: "People are ugly, greedy beasts. Nothing good will happen if they rule over others."

Motonari: "That's why it's much better to live in chaos."

(He talks like there are no good people in this world.)

(But why does he think that way?)

Motonari: "Anyway, Japan is fine the way it is. Nobody can do anything about it."

Motonari said dismissively and quickly mounted his horse.

Mai: "Wait! I'm not yet done talking!"

Motonari: "No, it's over. You can think about the rest with that tiny little head of yours."

(Ah...)

Cutting off the conversation, Motonari gestured for the horse to turn and galloped away.

(He's gone.)

Kennyo: "I have nothing to say to you."

Mai: "But you're going to hold me hostage?"

Mai: "If you're putting my life on the line, you can at least tell me what kind of demands you intend to make."

Kennyo: "No. What if you suddenly bite your tongue and kill yourself?"

Mai: "I won't do that! There's no way I'd take my own life."

Kennyo furrowed his eyebrows deeply as I denied it.

Kennyo: "You’re a strange girl. Don't you have anything called loyalty?"

Mai: "I want to be as honest as possible, but I'm not willing to die for anyone."

Mai: "Of course, I don't like the idea of someone dying for me, either."

Kennyo: "............."

Kennyo: "Then you're in deep trouble because I'm trading your body for Nobunaga's head."

Mai: "What!?"

I remember what Mitsuhide told me before.

Kennyo plotted the assassination of Nobunaga at Honnoji Temple because Nobunaga destroyed the Ishiyama Hongan-ji Temple in the past.

Mai: "Are you taking revenge?"

Kennyo: "That's right."

Kennyo: "That Demon King burned down the temple to achieve his goal of unification."

Kennyo: "Several of my comrades have lost their lives and lands, leaving them only with resentment and regret."

Kennyo: "I'll do whatever it takes to take revenge on Nobunaga."

Kennyo's expression turned even grimmer, and the scar that remained on his face became twisted.

(There is always someone else's blood and war beyond any beliefs.)

(And even if you survive, your heart will be shattered.)

I'd seen it with my own eyes, if only for a short while.

These were the times when one couldn't live without getting hurt, surrounded by the word justice.

It was too difficult just to stay alive and hold on to one's own will.

That's why...

Mai: "We need to end this warring world even more so."

Kennyo: "What are you mumbling all of a sudden?"

Mai: "I realized that even though we have words, they mean nothing in the face of military force."

Mai: "It's not yet too late for us to talk and get to know each other before making a decision."

Mai: "Because if one of us points a weapon at the other first, it's gonna be hard to talk anymore."

I'd rather stay ignorant, but I can't go back now.

I'm no longer a bystander.

------------Flashback------------

Kicho: “My goal of a peaceful world was wrong.”

Kicho: “If people are not tormented by war, they will forget the value of life.”

Kicho: “It’s only in this turbulent world that we can properly fulfill the meaning of life.”

---------Flashback Ends---------

(That's not true.)

Mai: "If we're not tormented by war, we can remember the warmth of our words."

Mai: "We can listen to the words of someone who has the same irreplaceable life."

(I know it won't always work out that way, and it's all just my selfish idea of justice.)

(But if that opportunity gets taken away before you get to know the other person, people will remain at odds with each other for the rest of their lives.)

(They will continue to carry the wounds and contradictions they have suffered.)

Mai: "There are plenty of things you don't realize until your enemies become human."

Mai: "I learned that here."

Mai: "So I think that whoever you are dealing with before you pick up a weapon, you should speak to each other first."

Kennyo: "..........."

Mai: "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that as a sermon to you."

Mai: "I just saw what was happening and thought about it."

Kennyo: "Yeah."

Kennyo nodded slowly, his face still contorted as he leaned slightly on his staff, a clear, crisp sound echoing.

Kennyo: "My goal is still to take revenge."

Kennyo: "We've already hurt each other and lost so much. The man I believed to be human turned out to be a demon king, and I turned out to be a demon."

Kennyo: "There's no turning back now. Everything is covered with blood, and this road leads to hell."

Mai: "I understand."

Kennyo: “But there are still others who haven’t been deprived and can turn back.”

Mai: “You mean the townspeople? There’s a riot going on now.”

Kennyo: “You know about it?”

Mai: “Not all of it, but I’ve seen it.”

Mai: “There were fires everywhere, and people were screaming. It was pretty much like hell.”

Kennyo: “Then, what would you do?”

Mai: “I...”

(There’s not much I can do by myself.)

(I know that, but一)

Mai: “I want to stop it. I’ll do what I can to stop it.”

Kennyo: “I see. Then...”

Kennyo suddenly drew the sword, hidden in his staff, and一

Slash!

He cut the rope binding me.

Mai: “Are you sure you want to let me go?”

Kennyo: “A hostage will just slow me down. Also, I have to take my disciples and go to town.”

Mai: “Are you going to stop the riots?”

Mai: “This could be your chance to get revenge, you know?”

Kennyo: “Are you really saying that to me?”

Kennyo: “There are just too many of them to take to hell. That’s all.”

Mai: “Kennyo...”

No matter how noble your words are and how many times you say them to a stranger, you can’t easily move their hearts.

But in Kennyo’s case, there may have already been hesitation deep in his heart.

Mai: “Um...”

Mai: “If there’s anything I can help you with in the future, please let me know.”

Kennyo: “Does that mean you’ll volunteer to be a hostage?”

Mai: “Except that.”

Kennyo: “You become even weirder every time I talk to you.”

Sighing, Kennyo put his sword back and hit the ground twice.

Soon, armed, black-clad men came running out from the nearby trees.

Disciple 1: “Lord Kennyo, we’ve been keeping an eye on it as you ordered us to.”

Kennyo: “Yeah, how’s the situation in town?”

Disciple 2: “It’s spreading fast.”

Disciple 2: “The rioters are setting fire to houses one after another and marching to a poorly guarded branch castle on the outskirts of town.”

Kennyo: “I see. Then we’ll split up and handle it.”

He listened to the reports and gave instructions to each of them.

(I can’t let this happen. I have to act too.)

Mai: “Excuse me! I’ll try not to slow you down, so will you let me come with you?”

Kennyo: “Are you going to jump into a dangerous place by yourself unarmed?”

Mai: “Yes. I can’t fight, but I can help you with the rescue.”

Mai: “Besides, I want to find Kicho and talk to him directly.”

Kennyo: “That man?”

Mai: "Please! I'll do my best."

Mai: "If you feel like I'm in the way, you can just leave me there!"

As I repeatedly bowed my head, Kennyo stopped me with his hand.

Kennyo: "In any case, it's still dangerous to leave a girl here alone."

Kennyo: "Follow me."

Mai: "Thank you!"

(Wherever you are, I'll surely find you.)

(I'm going to stop you, Kicho.)

Boom!

Man 1: "Hey, get out of there! You'll get caught in the middle of it!"

Woman: "No! My baby is still trapped inside."

Man 1: "Give up! You're going to die too!"

Man 2: "What are you guys doing? Do you want to get burned?"

Woman: "But!"

Kicho: "Oi."

Townspeople: "----!"

Kicho: "You hold up that end over there and push that pillar down there with me."

Man 1: "Okay, fine!"

Kicho: "Now, on the count of three, put your strength into it."

Kicho: "One, two, three!"

Woman: "There's an opening!"

The woman frantically reached out her arm and rescued a child trapped between the crushed houses.

Woman: "Thank goodness."

Man 1: "Thank you. Wait, you're hurt!"

Woman: "It's true. Your face is so pale, and your shoulder is bleeding."

Kicho: "It's nothing serious."

Shrugging off the voices of concern, Kicho quickly walked away, exhaling painfully with each step and looking up at the hellish scene.

Kicho: "I can't just stop here."

Kicho: "This is the path I've decided to take."

(A bloody letter that never gets delivered.)

Where did I go wrong?

What should I have done? I know that thinking about it and regretting it now won't make any difference because I chose this path for myself.

To choose something means to abandon something.

I know that too.

I've spilled too much blood, but I can't stop thinking about all the possibilities that don't exist.

What would that girl say to me now?

What expression would she make, and how would she touch me?

I should've talked to her. I should've faced her.

Mai was the only one who tried to see all of me, not just a part of me.

I never thought that would be the last time.

--Kicho

Previous Part╏Masterlist╏Next Part

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen kicho #ikesen kichou #ikesen jp #ikesen #ikesen spoilers #ikesen translations #cybird #ikesen motonari #ikesen mitsuhide

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niragis-thot · 2 years ago

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Niragi’s Favorite Toy

Part 3

Part one [X]

Part two [X] 🌶️

Niragi X female reader

Warnings: CNC, Dubious consent, smut, knife play, gun kink, and manipulative relationship in future chapters, basically everything you would expect from Niragi. Warning for threats of violence in this chapter

“You fucking dick,” you screamed. You cursed yourself for having fallen for this. “You really slept with me just to steal my gun”

“Don’t get me wrong princess, I wanted that sweet pussy too. And don’t act like you didn’t get anything out of it when you were just whimpering on my dick two minutes ago.”

“Then just fucking take it and go.” You just wanted this interaction to end, but he seemed to be savoring your discomfort.

“Tell you what. Since we had so much fun in that game together, I’ll give you an option to get it back. You can give me everything useful you have, all your ammo, plus your cards, and walk away now. Or you come with me, join the militant corps, and I get to keep you as my plaything.” He used the tip of his gun to poke underneath your chin, “We could have so much more fun together.”

“What’s the militant corps?” damn it y/n you thought to yourself. You should be handing your things over before running away as quickly as possible, not seriously considering this offer.

“We work to keep the peace at the Beach. Which by the way has hot showers, food, a clean bed, oh and a 24/7 pool party.”

You thought about how hard it had been to find food here, what games you had barely escaped death in before finding your shotgun. You thought about how you had slept the past couple of days outdoors because even though you could still get into your old apartment, it felt impossible to fall asleep in the hot summer with no air conditioning. You just had to play sex toy to this deranged man, and you could get all the things you needed to survive these games. And that didn’t seem too difficult given how attractive he was. You knew you shouldn’t be trusting anything he said, but if there was even a chance of a better life here you should take it.

“You know you could have just led with the hot shower part and nearly every person would say yes to that” you raised your hands up before walking up to him. “It would be a lot easier to follow you if you stopped pointing that at me” He didn’t lower the gun though.

Right then his radio went off “Hey Niragi, some of us have actually been working while you fuck around. Get over here and help us load up.”

You walked a few blocks away where three of the men from the game were raiding a police station. “Alright Y/N, I’d like you to meet our boss Aguni”

The muscular man wearing camo and a black tank top looked up, “What’s this about Niragi”

“Don’t look at me like that, I was just busy getting us another weapon. He handed the shotgun to him. “Plus you know from the last meeting we’ve had a higher than average casualty rate at the beach this week. Hatter’s gonna need some fresh blood to collect cards for him.”

Aguni gave him the side eye, “How altruistic,” he quipped sarcastically. That was enough to tell Niragi to start working loading the car up.

That was another surprise for today since you hadn’t known there were any working cars here.

When they were done Niragi got in the passenger seat before turning to wink at you. “Full car, guess you’ll have to sit on my lap.” You guessed that arguing to squeeze between the guys in the back seat wasn’t going to fly.

You climbed onto him and he wrapped his arms around you, immediately beginning to tease at your thigh.

Niragi talked with the tattooed man wearing a tattered hoodie, you think he had referred to him as Last Boss, they sharedtheir exploits from the past couple of games. Although it was Niragi who did 90% of the talking. Last Boss seemed like someone who barely talked, while Niragi seemed like he was in love with hearing his own voice.

Then the conversation shifted to the hearts game. “You should have seen her. Girl was knocked out cold and Y/n just kept loosing it. I bet she would have bashed her entire face in if there were a few more seconds on the timer.”

You blushed and started stuttering. Had you really been that out of control that you didn’t notice when the girl went unconscious? “Oh, I…”

“Sheesh.” Niragi interrupted, “you better not be about to apologize. You did great. There’s no place for the weak in this world.”

“She would have done the same thing to me if she were able to.” You muttered.

“Now you’re getting it princess.”

When you arrived at the beach you still couldn’t believe a place like this existed in this world. Aguni led the way through the pool area where people were drunk, partying, playing loud music, and you think you even spotted someone getting their dick sucked.

One man cheered as he saw the militants walk in, “I knew I picked the right team to bet on”

“That’s because you always bet the safe way. Let’s not include Aguni’s group next time and see how your win streak does”

“They left with four and came back with five, I should win double”

Were these people betting on who would die or survive in the games? You didn’t have time to eavesdrop anymore as Niragi was dragging you along.

“Welcome to paradise baby.” He whispered in your ear. You were starting to feel like the risk you were taking coming here might be worth it.

From there you were taken to the gift store which was filled with swimwear. Niragi gave you the run down that everyone at the beach was required to wear swimsuits. You wondered if he might be messing with you to get you to walk around half naked, but you hadn’t seen anyone outside of the core militant group not wearing one.

You looked through the racks a bit before Niragi announced, “This one is going to look ravishing on you.” He held up an impossibly small red bikini with lots of straps.

You guessed that he didn’t intend to let you pick one out for yourself.

He leaned in and kissed your neck, “I’ve got some militant business to take care of. Go up to my room and put this on.”

You nodded, and were surprised that he was leaving you alone. It seemed like all evening he had either had his gun pointed at you, or was grabbing your wrist to drag you along. He didn’t seem to trust that just because you said you were coming with him you wouldn’t turn and bolt at the first chance.

Then you saw that just outside the room Last Boss had been hunched over while watching you. So you weren’t being left alone after all. He didn’t say a single word to you as you walked up the stairs.

Your first shower since arriving in the borderlands felt like heaven. Every ache in your body melted away under the heat. The past couple of weeks you had only been able to clean yourself with bottled water and a sponge. Just having this one basic thing felt like regaining a bit of your humanity.

Afterwards you looked at yourself in the mirror with you new outfit. The red straps that sat above your hip bones really emphasized your curves, but what really stood out to you was how every hickey that Niragi had left on your body was completely visible. He had made sure everyone was going to know.

When he got back to the room you were sitting up in bed. For once he wasn’t talking, instead he just stared you down with those dark eyes while he hovered over you. There was something predatory about it. Like you were prey and he was about to devour you.

He climbed over you licked your neck, followed by planting a long kiss on your lips. “I’m so mesmerized by my new toy,” he said before rolling off of you. He cupped your face gently in his hand “I picked up a few things to help get you settled in here.” Where had this sweet side suddenly come from?

You went over to the bag he had brought in. He had gotten you some makeup and a bar of Chocolate.

“Thank you,” you said while crawling back into bed again.

Niragi pulled you into him and began to stroke your hair. “Get some sleep, you’ll need meet Hatter in the morning, and the executives will want to test you”

You curled up next to him. Being with him felt so exciting, but also dangerous. He wasn’t the type of guy you’d go for back in the real world, but in this one where you were probably going to die in the next week anyways you wanted to chase that bad boy fantasy.

Once you could tell Niragi was asleep you felt alone with your thoughts for the first time that day. The pit in your stomach grew when you thought about the girl. Your mind kept coming up with scenarios of how you could have found the extra chairs first, and no one would have died. As if replaying those thoughts would somehow change the past. But how could you have known to look for them?

You clung to the man who told you that you didn’t do anything wrong.

#niragi suguru #niragi x you #niragi x y/n #niragi x reader #niragi fanfiction #niragi alice in borderland

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multifandomfanfiction · 2 years ago

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Tome Chapter 5

TITLE: Tome Chapter 5 PAIRING: No Pairing RATING: T CHAPTER: 5/? SUMMARY: Cathrin is the Armorer’s foundling and future Alor of the Covert. But what happens when she makes the decision to abandon the Covert and leave with Din and the Child?

Cathrin stayed back at the village while Cara and Din went to investigate the raiders.

They came back with less than stellar news.

“Bad news. You can’t live here anymore,” Din told them.

Cathrin mentally face-palmed. This man had no idea how to interact with civilians.

“Nice bedside manner,” Cara muttered.

“You think you can do better?”

“Can’t do much worse.” Cara stepped forward. “I know this is not the news you wanted to hear, but there are no other options.”

“You took the job,” one of the villagers said.

“Yeah. That was before we knew about the AT-ST.”

“What is that?”

“The armored walker with two enormous guns that you knew about and didn’t tell us.”

The villagers started arguing.

“We have nowhere to go,” Omera told them.

“Sure you do. This is a big planet. I mean, I’ve seen a lot smaller,” Cara said.

“My grandparents seeded these ponds,” one of the villagers said.

“It took generations.”

“I understand. I do. But there are only two of us. Three if you count the kid.”

It took Cathrin a second to realize Cara was talking about her. Din must have told her that Cathrin had never seen real battle.

“No, there’s not. There’s at least 20 here,” a villager argued.

“I mean fighters. Be realistic.”

“We can learn!” “We can!” “Give us a chance!” “Please.”

“I’ve seen that thing take out entire companies of soldiers in a matter of minutes,” Cara told them.

“We’re not leaving,” Omera reiterated.

“You cannot fight that thing.”

“Unless we show them how,” Din said.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Din and Cara immediately launched into a battle strategy.

Cathrin thought it was fascinating watching how their minds worked.

“You got two problems here. You got the bandits and you got the mech. We’ll handle the AT-ST, but you gotta protect us when they come out of the woods. And I don’t have to tell you how dangerous they are. Cara Dune here was a veteran. She was a drop soldier for the Rebellion and she’s gonna lay out a plan for you, so listen carefully,” Din told them. He turned it over to Cara.

“Now, there’s nothing on this planet that can damage the legs on this thing, so we’re gonna build a trap. We’re gonna need to dig real deep, right here, so that when it steps in, it drops. The two of us will hit their camp. Provoke them. That’ll bring the fight out of the woods and down here to us.”

“I’m gonna need you to cut down trees and build barricades around these edges. I need it high enough so that they can’t get over and strong enough that it can’t break through. Okay. Who knows how to shoot?”

Omera was the only one to raise her hand.

The villagers got to work executing Din and Cara’s plan and training.

“What about me?” Cathrin asked.

“You’re going to stay with the children,” Din told her.

“What! I…I can help!”

“No, this is too dangerous for you.”

“I’m wearing Beskar. Same as you.”

“You have no experience with battle.”

“Then how am I supposed to learn?”

“The answer is no.”

Cathrin wanted to cross her arms over her chest and stomp her foot like a child, but she didn’t.

Din sighed. “You are under my protection. I cannot let anything happen to you. You are the future…”

“I don’t care about that! I don’t care about being the new Alor! I came with you by my own free will to experience the world. You don’t owe me anything.”

Din put a hand on her shoulder. “Stay with the children. Take care of the kid.”

Cathrin stomped off towards the children as Din started pulling out weapons.

Why had she even bothered coming along if Din was just going to treat her like a glorified babysitter?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The sun started to set, so Din and Cara started off for the raiders’ camp.

Cathrin heard the thundering footsteps of the AT-ST.

The footsteps stopped. It hadn’t fallen. Had the raiders surrendered already?

Cathrin handed the baby to Winta. “Stay here, okay? Do not under any circumstances leave this hut.”

Winta nodded.

Cathrin burst out of the hut and ran towards the battle. She arrived just in time to see the AT-ST lumber out of the woods.

It stopped right before it stepped over the ditch they had dug.

She ran towards the mech.

“Cathrin!” Din yelled. Din got up and ran after her. He caught her around the waist and started to pull her back when something happened.

As if pulled by an invisible force, the AT-ST was yanked forward and fell to the ground.

Cathrin went limp in Din’s arms. He dragged her over to the barricade. He pulled off his glove and placed his fingers on her neck.

Her pulse was normal and she was breathing.

“What the hell was that?” Cara asked him.

He didn’t know, but it looked an awful like what the kid could do.

#din djarin #din djarin imagines #din djarin fanfiction #cara dune #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian imagines #the mandalorian #star wars imagines #star wars fanfiction #star wars #sanctuary #pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine

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poorlytunedukulele · 2 years ago

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Prompt 24 - Spring Cleaning

April 03, 2873; The Last City, Earth

“Really, you’d think this would be the other way around,” Azra mused.

Spark didn’t answer. He was too busy sorting through a pile of shoulder guards, muttering to himself. Azra had perched herself on an ammo crate, watching with some bemusement as he bustled back and forth.

Azra continued. “I mean you’re the Ghost and I’m the Guardian. Aren’t you supposed to be the sensible one?”

“I’m being sensible,” Spark said huffily.

He was not being sensible. They were supposed to be cleaning out their Vault, but he’d been insisting on keeping more than they dismantled. Sometimes it was genuine thought for the future, but mostly it was just sentimental.

“Okay,” Azra challenged. “How about these?” She slapped her hand down on a stack of Golden Age nature magazines piled next to her.

“Careful with those,” Spark scolded. He darted over and levitated one gently.

“You have scans of all of them,” Azra argued.

“There’s a difference between looking at a projection and being able to handle something. I can’t recreate the colors faithfully-“

“If we donate them to an archive, we could go look at them whenever we wanted,” Azra said. (Which would probably be never- she hadn’t cast more than a cursory glance at the magazines in two years).

“Yeah, well,” Spark said.

Azra tilted her chin and raised her eyebrows at him.

“Fine, fine,” he relented. “Well donate the magazines.”

“And the leg armor?” she said.

“We already sorted through the leg armor,” Spark said.

“I don’t need a set specifically for rock climbing.”

Spark spun his shell. “What if we get into a situation-“

“Then I’ll deal with it,” Azra said. “We’ll deal with it. I feel you’re wasting more time and effort trying to prepare for everything than we’d spend just handling things as they come up.”

“We’re finally at a place where we’re good enough,” Spark lamented. “After scraping by so long, we finally have options and you want to just throw them all away.”

“I don’t need six different helmets,” Azra said soothingly. “I know it seems important, but it’s just stuff, Spark.”

The Ghost grumbled to himself and transmatted away the magazines. Azra, feeling a little apologetic, moved to help sort the equipment stacked behind them. A set of old bowstrings, wax flaking off; a folded pile of House Devils bannercloth; the remote for Andal’s movie projector.

“That’s where that went,” Spark said. “I’d forgotten we lost it.”

“We should really clean this out more often,” Azra commented. She removed an old, threadbare cloak and came face-to-face with something else she’d forgotten.

A rocket launcher, still shinny-new and perfect under the dust. Silver feathers, a golden wolf’s head. The maker’s mark from Crux/Lomar was still there under the barrel. She hadn’t even taken it out for a test run when she’d gotten it.

Amidst her reverie, someone pressed a gun into her hands. No, not a gun, a rocket launcher. Shining gold and silver, a feathered wolf's head. She looked up, confused, to see an Exo there (blue optics, yellow details). He was one of the several people moving down the lines, passing out… rocket launchers? "Made from the armor of those who fell," the Exo rasped.

Azra was immediately repulsed. She didn't want it. She opened her mouth to say as such, but the Exo had moved on down the line. Her fingers fidgeted on the detailing. Whose armor was this, then? It was too macabre for her tastes, wielding a weapon made from a dead person's gear. The gun was gleaming and new, like the ceremonial armor they all wore. Azra couldn't wait to get back into her dented, scratched gear. Newness felt like a farce.

“Lots of old things in here,” Spark said. He lit down on Azra’s shoulder gently.

It had only been two years, but it felt like a lifetime ago. Traveler, she’d been so scared, so lost.

They were in a better place now. They had friends, they had their Pack. Age had given her more perspective on the dark, desperate events of Twilight Gap. Before, she’d been horrified at the rocket launcher, supposedly made from the armor of those who’d given their lives. It had felt grotesque with the smell of blood still practically in her nose. Now, she traced a finger along the wolf’s wing and felt… gratitude. She hadn’t asked Miles-4 to die for her. They hadn’t asked Shaxx to take up his certain-to-fail mission to hold the line. But he had and he did, and now Azra and the City were still here.

Back then, if she had died her final death, it would have been in confusion and grief. She hadn’t understood what sacrifice meant. But now she had things she treasured more than life itself; she knew what it was like to look death in the eye and stand firm instead of turning to run.

“Let’s say we take a break and go fire some rockets at House Winter,” Azra suggested.

Spring cleaning had gotten tiresome. “Deal.”

AO3 Linky!

#destiny #destiny 2 #destiny the game #destcember #destcember2022 #destiny fanfiction #just me having Twilight Gap Thoughts again

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rosieshipper · 2 years ago

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Revamping my red dead self insert

So this is my new self insert for red dead. Her name is Rose Delgado

Rose was originally born into a small family on a farm, she had a loving mother but an alcoholic father who was normally abusive towards her and her mom. One night when she was eight, her father came home in a drunken rage and started a fight with her mother. The fight only escalated into violence and in the fight, her father knocked over some lit candles which eventually set the entire house ablaze. Rose was able to escape thanks to her mother, but in the end, both her mother and father were consumed by the flames

In the next year, Rose was resorted to having to steal and pickpocket from others just to survive. One day while in a market place, she managed to pickpocket these two men (Dutch and Hosea) before she was suddenly caught by them and chased down an alleyway. Once cornered, Rose pulled a knife on them and threatened to kill them both, but instead of being met with anger, she was met by the two of them being impressed by her skills of managing to steal from them both. So they offered to let her stay with them in their camp and in turn she would help them with her pickpocketing skills. Seeing as she had no other options, she took the deal

From there she was taken back to the camp and was raised alongside Arthur and John (Arthur being in his early 20s and John being 10) Over the years, Rose became a proper outlaw, learning how to shoot a gun, ride a horse and steal from the rich and unworthy. And eventually she became one of the group’s best gunslingers

Later on in her early 20s after the massacre in blackwater, Rose meets a grief stricken woman with a sense of vengeance on the men who killed her husband. Rose is tasked with helping her feel more comfortable in the camp and over the time, some feelings are shared between the two women

So yeah, Dutch and Hosea are her dads, Arthur and John are her brothers and Sadie is her future girlfriend

Tags: @astralshipper @aricka-and-her-fictional-others @magicalpuppyprincess @wolfofthedead

#I had to write this post twice because tumblr ate it the first time #self shipping #self ship #selfshipping #self ship community #self insert #selfship community #f/o #red dead 2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #dutch van der linde #hosea matthews #arthur morgan #john marston #sadie adler #otp: bounty hunters and outlaws

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mayra-quijotescx · 1 year ago

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I'm an avid reader of Ask A Manager since I got my first pangs of 'fuck this place actually' at [REDACTED FORMER JOB] in 2019 and wanted to learn how to resume/interview/etc at my best. I still check it from time to time, both for entertainment and to see if there's good advice about Situations similar to what I'm in currently or may face.

So I found advice about an analogous situation to the awkward one I found myself in earlier today, where I learned mid-interview that I was applying for a position with the state. In the analogous situation, the applicant was in the early stages of transition. AAM basically said there's two ways you can address needing to know if your company is going to prioritize political horseshit over their potential employees' wellbeing;

"...waiting to raise [concern] until the offer stage makes it harder for an employer to openly discriminate against you, since if they pull the offer, it’s going to be pretty clear why they pulled it. (This is also why people are also usually advised to wait for the offer to stage to raise that they’re pregnant, need a reasonable accommodation for a disability or a religious practice, or so forth.) But on the other hand, that could put you in a position where you could end up working somewhere that turns out to be unwelcoming or even hostile. (But I do think you’ll get some data simply from the way they respond when you bring it up, and could use that to make a decision.)

So the other option is to raise it at the interview stage, just like you might ask about anything else regarding their culture or other things that are important to you to screen for in an employer. (For example: “I want to let you know that I’m transgender and in the process of transitioning. Can you give me a sense of how LGBT-friendly the office culture is?”) This option carries the risk that if they do want to discriminate against you, they could just not offer you the job and you wouldn’t know that this was the reason — but if you’re comfortable deciding that you wouldn’t want to work for a company like that anyway, then this could be the way to go."

So I have that other approach (wait til job offer) for future attempts, but tbh there was a lot else going on in today's interview that was... informative, let's say, so I don't feel embarrassed at having jumped the gun.

#the person supposedly running the interview and who had scheduled it didn't have her notes w/her and made several mistakes #while also being really brisk about my concerns and passive aggressive about my current line of work.#and she managed to fit all of that into 27 minutes despite being only 1 of the 5 participants. It was nearly impressive.#but hey I've done hiring interviews from the other side. I know they're challenging.#I also know that as the interviewer you have your notes with you before starting the interview along with an idea of what to say/ask

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vsagis · 2 months ago

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While game theory itself is often misidentified or mistaken with similarly named game studies, the term the prisoner's dilemma does make a lightbulb go off in many's heads. The only more recognizable thought experiment would be the trolley problem, but that's mixing mathematics with psychology.

Not that these aren't connected, as everyone is about to be reminded.

It seems the villain's mind is already engaged with an idea borne seconds into the future. "Anywhere's fine," the man says as he waves his hand towards nothing in particular, his feet carrying him to the side, where an empty chair stands. Assuming that he's planning to do something with it would be correct, because soon Izuku's pushing it to the middle of the room and, once that's done, steps aside as if offering the captive a seat. What a kind host you are, Usagi, a more outspoken man could say to that.

Izuku doesn't mind the ones that bite, and he would laugh. It's much more interesting this way. Maybe some other day.

Once this toothless dog is pushed onto the chair, Izuku approaches again and squats in front of the other man with a glimmer in his eye that has never spelled fortune. "All right," he hums, arms close to his body in a spurious promise of nonviolence. "I'm gonna level with you here, pal. You fucked up." Nothing new so far, but it does sound out of character for somebody like him, falling back on words interwoven by not a single threat.

As it turns out, stating a fact too carries just enough weight. The hero's eyes widen when he connects the dots and everything hidden in between, and his mouth parts, ready to promise everything and anything that could grant him safety. It's Izuku's finger raised that makes the other man shut his mouth; it comes paired with a firm but quiet "Not yet."

"Don't get too sad on me now," the villain coos as a smile creeps up onto his lips, "We didn't kill everyone."

If Izuku's calculated everything right, which he usually does, the scout-hero should be coming to. Not the best way to wake up, tightly bound and gagged with a glove, but there's definitely room for worse.

"I'm about to give you an offer, and then I'm going to tell your invisible friend the exact same thing. A pretty annoying guy, by the way," he throws in. "Anyway. There's two options for you here: you either talk or not. There's two outcomes too: you either leave or not." And now for that magical amalgamate of sciences... "You know where I'm going with this?"

Most of the time this is all it takes. No need to paint out the whole picture. And still...

"I'll tell you anyway. Equal opportunity, right?" Izuku pauses, head tilting to the side in a birdlike manner as he observes the hero. "If neither of you talks, nobody gets to leave. If you talk and your friend doesn't, you get to leave, and he doesn't. If both of you talk, however, you might leave, but probably not unaided." And this is how the thing works: each agent gets a higher reward for betraying the other. If Dumb Suit keeps his mouth shut, Invisible Guy should talk. If Dumb Suit talks, so should Invisible Guy, because bruises and broken bones are better than death, and the same reasoning goes the other way around.

What neither may realize is that Izuku's never said he's, too, going to play by these rules.

"So what do you say?"

"Please," (Wrong answer), the hero shakes his head. "We don't have to do this. I could keep you safe," he keeps talking, spitting out words like a machine gun, afraid that if he stops, he will never be allowed to speak again. "Just let us go, and I promise I'll make sure Usagi doesn't retaliate. I can—" But the man's promises are met with a laugh and a shake of the villain's head.

"Nah, I don't think so. Hard to exact revenge on myself," Izuku then says and turns to look at Seph over his shoulder. "What do you think? Should we give him a moment and talk to the other one now?"

PERSEPHONE IS SILENT as they follow behind midoriya with the hero slung over her shoulder. if there's one good thing about having a six-foot-four bodyguard hanging around, it's that they can carry a lot of shit for you — bodies included. this particular situation is not out of the ordinary for seph; it's a role she takes on for fletch often, though usually, hector is the one who extracts information for them.

"extracting information" usually means torture.

she can't imagine what else might be happening here, though who knows? midoriya's a pretty smooth talker — perhaps he'll just interrogate them and kill them nicely. all things considered, he could have treated her much worse than yanking her to the floor by her hair for talking back to him. perhaps he'll surprise her. perhaps he won't.

just six months; that's all they've got to survive here. six months until they can fall back into their comfortable, terrible, numb life. hey — maybe she'll get lucky and adeo will come back in that timeframe, give her the opportunity to go out in flames before they even have to finish the stupid contract.

it's not long before seph is ghosting past izuku into whatever he calls an interrogation room and hefting the wriggling body into her arms. in the end, true to pattern, they picked the soft-looking one to keep alive. the guy looks like he could have gone to UA. his eyes are wide, doelike in their fear, and his costume is incredibly stupid. he's in over his head, but they don't get the sense that he's ready to give up his life for hero secrets. he'll talk.

❝ where should i put this clown? ❞ they ask over the sound of muffled protests. when he wriggles a bit too hard, tries to kick his fastened legs, a look of irritation flashes across her face and she fixes him with a glare that could cut glass.

that's all he needs to settle down.

#the eight precepts of death v.#ah yes my degree finally paid off: referencing maths #howlrs

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edenfenixblogs · 2 years ago

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…

So the thing that’s keeping me awake tonight…

The thing that’s keeping me awake tonight is where to live by the time my baby will start school. Part of me feels it’s stupid to worry about it this early. Assuming I get pregnant right away when I start IUI in 2-3 years (unlikely), that means moving would have to happen by 7 years from now.

However, immigration is logistically HARD and it needs to be planned far in advance. My dilemma is between physical and emotional quality of life.

My financial situation in this country is pretty good. It’ll likely be a lot harder if I move somewhere else. Also, I can work from home with good benefits and a reasonably predictable schedule. Also, very importantly, all my friends and my parents are here. My kid will already only have one parent. I want them to have as much of a support system as possible. I want them to be close to their grandparents. The idea of raising a baby far from my mom is heartbreaking and terrifying. And immigration also means I’d have to find childcare during the days while I work, which is a whole other expense I would not have here. So would school uniforms, which are not much of an expense here.

On the other hand, what if I get sick? What if baby gets sick? Where does the health insurance come from then? What about fucking gun violence? How can I live day to day knowing my kid might get gunned down at their fucking desk? Does anything else really matter when staying here means such a high level of risk for baby? When I get old, will my retirement be enough to avoid burdening baby? Here, social security is drying up, and any and all social safety nets are being gutted. Living somewhere that values social welfare, somewhere I know unexpected health complications won’t ruin my child’s and my financial future is so appealing. So is living somewhere that higher education doesn’t cost as much as a large house in a major city. And if I did stay here, where would I send my kid to school. Even with all the other risks, there’s still the other problems of public v private and the quality of schools in my area.

And if I do move, where would I go? My top two options are Scotland and Canada. I have very feasible paths to visa and citizenship in both places.

Canada is closer and means my family could be a lot more involved in baby’s life. The logistics of moving would be a lot simpler and my career means I’d end up in a pretty liberal province which is great. I do have a family member in Canada, too, which is nice. But I don’t have any particular connection to Canada, emotionally. I think I’d feel more like an outsider there. The cost of living where I’d have to end up is as high as it is where I am now, except I’d have more monthly expenses.

Scotland is very much my speed. A lot of my educational curriculum was from the UK because of IB and also just a randomly tremendous amount of British teachers. I’ve spend substantial amounts of time in the UK and in Scotland specifically. I like how many travel opportunities there are in Scotland: so many countries close by! I think I’d integrate better there. But also, there’s such high levels of antisemitism, but it’s also less likely to be deadly than the antisemitism in America, because fewer guns. The cost of living is more manageable than where I’d have to live in Canada. But maybe that’s selfish of me to consider Scotland when it’s so far away from a support system.

I have a lot of time to figure this all out. But that doesn’t make it any less important or less nerve-wracking. And I resent this country for being such a mess. I wouldn’t have to think about any of this if we just regulated guns and offered healthcare and education like most other countries. I’m so mad.

Do traditional couples or even nontraditional couples think about all this before having a baby? I feel like most Hereros don’t. Idk. I don’t have any answers right now, and probably won’t for awhile. But I needed to type it all out so I can sleep instead of having this all rattling around my head.

#SMBC journey #SMBC journey update

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avocado-writing · 2 years ago

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Crossed Paths

Part 2 of 4

| Tangerine x Reader

| Canon-Typical Violence, Excessive Use of Swears

| Eventual NSFT

| 1.8k Words

Part 1

Tag List: @queenofstarsanddarkness @venusthepirate @luhvbot @fruits1ut

Please let me know if you’d liked to be tagged for future parts!

“Oh, piss,” you mutter under your breath as you pelt it down the street. The way of the job, unfortunately, means that sometimes you do find yourself in this position. That position being that you’re chased through the winding roads of a city by the hired men of the bloke you just offed.

A bullet whizzes past your ear in a manner that is far too close for comfort.

“Oh, piss,” you repeat, with real gusto this time. The men behind you are gaining ground. You’re running out of options. It’s your own fault, you suppose, for not planning ahead. It should have been nice and easy - get in, kill the punter, get out again.

Which, to be fair, you did do. He’d owed some cunt money for too long, and that cunt wanted him dead. He wasn’t expecting you to climb in through his toilet window and strangle him to death while he was dropping the kids off at the pool. And you weren’t expecting him to have hired a fucking squad of bodyguards, one of whom heard the kerfuffle and opened the shitter door to find the last seconds of life slipping from him.

So, you’re running.

This is bad, though. You’re close to the end of the road and have no better options for getting away. Christ, what you’d give for a cyclist with their guard down, or one of those poncy electric scooters they’ve installed all over London.

How your heart aches for home.

You’re so wrapped up in your pining it takes you a second to register the car doing a one-eighty in front of you. You’re only shocked into realisation when the back door is thrown open and you see a familiar face behind it.

“Get in the fucking car,” Tangerine says. There’s no time for arguing or witty banter, so for once you do as you’re told and comply.

Tangerine moves in for a kiss.

Your eyes widen as you find his body in such close proximity, the press of his chest up against yours, the feel of hot breath blown onto your neck. A bead of sweat runs down from his hairline - a wild mess now, a stark contrast to how carefully groomed he was before.

You close your eyes and part your lips.

The sound of the car door slamming behind you throws you back into reality as he pulls back. It accelerates hard as you begin to drive away.

Oh. Right. Yeah, of course. Stupid. Not a kiss then.

“Get down,” he barks, a hand on your shoulder roughly pushing you out of sight from the car window. He aims a gun over your head and starts to fire. The sound of the bullet leaving the chamber is quickly followed by a rain of glass into your hair.

“Careful!” you snap, but he doesn’t respond. Instead he keeps firing, shot after shot, steady and sure. From your position down here - remarkably close to his lap - you can see another holster at his hip, and the second gun inside it. You reach across him and grab it.

“Oi!” he says, caught off guard by your brazenness, but doesn’t stop you from joining him in the shootout. There’s another car behind you, now, as well as a motorcycle to the side. You sigh, hold your breath to keep your hands from shaking too hard, and fire.

The bullet hits the gas tank of the cycle and it’s engulfed in a ball of flame. Tangerine raises an eyebrow, nods, impressed, and changes his sights to be out of the rear window.

“Can you two be a bit more fucking careful?!” Lemon shouts from the driver’s seat - because of course Lemon is in the driver’s seat, who else would it be - “This is my car!”

“Sorry darlin’,” you say at the same time as Tangerine replies, “Oh, you can get a new fucking car.”

Lemon rolls his eyes and floors the accelerator. You’re at risk of losing your balance, but Tangerine’s arm snakes out and wraps around your waist, pulling you flush to the seat.

A quick glance over shows his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.

He has a beautiful throat.

From out the sunroof of the car behind you, one of the men you recognise as a bodyguard stands, aiming a machine gun.

“Oh, piss,” you mutter for the umpteenth time that day, as you and Tangerine fire in unison. This doesn’t look good. The two lads don’t seem to have packed anything heavier than handguns, and you’re sure this car is already riddled with bullet holes.

Great. Not only are you going down, you’re dragging these two down with you.

You try to hide the look of anguish that crosses your face for a split second, but you’re sure Tangerine notices it.

“Hang on!” Lemon shouts as a line of bullets rip their way through the car boot. You risk a glance out of the front windscreen.

A little laugh bubbles up out of you as you see what you’re fast approaching. A bridge. A bascule bridge. A bascule bridge which is currently beginning to rise.

“You’re having a giraffe,” you mutter, too incredulous to even shout it over the gunfire.

“I did tell you to hang on,” Lemon replies through gritted teeth, miraculously overhearing you. As the gap between the two halves of the bridge gets larger, you watch Lemon try and squeeze every mile-per-hour he can out of the engine as you drive up the quickly steepening incline.

The car fucking flies through the air, physics apparently forgotten, as it leaves one half of the bridge and makes the crossing to the other.

You land heavily, with a jolt that would have slammed you into the car roof, if Tangerine wasn’t holding you in place for dear life.

You look over your shoulder.

The tailing car is gone. They didn’t make it after you.

For a few moments, the only sound in the car is three sets of heavy breathing. You’re the one to break it.

“Exceptional driving, Lemon,” you say. You see him grin at the compliment.

“Passed on my first test with no minors,” he replies, a bit smug. The adrenaline leaving your body manifests as a laugh and you collapse back into Tangerine in a fit of giggles.

His arm stays at your waist.

After a few minutes, making sure nobody else is following, he pulls into a side road.

“Right,” Lemon announces, “let’s see what they’ve done to this car then. You two play nice.”

“Lemon? Thanks for getting me,” you say, just before he leaves the car. His smile is more genuine this time.

“Any time, darling.”

You hear muffled swearing as he starts to take in the damage. You look over to Tangerine.

His face is surprisingly hard to read. It looks like there’s something he wants to say to you, but god knows what it might be. The moment is gone when his brow furrows.

“You’re bleeding.”

“Oh shit, am I?”

Your hand goes to the side of your head, where he’s staring. Your fingers come away wet and warm. You sigh. Seems like your ear was clipped. Now you’re out of the heat of the moment, the pain is beginning to set in.

Tangerine must see it in your face, because he starts to take off his suit jacket. You’re confused for a moment until you see him bundle it up and go to hold it to your wound, a makeshift gauze. You pull away.

“I don’t want to wreck your suit, T.”

He doesn’t seem upset about the shortening of his name, just rolls his eyes at you.

“Look, I’m trying to do something fucking nice here,” he says, but it’s surprisingly gentle.

Relenting, you let him press the fabric against you. His spare hand cups your face to keep you still while he tries to stem the bleeding.

It seems almost too intimate to lock eyes this close to each other. His gaze falls down to your lap, where something catches his eye.

“Is that a West Ham tattoo?”

Ah, bollocks. You look down to your forearm where the coverup foundation has begun to rub off. You try to cover up the tattoo as much as possible on jobs. Doesn’t do well for assassins to have such an obvious identifier.

But you’ve never had the heart to get it removed, either.

“Don’t tell me you’re an Arsenal supporter,” you joke, wincing at the pain that’s really making itself known now. Tangerine, for possibly the first time, smiles at something you’ve said. It’s fleeting, but it’s there.

“Arsenal? Fuck off, love. West Ham ‘til I die,” he replies.

You’re a little lightheaded. Probably from the blood loss.

“My uncle’s mate Big Dave did it for me when I was fifteen in exchange for a four pack of Carling,” you explain. Big Dave did not ask for identification or consent forms, and the quality of his workmanship betrays that. The linework is shaky and faded, and the lettering is wonky, but Tangerine brushes his thumb over it like it’s the Mona fucking Lisa.

“Where did you grow up?” you ask, deciding to push the moment further.

There’s a silence, and for a moment you think he won’t answer.

“Newham,” he says, eventually. “We grew up in Newham.”

“You and Lemon?”

“Yeah.”

You nod. Then decide maybe it’s worth giving something up in exchange for this tiny vulnerability he’s shown you.

“I grew up in Hackey,” you whisper.

Another brief flicker of a smile.

“Shithole,” the two of you concur, speaking at the same time.

And for a moment you think this time he really will lean in and kiss you.

Lemon slams the meat of his palm on the top of the doorframe, pulling both of you begrudgingly back into the real world. He gestures towards the rear bumper.

“They got both the fucking brake lights! Just my luck. I liked this car, Tangerine!” he groans, running his hand through his hair.

“I’ll get you a new car! Jesus Christ, it’s not the end of the world,” Tangerine mutters, rolling his eyes.

“I’ll even get it for you if you want, Lem,” you say. Immediately Lemon softens, becoming far less sour than his namesake.

“Nah, it’s not your fault, darling. Don’t worry. This cunt owes me anyway. What’s another car to add to the list,” he says, nodding at Tangerine. He holds open the door inviting the two of you to climb out. “We’ve gotta ditch it either way. Get rid of the evidence before they get over the bridge.”

Outside on the street, the three of you take stock of each other. Lemon is relatively unscathed, but your blood has actively stained Tangerine’s suit, and you can feel the bleeding hasn’t stopped from your ear.

Hardly inconspicuous.

“Better get walking then,” you sigh, and Lemon laughs.

Score: One all.

#Tangerine x reader #tangerine x you #bullet train fanfic #tangerine bullet train #tangerine x y/n

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reidslovely · 2 years ago

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That’s the Price: Cruel World (Chapter Two) (Mob! Peter x Reader)

Request: Sort of. @mango-mastani brought up turning this into a mini series and i caved.

A/N: This could be a heavy chapter for some so please be aware of that, and please read the content warnings before continuing this fic.

Pairing: Mob Boss! Peter Parker x Fem! Reader

Content Warning: Sexual allusions, mentions and brief descriptions of abuse/neglect on part of reader’s father, threats of gun violence, there is a gun present towards the end. Passing mention of blood, and beatings.

As always please reblog and if you feel like it comment!

Dating normally was not an option in this business, Peter knew that from a young age. He had heard the stories of how his parents met, how May and Ben had met. From the age of eight he knew the pattern, knew how he would meet the woman he would one day marry.

“So this is the first date you’re having? With her I mean?”

Asked Harry, as he lounged on the blue velour couch. Peter flattened out his curls with the palm of his hands, looking in the mirror at the blonde. “You’ve known you were going to marry this girl for years and you’ve never talked?”

“I’ve..I’ve sent her letters, and flowers. Besides we’ve talked..just not alone. And I haven’t known for years I’ve known for a year.”

“Does she return the favor?” Harry laughed. “Letters I mean get your head outta the gutter.”

“Doesn’t matter Har, we gotta do this.”

“It’s sad..going on your first date with your arranged wife..at nineteen.”

The way Harry drew it out made Peter bathe himself in embarrassment and guilt. He should have tried harder, harder to get (Y/N)’s affection- break her away from her fathers grip. Harry was lucky, Norman had gotten rid of the arrangement idea for himself after his failed marriage. Now Harry got to indulge in any girl or guy who paid him any bit of their time and affection. Peter grabbed the sports coat off the back of his desk chair, heading towards the door of his bedroom.

“Goodbye Har.” Sarcasm, and annoyance dripping from his tongue. The dirty blonde laughed, raising a glass to him as his friend passed.

“Yeah, tell me all about it when you get back.”

The park the two had agreed to meet at was even more private than (Y/N) had mentioned. This was a blessing to both of them, neither were technically supposed to meet without chaperones present. Peter paced nervously looking back and forth between entrances waiting for her, his sense perking up at the sound of the entrance gate opening. Soft footsteps approached him, he stood turning to meet the girl.

“Hi..(Y/N)…” He fumbled his words out.

“Peter.” The way she looked at him was one of fear, and confusion. But under it all there was a softness. Peter looked at the flowers that rested on top of the chess table, he grabbed them, thrusting them out to her.

“Hydrangeas..they’re your favorite.” Her cheeks pushed up as she smiled slightly, suddenly forgetting what their future held. It was like a normal date.

“You remembered.”

“Of course.”

“Pete..”

Peter lifted his head finding his wife's eyes, her cheeks soft and dusted with her fancy blush. Luring a soft, content hum from his lips as he reached out for her. (Y/N) smiled sweetly, taking her place on his lap, her hands holding his shoulders. “What are you thinking about?”

You..I’ve always thought of you.

“How much of a coward your father is for pulling out of lunch. I mean c’mon I was gonna pay for him.” He laughed bitterly, the two knowing the real meaning of his words.

“I’m sure you were, baby.”

Peter hummed out a laugh, his fingers rubbing over the exposed skin of her legs. (Y/N) hummed looking at him, holding his hand there. The two had gotten closer in the weeks since their wedding, even sharing the bedroom now. However, Peter had only ever gone as far as holding her as she slept at night regardless of her ache for more. Peter Parker was raised a gentleman, for better or for worse.

“Our guests are here.” She says against his cheek, his hands holding her closer.

“And you’re up here with me, instead of downstairs playing hostess?”

(Y/N) giggled, her nose brushing against his cheek. “I find you much more interesting, Mr. Parker.” Peter laughed with her, his hands rubbing her sides.

“Up, Dove. This is in celebration of you.” Peter settles her onto her feet, fixing her dress. “You’re all bunched up. Go to the bathroom and fix that up, and I will go play host? Sounds good?”

(Y/N) nodded, wrapping her arms around his waist in a hug. Peter’s lips pressed against her forehead before sending her off to the bathroom. He closed his office door, fixing his tie and started down the stairs, Miles and Harry blocking his way halfway down.

“We have a problem..” Harry says leaning on the railing. “(Y/N)’s disappeared and we have an unwanted guest.”

“She’s not missing, she's in the bathroom cleaning up.” Peter looks over the two men’s shoulders, knowing whose face to be searching for.

“We can’t find him. He came in through the back, and ran off when we spotted him.” Miles answers as calmly as possible, not wanting to draw attention to themselves. Peter sucked in a breath, his irrational brain wanting to lock (Y/N) in the bathroom until the coast was clear. As always, the rational part took over.

“Okay, Harry, you take the front. Miles, can I trust you with both backdoors?” The young man nodded quickly, rushing off towards the back. “Harry, I need you to set parameters for the outside. He’s not leaving here.”

“But-”

“Alive, I mean. He wants to show his ass here, I’ll let him but he’s gonna deal with the aftermath. If you excuse me, I need to go get my wife.”

Peter coughed under his breath as he turned loosening his tie. Soon he was rushing back up the steps, pushing the bathroom door open; he was not met with the sight of his wife.

Here’s where the irrational part of his brain took over.

“Goddamn it.”

Peter pushes through the different bedroom doors, looking in his upstairs office once again. Peter pushed his way into the locked door of their bedroom. The handle rips off as he slams his body into the door opening it.

“What the fuck!” (Y/N) yelled out a scream covering her naked body with the new dress. She stared at her husband, whose chest heaved up and down all of his feelings boiling to the surface at once. A cold, and painful shiver ran over her body- in that moment she knew something was wrong.

“Why did you lock the door? I..was worried. I couldn’t find you.” Peter calmed himself before approaching her. (Y/N)’s hands shook as she held the dress to her, tears swelling in her eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Peter covered his mouth, as he held her arms.

“My zipper broke on my dress when I was fixing it in the bathroom. I needed..needed to change, I’m sorry.” She apologized to him, her heart pounding in her throat. What had she done to make him upset at her? She hiccuped as he zipped up her new dress, pulling her into a hug.

“Shush, shh shh.” Peter petted her hair, shaking his head. “It’s not you baby, I thought you were in danger was all.”

“Pete, why- why would I be in- he’s here.” She let out a shaky sigh.

“He is, was. I’m not sure where he is, but we can’t let it ruin the night okay? I will be by your side all night. I’ve got people on it.”

He grabbed her face tenderly, pulling her eye to eye with him. She nodded, her jaw tense as she held her hands over his. “If he shows back up here, I guarantee you the only way he’ll be leaving here is in a body bag.”

Peter picked up the old dress that was laying on the bed, patting the fabric on her cheeks. “Do. Not. Leave my side tonight.” He dropped the fabric pulling her into his arms.

“I wasn’t planning on it.” She whispers, nuzzling her head under his chin. (Y/N) let out a shaky breath, her hands dropping from his sides as they broke apart. She tilted her head back to look at him, his lips pulling down slightly as he stared at her.

“C’mon they’re going to get restless. That’s the last thing we want tonight.”

(Y/N) hummed softly, a forced laugh leaving her lips as she and Peter made their way downstairs.

She lit up on his arm, moreso, Peter lit up on her arm. His friends and colleagues had never seen the brunette with such a loving, whimsical smile. (Y/N) couldn’t help but let out a little laugh each time Peter introduced her.

“Ah Curt, Curt. This is my beautiful, adoring wife (Y/N). (Y/N) this is..well I shouldn’t call you by that here, Dr. Connors.” He teased the older man, his grip still firm on (Y/N)’s hip. She had never fel so cared for, so adored. Almost forgetting she should be on high alert for the ghost to make his appearance, but there comes a time where she believes that maybe he had finally left her alone.

“He talks about you like that all the time you know.” (Y/N) turned to the temptress-like voice, before her stood three women all holding a drink. The dark haired girl thrusted the other glass out to her smiling. “You did what none of us could do.” She grins. “I’m Felicia this is Gwen and Mary-Jane.”

The women had been mentioned in passing, all women Peter had dated with in one way or another in his teen years. “Yes, I put two and two together.” (Y/N) smiles at the women.

She laughed taking the glass filled with the red liquid, like clockwork she looked over her shoulder checking Peter was still in her line of sight. Swirling the wine, she thought of conversation topics; this was still all so new to her.

“I mean it’s not like we had a choice, we’ve practically had this arrangement since we were kids.”

The girls laughed in response.

It wasn’t a joke.

However, she forced out a laugh with them. “Well congrats, really.” Gwen smiles. “You’re one of us now.”

“I am honored. Are there any expectations from me?” (Y/N) joked, settling into the dynamic. Mary-Jane shook her head, her hand grabbing (Y/N)’s forearm lightly.

“Of course not, you’re the wife you just have to tell us the juicy details.”

(Y/N) jumped at the sudden firm hand finding her lower back, a thumb stroking it’s way across. “Have you inducted my wife to your coven Miss Hardy?” Peter teased, nursing his whiskey.

“She was a willing participant.” Felicia's sweet voice hummed. Peter scoffed with a laugh, pressing his lips to (Y/N)’s temple. Her eyes peered up at him watching his every facial movement, he talked with the women so politely and respectfully. Asking about their jobs, Gwen and Harry’s newborn letting them know that if they ever needed anything to reach out. It was astonishing to (Y/N), that a man of Peter’s status treated women like equals.

“I need to refill my glass.” He says, (Y/N) jumps from their embrace taking his glass from his hand. “Dove, I’m a grown man, I can get it myself.”

“No please. I’ll be right back, Harry is at the bar. I'll have eyes on me.”

Dodging his argument, (Y/N) turned and rushed to the bar before Peter could say no. The bar was lined with liquor, grabbing the bourbon from the bottom shelf she poured it over the ice in his glass.

“Mrs. Parker.” Harry says urgently, as he rushed around the bar. “I need you to follo-“

A hand reached over the bar clamping down on (Y/N)’s forearm, shock settles over her body as the glass crashes to the ground.

“You think you can just throw me out of your own wedding? Forget about me?” The ghost she had forgotten abut yells in her face, practically pulling her across the bar. Osborn threw himself across the bar, pulling Tony back; pulling (Y/N) further across the bar in the fight.

“Peter!”

There was a mix of voices yelling the name, and (Y/N) wasn’t even sure if he heard them. Her eyes screwed shut, her mouth agape in pain. “Let me go, please, please. I’m sorry”

Her tears felt hot against her cheeks, as they rolled down into her mouth.

“You are so ungrateful. Without me you wouldn’t be here, you would be nothing. And you throw me out of an event I spent your whole life putting together. You fucking bitch. I have half the mind to pull you across this bar and show you your-“

Click.

The steel click of the handgun is the only other sound that filled the room besides (Y/N)’s begs and plea on top of her fathers yelling.

“You have not even five seconds to step away from her or I will lay your brains out on this floor.” Peter’s calm demeanor set an eerie feeling over the room.

“Yeah or wha-“

Peter pushed the barrel of the gun deeper against Tony’s temple, the sheer force pushing Tony’s head the other direction.

“I said. Walk. I don’t like repeating myself.”

Peter grabbed the back of Tony’s suit pulling him off (Y/N). Forcing him to walk towards his office doors. Harry grabbed the other side of Tony’s jacket, leading the way.

“Party is over, thank you everyone for coming and for your lovely gifts. Now, Miles will show you all to your cars and you can expect thank you cards very soon.”

As if nothing happened, everyone had gone back to chatting as they exited the house. (Y/N) dropped behind the bar, shaking and holding her legs closer to her. There were no tears, she couldn’t cry even if she wanted to.

“(Y/N)..” Gwen’s soft voice overtook her sense, her freshly manicured hands reaching out to her, (Y/N) took them as support as she lifted herself from the space behind the bar. She glanced at Peter's office. There were no screams, no arguing, not even a gunshot.

“No, no. Let’s get you to lay down.”

There was no fight left, she leaned on Gwen as she walked up the steps her body finally giving into the tiredness that washes over her. Gwen laid (Y/N) on the bed, and pulled her shoes off before covering her up.

“It’s alright, you need to stay up here. Go to sleep, okay.” Gwen walked to the door, closing it softly behind her.

As much as she wanted to give into the sleep she couldn’t, she tossed and threw herself around. Even using what little strength she had left to get up and change into her nightgown thinking she just needed to be more comfortable. Subconsciously, she knew it was the missing body in the bed. The only touch that could comfort her in moments like these.

(Y/N) let out a shaky breath, rolling in the bed to watch the door. Counting down, wishing that he’d walk in- but ultimately she had no idea how long it would be. She didn’t know how long it had been since the argument. She closed her eyes holding Peter’s pillow close to her chest, her eyes closing. Finally feeling warm, her body started to drift into that sweet comfort; the creaking sound for the wood door opening her sense back up.

“Peter?”

“Oh, Dove, I'm sorry.” Peter held himself at a distance, something he never did with her. Avoiding her gaze in the dark room, his hands shoved into his pockets. “Go back to sleep, I’ll be in soon.”

(Y/N) watched as he disappeared into the bathroom, the door shutting behind him. The water in the sink ran for what felt like forever, she waited like a kid for him to walk out. Finally, when the door opened and Peter settled into bed everything felt normal again. Except his distance, he laid on his left side tonight, not his right facing her. She stared at his back for only a couple seconds before pulling the fabric of his shirt. Without words he knew what she wanted, he turned to her pulling her to his chest. As his hands pulled on her she saw the red that lined his nail beds, the bruising on his knuckles, and the busted vein that left a ugly mark. Refusing to let her see it he moved his hands flat against her back, holding her as close as humanly possible.

“I’m so sorry Peter.” She says her hands rubbing his chest. Her guilt building in her chest, she drove him to that point.

“No, no. None of that- you are not to blame. He is the monster, not me. Not you.” Peter brought his hand to cradle her face, his thumb rubbing softly.

“Did you kill him?”

The question shocked Peter to a point of laughter. “No. I wish I had.” His breath came out rough, his thumb stroking her cheek. ‘Harry pulled me off. He’s dropping him off at a hospital, no questions asked.”

(Y/N) kissed his palm, her eyes fluttering closed.

“That is the price I pay for you. For my love for you.” The devotion in his voice could drive her to tears. “I would do anything for you, you know that right? Protect you to any extent I have too.” He spoke so tenderly, the tears overflowed.

“I know, I do.”

Their lips found one another like magnets, her hands grabbing his shirt in the heat of passion. This was what safety felt like, here in this moment she knew that nothing would ever take away the love they had for each other.

Tags: If you were forgotten let me know!

@a-lumos-in-the-nox @bxcketbarnes @sincericida @megmehz @andrews-lovr @helloheyhihowdyheya @toomanyfictionalboyfriends @lateridk @thatsassyhufflepuff @adhdhufflepuff @theonlymaddie

#tasm spiderman #tasm spiderman x reader #peter parker x fem #tasm peter parker x reader #peter parker x self insert #tasm fic #tasm andrew garfield #tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm!peter imagine #mob!peter parker #mob peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction

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madame-wilsonn · 2 years ago

Text

Where the home is

MASTERLIST

Request: I'd like to request a fluffy fic with Arthur where he gets to live in the country with his love (very cottage core), raise his children (awkwardly but adorably), and run a garage. I'd love to know how his life would have turned out if the vendetta hadn't happened so I supposed this is a "fix it" fic? I know you're really good at those! I don't have a dialogue prompt for you, but perhaps an "ambitious man" comes to the garage and Arthur's wife worries he'll want to go back to his gangster lifestyle, but he assures her he's happy? (You don't have to take that direction tho.) - @zablife

Summary: after a certain visit, you fear Arthur might not be happy with your life anymore.

A/N: Thank you so much for your request, lee!! I was really hesitant at the beginning with this story but I still hope I did justice to the request! Nonetheless, I had a lot of fun writing for Arthur and imagining a s4-free life! Clearly, this man doesn’t get enough love so I did my best to change that! I really hope you like it!!

And special thanks to @thesoldiersminute for making the perfect gifset to fit my story in such a short time (again), you’re a real hero 💗

Warnings: a bit of angst and fluff!!

Word count: 3,074 words

“Arthur, breakfast is ready!” you yelled out the kitchen window, setting up a plate of scrambled eggs on the table.

Your husband joined you a few seconds later, wrapping his free arm around your waist. He kissed your cheek tenderly, handing you Billy.

“Hello, little guy,” you cooed, tickling his neck.

You pulled out the high chair, making sure he was safely seated before taking place next to Arthur.

“So, what are your plans today?”

“Hmm…gotta go to the garage,” he explained, eating a mouthful of toast. “I’ll come back for lunch, we can go pick those apples for your pie, yeah?”

A soft smile graced your lips, your hand reaching to squeeze his.

He got up, quickly sipping the last of his tea. One kiss on your forehead, one kiss on Billy’s and he left. You watched him get into the car through the window, chuckling when he waved at you, a huge grin on his face.

This was your new routine, your new life. Far from the dust and soot of Birmingham.

Arthur’s last deal got him enough money to buy this cottage, with enough land to grow chickens and have a garden. It all seemed like a dream. Watching your husband play with your son, prepare dinner with him next to you.

You never thought Arthur would finally accept giving up the Shelby business. It became the only option for him once he learned you were pregnant. He didn’t want to raise kids in the middle of gang fights, drugs, and gun powder.

His little family was his last shot to a happy, brighter future and he didn’t want to ruin it. That’s what he would tell you.

However, you couldn’t help but wonder if he missed his old life sometimes. Of course, you knew he was happy with you and the countryside allowed him to fulfill long-forgotten dreams. But was this really enough?

You sighed, grabbing a screaming Billy in your arms.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, we’re going to see Dada. Come on, you can stop crying, now.”

At the mention of his father, your two years old began calming down, repeating “Dada?” until you explained yourself again.

Ever since Arthur left this morning, Billy did not stop asking for him. And what was once a sweet little boy, turned into a screaming, kicking monster. Nothing could silence him. No matter how many toys you brought to his attention, no matter how many cookies you tried to bribe him with. All he wanted was his father.

Which is why you found yourself entering the garage a few minutes later. Oliver— one of Arthur’s mechanics— warned you your husband was in a meeting with some man. You waited outside the office, trying to distract Billy.

Finally, the door opened. A man came out first, dressed elegantly with a hat in his hand. You had never seen him before, not even in the village. But considering the three-piece suit he wore, you could only guess he came from the city.

A smile stretched your lips as Arthur came out, a confused look on his face. The stranger looked at you, then to your husband, expectedly.

“Mr. Lavin, this is my wife, Y/N.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Shelby,” he shook your hand as you replied then grabbed a small card from his pocket, “Alright, here is my card. You can call me when you’ve made a decision. Have a nice day.”

You frowned, staring at Mr. Lavin exiting the building and turning back to Arthur.

“Who was he?”

“Oh, he sells cars. Wants to join our businesses together,” he explained, taking Billy from you. “Did you miss daddy, hm?”

Your toddler giggled, resting his head on Arthur’s shoulder.

“What do you mean?”

“Well…he’d keep selling the cars and I would deal with fixing them when it’s needed. And his company is much bigger which would increase benefits, I’d make more money.”

You hummed, realizing this man just proposed to give Arthur his old life back. The small voice of insecurity grew louder and louder at the sight of your husband, thrilled with the idea of expanding his business.

“Love? Is everything okay?”

You focused your attention back on Arthur who had Billy sitting on his knees. A sight you’d never get tired of. Although your husband could be quite clumsy and rough on the edges, you discovered a whole new side of him when he met his son. You had never seen your Arthur so happy. And you were absolutely sure that this lifestyle was the best for him and for Billy. But you were terrified that he may prefer his previous life and accept the businessman’s proposal.

“Yes, yes, I’m alright,” you cleared your throat, pushing your worries further down in your heart. “We just came here because Billy couldn’t stop crying but we should head back now.”

“You know what? I’m going home with you,” Arthur got up from his chair, still carrying his son in his arms. “It’s calm today, I can let Oliver handle it so that little rascal doesn’t drive you mad,” he added that last part while tickling Billy.

With one hand against your back, Arthur guided you outside where the car was parked. The way back home passed in a flash. Staring out of the window, you were only half-listening to your husband. All you could think about was the businessman in his classy suit. Arthur dressed the same way when you met him. His hair used to be shorter. He was close to his family and worked with them at the company.

And then you married him.

You weren’t a controlling wife but you saw how your brother-in-law, Thomas, manipulated Arthur into doing dangerous jobs. No matter how hard you tried to help your husband to give up his drug consumption, his brother would always come back with a man to threaten, beat up or kill.

Of course, he promised it was the last step to become a fully legal company. You believed him in the beginning until Arthur’s state got worse. Your pregnancy was the last thing to convince him to move away.

You lived a happy life, raising your child in the middle of green fields and chickens. Your husband had almost no contact with his brother except for the big family reunions.

You contented yourself with what you had. Granted, it was a less glamorous lifestyle but you never missed any of it. You tried to convince yourself Arthur felt the same way when you had some doubts. It used to work, only by seeing how much better he had gotten.

But this morning’s meeting made you question everything.

“Y/N? Hey!” blinking a few times, you looked at Arthur who opened the door for you. “We’re home.”

You thanked him with a tight smile, your mind still clouded with your doubts and insecurities. You were aware you could share your feelings, and maybe talk about different solutions to make everyone happy. But you knew that as soon as you admitted how you felt, there was no taking it back and you didn’t want Arthur’s decision to depend on what you wanted. Especially if it meant that he could be happy.

Strolling through the garden, you stopped in front of each tree to collect the apples. Arthur had Billy sitting around his shoulder, gleefully trying to catch the red and green fruits.

“Oh, this one is beautiful. Good job, Billy,” your husband exclaimed when he saw his son’s find.

You adored apple picking, it was always a lovely moment. But you couldn’t enjoy yourself as much today. Your incessant ruminations were eating your general cheerfulness away, making you quieter than usual.

Arthur had picked up on your strange behavior ever since you visited him at the garage this morning but he thought you were just tired. Your growing silence only turned his slight concern into worry.

Noticing your absentminded state, he gently put Billy on the ground, letting him meander off in the field. Arthur brought you closer to him, passing an arm around your shoulders.

“Are you alright?”

You nodded, tiptoeing to grab one of the apples that caught your eye but you were too short. Before you could do anything else, you found the fruit in your hand, your fingers grazing Arthur’s calloused ones.

“Thank you,” you tried to smile as naturally as your troubled state allowed you to. Glancing at your basket, you added. “I think we have enough apples for now.”

You began walking back to your house, Arthur right behind you. As you entered your kitchen, your husband announced he would be taking Billy to the nursery for his nap. You began working on your dough, the house quiet and peaceful.

However, the silence only made the buzzing in your mind stronger and louder. Your thoughts wandering and spiraling until you felt dizzy.

You kept mixing the batter mechanically, your arms sore. But the pain was incomparable to the despair you found yourself in. There was no way to win. Either you forced your husband to give up something he loved. Or you let him even though it would wreck the balance you had installed.

“Y/N?”

You jumped as Arthur’s voice startled you. A shaky breath escaped your lips, turning your head to look at him.

“Billy’s asleep. Can I help you?” he stood in the kitchen’s door frame, his gentle eyes gauging your expression.

“You can cut the apples if you want,” your tone came out harsher than you expected. Arthur frowned at your cold voice, hesitantly walking into the room.

As he peeled the fruits, he tried to replay in his mind the last few hours of the day. You were obviously upset, more likely about something he did. But the poor man had no idea. It was neither your birthday nor your anniversary. He fixed the lightbulbs in the hallway like you asked. He even brought you fresh flowers yesterday when he noticed the old ones started to wilt.

And you seemed perfectly fine this morning.

So he began thinking about the events that must have happened between the time he left for work and now. You did seem pretty upset when you arrived at the garage but he hadn’t seen you for hours.

Arthur dropped his knife as he realized he may have found the issue. Maybe you were upset that he left you alone with Billy to work instead of helping you at home. But you usually didn’t mind…

Regardless, it seemed to have bothered you today and as your husband, he couldn’t be the reason behind your low spirits.

He took the time to cut the apples the way you showed him, making sure they were “thin but not too much”. He took his time, trying to be as diligent as his rough hands allowed him to. The last thing he wanted was to make you even angrier with chunky apple bits or paper-thin ones.

Sheepishly, he walked to the sink, setting the bowl next to you. He observed you for a moment, noticing the deep frown on your forehead. It was now or never.

Arthur cleared his throat, trying to gain some courage before hugging your waist from behind.

“I-I’m sorry for this morning,” he whispered, resting his cheek against yours.

As soon as the words hit your ears, your movements stopped. You clenched your jaw as you inhaled deeply, wondering what gave you away.

“I promise to stay home more often to help you with the baby. I’ll hire more men at the garage so you don’t have to be alone when he gets fussy like this morning.”

You frowned, confused. You tried to understand his speech but no matter how you analyzed it, it didn’t make any sense.

“What are you talking about, Arthur?” you turned around, dusting your hands on your apron. He didn’t reply right away, staring at you strangely.

“I-I thought you were mad because I went to work this morning. Billy was giving you a hard time and I wasn’t here to help so I thought…you’re not angry about that?”

You sighed, exasperated. It wasn’t his fault and you shouldn’t have been angry at him. But how he completely missed the reason you were so upset just…ticked you off.

You went back to your pie, trying to distract yourself to not cause a fight but Arthur couldn’t give up.

“But…why are you mad? Did I do something to-”

“You didn’t do anything, Arthur. It’s fine.”

You heard him scoff, letting go of your waist.

“Then why have you been like this the whole day?”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you stayed quiet. You reminded yourself that Billy was asleep and how hard it would be to calm him down if he woke up. You focused all your attention on the dough before you, trying to ignore your husband. Trying to ignore the growing red monster in your chest.

But Arthur called your name, a hand on your shoulder and you snapped: “because I feel you’re not happy anymore and I’m fucking terrified! There!”

His hand left your shoulder and you took advantage of that second of disbelief to escape, throwing your apron on the table.

You walked to your favorite tree in the garden— the one with the swing attached to it. It was a small gift from Arthur. He built it when you moved in after you mentioned having a similar one in your childhood home.

You let out a shaky sigh, feeling the whole world crumble around you. You couldn’t help but feel a pinch of guilt in your chest, realizing you had convinced yourself you lived a perfect life when it wasn’t the case. You prided yourself in your family, having built a happy and safe household.

But maybe all you did was manipulate Arthur into accepting what you considered a “better” lifestyle.

Tightening your hold on the edge of the swing, you allowed yourself a minute, crying your frustrations away. You breathed in the fresh, summer breeze, slowly calming yourself down.

You were aware your reaction had been disproportionate and you needed to apologize to Arthur for your behavior. You just wished you could stay here forever, shut yourself away in joyful memories. If you focused enough, you could almost feel the wind caressing your cheeks and hear Billy’s precious giggles as Arthur pushed the swing.

But running away from your problems never really made them go away.

Opening the door as quietly as you could, you found Arthur on one of the sofas. Billy must have just woken up as he lay in his father’s arm, nodding on and off against his chest. You played with your fingers anxiously, entering the living room.

Your husband’s gaze on you almost made your cheeks heat up. He had every right to get mad at you for your outburst, to tell you how ridiculous it was and make you feel even smaller than you already did.

Instead, he extended his hand to you, allowing you to sit on his lap. You nuzzled your face against his neck, bringing an arm around Billy as well.

“What’s going on, hm?” Arthur finally asked, tenderly brushing the hair out of your face.

“Do you miss your old life?”

Your question made him frown. He had no idea where this was coming from. You knew everything about his past. You had stood up against his demons, dragging him out of the hell he was a prisoner of. Without you, he would probably not even be here anymore. So why would you ask him that?

“No, love. Why would I?” he replied, his confusion clear in his tone.

“I’m scared you do…sometimes,” you whispered so quietly a part of you hoped he wouldn’t hear.

“What?”

“I’m not angry at you for that. I understand…I think. I’ll always do what’s necessary to make you happy but I’m not sure it’s the best decision and-”

“What are you talking about?” he interrupted, just as confused as before.

“I’m talking about the job, Arthur!” you exclaimed, getting up. “That businessman who came this morning! He’s just offered you your old life back!”

Your husband blinked, everything finally clicking in his mind. Sighing, he put Billy on the sofa and joined you in the middle of the room.

“I never planned on accepting it,” he admitted, taking your hands in his.

You shook your head. “You’re just saying this because I don’t like that idea.”

“I’m not,” Arthur leaned in, kissing your forehead. “Expanding my business means I’d have to work in the city, I’ll be less home. I don’t want that. I don’t want to go back.”

You found yourself melting in his touch, your worry slowly withering.

“I want to be around. I want to see Billy grow and have more children. And the future I imagine is here, in the countryside with my family. Because that’s where my home is,” he explained, bringing tears to your eyes. “I am the happiest man on this whole planet. Never thought it was even possible to feel that way. But you give me that and that’s all I want.” You felt another kiss against the crown of your head. “Also, working for those big companies means cutting my hair and I like it long.”

You giggled at his comment, hugging him closer. Arthur chuckled, his heart welling up as your laugh resonated through the house.

Feeling a small tug on his pants, he looked down to see Billy, extending his chubby arms towards you. “Dada. Hug,” he kept repeating.

“Oh, you wanna join, little man?” Arthur bent down.

You embraced your boys as tight as you could, contentment filling the void you had felt. Arthur’s earnest words eased your insecurities, shutting down the ugly voices in your head.

“I want this as well,” you whispered after a beat of silence. Your husband gazed at you, dropping Billy on the ground. “Everything you said, I want it too.”

A radiant smile appeared on his face, his eyes gleaming under the afternoon sun. Caressing your cheeks, Arthur brought your lips to his. Your fingers got lost in his hair as you felt your knees grow weaker.

“What do you say we leave Billy with John and Esme for a few days and have the weekend for ourselves?” he muttered, eyes growing darker.

“Sounds like a brilliant idea.”

#arthur shelby x reader #arthur my bestie #arthur shelby #peaky blinders #ma copine lee #lee tag ♡#friends #anna's grand ball #500 followers celebration #anna’s fics

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something-tofightfor · 2 years ago

Text

Well Oiled (Kinktober #6)

Pairing: Jack Daniels x female reader (Agent Cider) - ‘Buried’ Pairing

Word count: 11,076

Kinktober prompt: Temperature play

Rating: EXPLICIT. But also sort of tame for a kinktober story?

Warnings: Mentions of previous injury, needles, immobilization (brief)

Summary: When you and Jack come home from New York, Ginger’s got a little something waiting for you. Yes, it’s a “welcome home” present ... no, it’s not anything typical.

Author’s Note:

I haven’t written a lengthy piece for Jack and Cider in a LONG TIME... and once I started writing this one, I couldn’t stop.

It takes place about 7 months after Buried’s ending (even though we aren’t there yet) ... so this is yet another sneak peek into their future.

Thank you all for being patient with me on these two; I definitely feel more inspired to get back to them now.

Want to read Buried? Check out the masterlist here!

“Stop playing with that.” You leaned over, speaking quietly into his ear. “This night is for you, Jack. You should be paying attention.”

It took him a few seconds but the man finally acknowledged you with a sigh, pushing the candle back toward the center of the table and then lifting his hand to stare at his fingers. You watched the wax on the tips harden and then crumble as Jack rubbed his fingers together, littering the tabletop with small, irregularly shaped remnants. “I know.” He didn’t say anything else, though, the man’s eyes forward and focused on where a small group of the other Statesman New York employees were gathered, talking amongst themselves.

“Why do I get the feeling you’d rather be anywhere but here?” You tried again, sighing as you settled back into your seat, fingertips drumming against the tabletop. He looks unsettled. He looks … like he did in Seattle.

“Because I’d rather be anywhere but here.” Jack said your name, turning his head to look at you. “I was barely here for a full year, and they’re treatin’ me like -”

“They’re celebrating that you’re good at your job, Jack.” Meeting his eyes, you shrugged. “This job, the real job, all of it.” His lips twitched and you continued, reaching for his hand. “They’re going to miss you when you go back to Kentucky, and that shouldn’t surprise you.” Time to pull out the big guns. Head shaking back and forth, you squeezed his hand. “Look, I know you don’t like the idea of this all being for you, but… it is. And you can either sit here and ignore everyone while I get up and socialize by myself, or you and I can go and play nice with these people for another hour and a half before we can leave without it being weird.”

“Really?” His eyes widened with hope, Jack’s lips parting so that the tip of his tongue was visible. “I thought you’d want to stay until -”

“Jack, I’d love to stay until they close the bar and kick us out, but if you’re not happy, you’re not happy, and I’d much rather be home with you.” The words rolled off of your tongue with ease, unlike they had in the first weeks after you’d arrived in New York with him. “But we can’t leave this early since you are the guest of honor. So, option one is for you to stay sitting at this table. I’ll get up and go make excuses about how you’re just worrying about what happens with all the work you’ve done here when we get back to Kentucky. Option two is that we both get up and you smile and pretend -”

“Hour and a half?” You nodded, watching as a small smile tugged on his lips, betraying his non-committal tone. “And then we can go?” Another nod, and Jack leaned in even closer, taking a breath. “Alright.” Jack closed the distance between the two of you, lips finding the corner of your mouth and lingering there. He raised one hand to cradle the back of your head before pulling away, his touch immediately comforting you like it had so many times before. “Alright, Agent. Let’s go be friendly.”

—

As promised, the two of you stepped through the doorway of his apartment under two hours later. You used the toe of one boot to push a packed box to the side, giving you more open space as you entered the room.

He was in a better mood, mostly thanks to the few drinks that the two of you had enjoyed from the bar - but you knew that it was also because after that night, Jack wouldn’t ever have to see most of the people that had been at the party again. And it’s not that he doesn’t like them, it’s just … they’re not our people.

You were leaving for Kentucky two days later, Champ calling the two of you back to headquarters after nearly six months of you being on location with Jack - and both of you were excited.

For him, it meant a chance to step completely away from the distillery side of the company. For you, it meant getting back to the routine you’d desperately missed after being sidelined because of your memory loss. And it means proving that I can still do what they hired me to do. It also meant that when you were sent out on paired missions, you’d be with Jack every single time. Thanks to Champ … and to Jack.

But before then, you and Jack had two full days off to spend together. And we’re going to make the most of this. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” You undid the zipper on your boot, sliding it off before doing the same to the second one, leaving them by the door and next to his. “I told you that everyone was just trying to tell you how much they appreciate what you’ve been able to do since you got here.”

“I know.” He was in the kitchen, the man leaning into the open refrigerator door and grabbing two bottles of beer. “I just… being here has been a constant reminder of me runnin’ from Kentucky. I’m just glad that it’s…” He sighed, setting the bottles down on the counter and eyeing you. “Glad it’s over. It’s not the job here I didn’t like, it’s everything that … being here makes me think about.

You knew that he meant more than just leaving Kentucky for an undetermined period of time. It’s Stephanie and the other women he was with while he was here. You also knew that he was referring to keeping St. Paul from you for months and not being able to do a damn thing about it. But he has to stop beating himself up over all of it.

“None of that matters anymore.” You crossed the living room and reached for one of the beers, twisting the cap off and taking a drink, fingers wrapped around the icy-cold bottle neck. “I have to admit though, seeing you do actual business for the last few months has been… nice.”

“I don’t think anyone’s ever accused me of bein’ nice before.” Jack arched a brow and sipped from his beer, nose wrinkling as he swallowed. “But I guess I’m not surprised it’s you that did it first.”

“Love you too, Jack.” Reaching out, you clinked the neck of your bottle with his and tilted your head back, taking another drink. “So. We’re just about packed up. What do you want to do for the next two days? We’re going to be really busy as soon as we get back to Kentucky.”

There were a lot of options - and plenty of things that you hadn’t had the opportunity to do while in the city, but the truth was that you didn’t want to do any of them. “We are.” Jack stepped around you and into the living room, his hand trailing over your lower back and sending a surge of warmth through you as he urged you to follow him. “Champ already sent over the itinerary.”

“Yeah, I got that too.” You dropped down onto the couch next to him, settling in against the arm of it. In the same motion, you lifted your legs to drape them over his, sighing as you got comfortable. “They waited on starting with the recruits until we got back. And it’s probably because he wanted you there for it, which I understand.” You drank again and then frowned. “Those training days are long, though. I remember being exhausted by the end of them.” Exhausted and overwhelmed.

“Even the ones you spent with me?” He raised a brow, smirking. “Learnin’ to shoot isn’t supposed to be tiring.”

“No, I was exhausted by being around you for ten hours a day for two weeks straight, Whiskey.” He snorted at that, gently slapping your calf before he wrapped his hand around it, squeezing. His hands are so big. “And we did a lot more in those sessions than teach me to shoot.” He hummed in agreement, the heat of his fingers reassuring against your leg. “It’s going to be interesting going back.”

“Yeah?” He sipped his drink again, head turning toward you. “Why’s that?” You know why. But it took you a few seconds to reply, your eyes locked with Jack’s.

“With the exception of the few solo missions you’ve been on, you and I have been together almost constantly for the last seven months.” Picking at the label on the beer bottle with one finger, to give yourself more time, you shrugged. “Ever since we got back from that retreat. We had normal schedules here, Jack. We worked in the same office every day. I… got used to not having to share you.”

That was something that you hadn’t ever wanted to admit to the man before. Not because you were ashamed at how much he meant to you, but because you didn’t like seeming needy. But that’s only if he realizes exactly what I mean by sharing him.

He stayed silent for long moments and then said your name, tone laced with concern that also filled his eyes, his hand tightening on your leg when he spoke. “You know you’re only the second woman in my life that’s never had to worry about sharin’ me, right?”

His words hit you hard, and for a few seconds, your chest was so tight that you couldn’t reply. I do, but it’s not that simple. “I know. And I know what we do as Statesman Agents, Jack. What it requires sometimes, but … it’s been nice not having to think about that.”

It had hurt enough before the two of you had been together to know when he was tasked with a “hands on” mission with a female target. But even those assignments hadn’t hurt as much as knowing he was with other women in his free time. Because he was single and he had every right to be. “Yeah.” He sighed, his eyes darkening briefly, the man’s expression shifting from contemplation into a deep frown. “Yeah, it has.”

“I didn’t mean to ruin the night.” You drank again, savoring the taste of the beer on your tongue before you went on. “I’m excited to go back home. Now that it’s so close, though, it’s real.” He stayed quiet, his fingers flexing around the bottle he held, and then Jack leaned forward, setting it down on the table before holding his hands out to you.

You reacted right away, setting your drink down, too before repositioning yourself so that you were seated on his lap, your back against the left side of his chest. Jack’s arm wound around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his body, and when he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead, you felt the understanding in the gesture.

“You didn’t ruin anything.” Jack mumbled the reassurance, his fingers dropping from your shoulder to your bicep, the chilled pads making contact with your skin and sending a small shiver through you. “I can’t wait to be back home in Kentucky with you, Agent.”

You couldn’t wait either, and as nervous as you were about what came next, it was hard to worry much when you were in Jack’s arms, the scent of him thick in the air. It’s going to be different. Nothing changes just because we’re going back. It won’t … won’t be how it was before. “If you say so.” It was almost too quiet for either of you to hear, but you knew he had, Jack’s hold on you tightening as he kissed you again, that time on your temple.

His mustache tickled your skin and then, only moments later you felt him smiling, his mouth straying even lower and hovering just in front of your ear. “How ‘bout we go into the bedroom and I show you so?

You’d rarely been able to tell the man no - and you certainly weren’t about to start that night. “Alright Jack.” Pulling away and raising one hand to comb your fingers through his hair, you winked. “But only if you think you can.”

He grinned, the light coming back into his eyes, and only seconds later you were both on your feet, Jack leading you down the hallway and toward the bedroom, fingers linked with yours.

—

Being back in Kentucky was exhausting, but Jack wouldn’t ever admit it to anyone but himself. You’re gettin’ old, Daniels.

Flying back in one of the Statesman jets, Jack passed on the opportunity to sit in the cockpit in favor of a few more hours alone with you, and things had seemed almost normal. But you’d been right - as soon as you were back on distillery property, the relatively easy day to day routine you’d had in New York had all but disappeared.

Neither of you were scheduled for an actual assignment until recruit training was completed, but that didn’t mean either of you had down time. Though you’d helped in previous years, the current class was the first one that you were actually responsible for leading training sessions with. The result? Both of you getting pulled to opposite wings of the facility on a daily basis.

And after the lax schedules you’d both adopted in New York, by the time the two of you made it back to one of the apartments for the night you were drained. Often, you managed to do nothing more than shower, eat, and fall asleep together on the couch before one of you woke and urged the other to bed.

It had become your new routine over the previous week, and Jack hated it. Every fuckin’ minute of it. But it won’t be like this forever. Jack scrubbed a hand over his face, checking the time on the clock hanging on the far wall. As soon as we get through these new kids, we’ll… we’ll be fine.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone saying his name, and Jack turned to face the recruit that he’d spent the week with - a young woman whose codename was Midori - one hand on his hip. “Yeah?”

She was smart and talented, with stunningly pretty dark red hair, and in the earlier days, Jack would have flirted shamelessly. He still had flirted with Midori, much in the same way he had with you while working with you - showing her different distraction techniques that potential enemies might use and trying to knock her off kilter. But there was nothing behind it - the flirtation was merely for training purposes, and he felt no sadness about that fact.

“What’s next?” She tightened her ponytail and then flexed her fingers, wetting her lips as she stared up at Jack. “We’ve only got about a half hour left today. Can we go back to the hand to hand? I almost disarmed you the other day, and I’d like to try again, Agent Whiskey.” He watched the way she looked at him - enthusiasm veiled thinly with confidence, and Jack couldn’t stop the smile from appearing on his face, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners in appreciation of her boldness.

“Sure. We -” He was cut off by the sound of the far door opening, Jack’s eyes moving toward it at the same time Midori turned on one heel to look for the source of the sound. You walked in and gave both of them a broad smile, straightening your shirt as you crossed the room. Hello, gorgeous. Jack’s breath caught, the man swallowing with an audible click before he said anything. “What’re you doin’ here, Agent? Shouldn’t you be with Mezcal?”

“I should.” You rolled your eyes, finally reaching where the two of them were standing, and Jack felt his heart rate quicken as you reached out, fingertips brushing over his bare forearm before you pulled it back, crossing both arms over your chest. “But he ate something that didn’t agree with him at breakfast, and even Ginger can’t immediately cure the symptoms of food poisoning. I’ve been catching up on paperwork since a little after lunch.”

“Wait, he got sick? From the cafeteria here?” Midori’s eyes widened. “I feel fine, though. What did -” You waved her off, rolling your eyes.

“Mezcal didn’t eat in the caf this morning. From what he told me and Ginger, he ate leftovers before he came to train… and those leftovers were sitting out all night.” Yuck. Jack winced in sympathy, remembering the days when he’d been Mezcal’s age and he’d assumed his stomach was made of cast iron. “So we’re gonna see how he feels tomorrow. Ginger gave him a shot to stop the symptoms, but she said he needs to sleep it off.” Yuck.

“So you’re here to watch me train with Whiskey?” Midori grinned at you, excitement in her voice. “I was just telling him that I want to try to disarm him again. I almost had him on Wednesday, and I think I can do it if I try today” His eyes flicked to yours and Jack watched as you tried - and failed - to fight back a smile.

“I’m positive you can, Midori.” You gestured to the open space behind them, stepping back so that you could take a seat on one of the tables that lined the wall. “Don’t let me interrupt.”

Jack watched as the younger woman turned away and headed for the center of the room, stretching. He took that opportunity to step to where you were and then reached out to touch your chin, taking it between two fingers. “This is a nice surprise.” You parted your lips slightly and Jack heard your breath catch at the way he was touching you in front of someone else. Still getting used to this too, Agent.

“Yeah. Sucks that he got sick, but I’m happy to be here and get to see you while it’s still light out.” But you didn’t dwell on that statement, gesturing to his recruit and cocking your head to one side, eyes flashing. “Go. Let me watch you get taken down a peg or two, and then we can get dinner before you go and do your reports.”

He grinned at you, nodding once. Without speaking, Jack followed Midori to the open floor, getting into position. She was a good six inches shorter and fifty pounds lighter than him, but she was smart. Jack knew firsthand that like you, there was more to her than met the eye, and she’d actually come dangerously close to besting him multiple times before. And this is just the first week. He gave her a lopsided smile, urging her closer with one raised brow. She’s going to be great for us by the time she’s in the field.

“Alright, Midori.” His hand moved toward his hip, fingers hovering over the hilt of his training knife. “Show me what you’ve got.”

—

Twenty five minutes later, the three of you were in the medical bay, one of Jack’s large hands clutching his opposite shoulder as the two of you talked excitedly with each other.

“You saw that, right? I actually flipped him over my shoulder, and -”

“You did!” You laughed, sneaking a look at Jack and then returning your gaze to the girl’s face. “You caught him off guard, and that definitely helped, but I think the only person that I’ve ever seen do that to him before was Tequila, and …” You pressed your lips together. “And J… Whiskey doesn’t like to talk about that, so…”

“I’m right here.” He winced, stopping mid shrug. “I can hear every damn word you’re both saying. You two sure like to talk about this shit, don’t you.” Blowing a raspberry at him and waving him off with one hand, you sighed.

“You’re going to be fine, Jack. Ginger’s going to give you a shot and your arm’s going to feel better in about 45 seconds.” You rolled your eyes. “Let the girl have a win. Getting one over on you after less than a week of training is a big deal.” He knew you were right, but Jack still grumbled about it, easing himself down and onto his back and keeping his eyes on the ceiling.

The door opened and Ginger stepped inside, the woman immediately moving to a drawer and beginning to pull things out of it. “I haven’t done my medical rotation yet.” Midori actually sounded nervous, clearing her throat twice. “I don’t know what all of this stuff we have does.”

“You’ll learn soon enough. You didn’t really hurt him, at least not long term. Nothing’s even dislocated, it’s probably just a deep tissue bruise, so I’ll give him a muscle repair shot, and that’s that.” Ginger straightened up, the syringe in one gloved hand. “He’ll be better in a couple minutes. So you’ll see what these things can do before you even know everything that we have at our disposal.”

“It’s my bad shoulder, Ginger.” Jack spoke up, still staring at the ceiling because he didn’t want to look at any of you. “The one I hurt in St. Paul.” Trying to keep Cider from falling.

He heard you gasp and at that, Jack did sit up, his eyes immediately finding yours. Aw, shit. There was pain there, etched deep in your expression as you absorbed his words, and the man wished desperately that he could eliminate it for good. “I didn’t know it was …” You swallowed hard. “I didn’t know it still bothered you.”

“It’s like your leg.” He paused. “Only bothers me sometimes.” You didn’t say anything else, and when Ginger stepped between the two of you, a soft smile on her face and holding the needle up, Jack was somewhat relieved for the distraction. “Gonna fix me up now, Doc?”

“It’d take more than a shot to fix you, Jack.” She spoke quietly, pushing his sleeve up with one hand and then inserting the tip of the needle before she depressed the plunger. “But it’s a start.” Even he had to laugh at that, Jack’s chin dropping toward his chest as he flexed his fingers, palm pressed flat against the top of one thigh. “You may want to take it easy tomorrow, but as long as it feels alright, there’s no reason to skip a full day of training.”

Ginger turned away, setting the needle down and then snapping her gloves off, attention going back to the two of you. “Thank you, Ginger.” You sighed and Jack watched as you repositioned your shoulders, standing up straight. “And even though you got his bad arm, Midori, it’ll take a lot more than getting knocked onto his ass to keep Whiskey down.”

“Well…” She took a deep breath and then looked at Jack, the concern in her eyes still there but joined by a real smile on her lips. “I look forward to trying again soon.” I do too.

A few minutes later, Midori was gone and it was just you, Jack and Ginger in the room, the second woman busy typing notes into her datapad. “How’s it feel, Jack?” She glanced up, waiting. “Better?”

“Yeah.” He stretched the arm out, lifting and then lowering it a few times. “Much. Still got that dull ache, but that’s been there for a while now. Doesn’t bother me much.”

“That, Jack, is because you played hero for hours before even thinking about treating yourself.” She smiled, setting the pad down and crossing her arms. “And it’s a constant reminder that you were successful.”

It was - and the three of you knew it - but none of you spoke again, even though your eyes widened as you looked between the two of them. Aw, c’mon Ginger. Don’t make her feel more guilty. The room stayed quiet until Ginger cleared her throat, your name leaving her lips before Jack’s, the woman gesturing for the two of you to follow her into the hallway. “Where we goin’?”

“I have something for you. It was supposed to be a welcome back present, but now …” She laughed again, pausing in front of her office door. “Now it’s going to serve more than one purpose.” What? She disappeared into the office and left the two of you in the hallway, Jack’s good arm around your shoulders. He wasn’t surprised when you leaned in closer, briefly turning your head and pressing your cheek to his chest. He tightened his hold on you when you let out a shuddering breath, Jack’s mouth opening to tell you not to worry, but Ginger’s return interrupted him. “We’ve been developing some new tech while you two were gone, and it’s ready to be tested out.”

“Tested?” You questioned her, the woman reappearing with two bottles and a sheet of paper in her hands. “What do you mean?”

“We have to stay ahead of our missions. And sometimes…” She held out the bottles, waiting until you took them from her to keep speaking. “Sometimes we have to go a step beyond just tricking them to get what we need.”

“And we’re supposed to use this… whatever it is?” Jack looked down at what you held, not understanding. “Ginger, you -”

“Think of it as my way of letting you know that I hope your return to Kentucky is enjoyable.” She winked, lips twitching. “Something there for both of you right now, so you should take the rest of the night off and enjoy it. Make sure you read the instructions though.”

He still didn’t understand but you agreed, taking a deep breath. “If you say so, Ginger.” You stepped out from under his arm, turning toward the elevators. “Come on, Jack. Looks like we’ve got some homework.”

He wasn’t about to disagree, but before you’d gotten too far, Ginger called out to him. “Jack?” He stopped, glancing back over his shoulder and meeting the woman’s eyes. “That other tech you asked me about?” He froze, mouth and eyes going wide. Yeah? “It’s just about done. We’re testing out the second version, and -” She grinned, reaching up to push some of her hair away from her forehead, followed by adjusting the way her glasses perched on her nose. “ - and it’s going to work exactly like we talked about.”

“That’s amazing, Ginger.” He laughed, the weariness leaving his body, even though the ache in his arm remained. “Let me know when it’s ready to go?” She assured him that she would, and when the woman had disappeared back into her office, Jack urged you forward again, his steps lighter as you walked side by side. “C’mon Agent. Let’s go and see what this stuff does.”

—

You could feel the confusion rolling off of Jack’s body, his eyes flicking back and forth between the bottles on the table and the paper in your hand, mouth set into a thin line. But why is that his reaction? He should be excited about this.

“So it’s just … massage oil?” He blinked, tilting his head. “Two different kinds? How is -”

“It would have come in handy in Mexico.” You grinned, holding up the bottle with the label marked cold. “Remember when Dom twisted his knee? I could have used this to bring the swelling down instead of going to the actual hospital.”

Jack remembered it vividly - watching from thirty feet and two oversized umbrellas away as you’d tended to the man’s swollen kneecap, your hands moving over his tanned skin with practiced ease before he’d had to sit still and let you disappear from his sight, the two of you on your way to the nearest hospital. We weren’t anything yet, and that still… that one still hurt. “But how does this help us now? Ginger said it was a welcome home present, but … they aren’t just oil, they have to be for somethin’ else.” He frowned, taking the bottle out of your hand and twisting it to look.

“Instructions just say that whoever’s applying what’s in here needs to be sure they take the corresponding tablet when they start using it.” Turning the bottle over in your hand, you pointed at a small indentation in the bottom of the bottle. “And that there’s enough to treat a couple people at once, just in case.” You reached for the bottle he held, fingers brushing his as you took it back. “She wouldn’t give us something dangerous and call it a present, Jack.”

“No, she wouldn’t.” He sighed, bringing one hand up to the back of his neck. “Who’s gonna go first, then?” He was intrigued - he had to admit it. And I’m excited to have a whole afternoon off, too. “And which one are we going to use?” You stood, setting down the second bottle and advancing toward Jack, using one finger to beckon him to his feet.

“Since you got injured today, I think you should let me work on your shoulders first… and I’ll use the one that says warm.” You bit your lip, eyes dropping from his face to his chest and then moving back up, the man blinking slowly at you. “Are you going to turn down a massage, Jack?” For a few seconds, you thought that that was exactly what he was going to do, but then his expression changed, an easy smile replacing the tight one he’d worn only seconds earlier. “Take your shirt off.”

He was already dressed for training - athletic shorts and a Statesman t-shirt similar to the one that he’d worn when you’d trained with him, and in no time at all, Jack used one hand to pull the shirt over his head, tossing it to the side. “No way in hell I’m gonna miss out on havin’ your hands on me.” Good.

His eyes darkened, tongue darting out to wet his lips, and in an instant, you knew exactly where the day was going. There was only one possible outcome, and in Jack’s expression, you saw that he’d come to the same conclusion. “Bedroom?” He nodded twice, bending over to scoop up both bottles, and less than a minute later, Jack was sitting cross-legged on your bed, you kneeling behind him.

You’d had him there far too few times for your liking, and still weren’t used to the sight of him sitting atop your sheets, but he was a welcome addition to the landscape of your bedroom. Any room, actually. You smiled to yourself as you used the edge of your thumbnail to pop open the bottom of the bottle, shaking out one of the tablets onto your palm before popping it into your mouth.

It tasted like candy - sweet and faintly lemony, and within seconds, it was dissolving on your tongue as you trailed your fingertips up Jack’s back. “I can smell that.” He turned his head, half a smile visible. “Smells good.”

“How’s it taste?” You leaned in, pressing your lips to his, and when Jack reached for you, his arm curved backwards to settle one hand against the back of your head, you sighed against his mouth, giving him an opening. He took it, and even at the strange angle, his tongue worked past your lips and met yours, the man searching for a taste of the tablet you’d taken.

It was a short kiss - by your standards - and when Jack broke it, he winked at you, lips pushed out into the pout you loved so much. “Tastes real sweet. Like you.” Though you couldn’t hold back a roll of your eyes at the cheesiness of the line, the fact that he meant it made your face warm, Jack’s return wink the last thing you saw before he faced forward again.

Reaching for the bottle of self-warming oil, you uncapped it, squeezing a quarter-sized amount onto your palms and then rubbing them together. “Oh, that…” You hummed, the heat immediately spreading over your skin. “That works fast.” Shifting on your knees so that you could relax and rest your weight against your thighs, you began to rub his shoulders, thumbs digging in on either side of his spine. “Sorry I’m not that woman from the resort in Washington, Jack. This isn’t my day job.”

He laughed quietly, tilting his head forward and stretching the skin taut over the back of his neck. You moved your hands to adjust to that position, and as you followed the line of his spine up to his hairline and then back down before widening the spread of your hands to cover his shoulders, you listened to the sounds he made. Every grunt of pleasure sent a jolt of satisfaction through you, his approval stoking the heat in your belly that you felt every time you got a reminder that Jack was yours - and that you knew exactly what to do to pull those sounds from him.

“Not lookin’ for a professional here.” He paused, sighing in contentment. “Just you.” And that was enough of a verbal reminder, Jack going quiet as you continued to work, paying special attention to his right shoulder. He only flinched once, the reaction to your probing fingers making you inhale sharply. Shit. You closed your eyes, gritting your teeth. Ah, fuck.

“Jack, I wish you would have told me about your shoulder sooner.”

“Not now, Agent.” He cleared his throat, letting out a measured breath, “We can talk about it later.” You felt the warmth from the oil as you touched his skin, a faint, pleasant tingle spreading over your palms and fingers, and only a few seconds later, Jack cleared his throat again, sighing. “That feels so damn good. I could just about fall asleep. You’ve got a great …” He trailed off, lifting his head and taking another breath. “Your touch is …” His voice is different. Is he really that relaxed?

“Do you want to lay down?” Pausing with your hands near the center of his back, you said his name. “I don’t want you to fall over.” He agreed and you moved to kneel next to him, waiting until Jack was in position on his stomach to climb back into place. Settling one knee on each side of his body, you replaced your hands on his shoulders. Jack’s arms were folded beneath one of your pillows, his head turned to the side - and you could see that his eyes were closed. He looks like he’s about to pass out. “I’m going to use more of the oil, alright? Is it too tingly for -”

“Nope.” He sighed, breaths lengthening. “Could feel it a lot on my shoulders an’ neck, but now…” He shifted his hips, Jack’s thighs brushing against yours. “Use more. Feels real good. It’s warm.” Alright … Instead of pouring it onto your hands, you dripped the oil slowly onto Jack’s back. It beaded on his skin, magnifying the freckles beneath it in the light of your bedroom as it rolled downward. “You can go harder…” He sighed, the sound turning into a hum of approval. “I like …”

There’s no reason he should be this tired. He was wide awake a few minutes ago. Returning your hands to his skin, you continued to manipulate the muscles there, your hands sliding to his sides and brushing over his ribs. When he didn’t react the way he usually did - a sharp intake of beath coupled with the jerking of his stomach muscles as he fought off a laugh - you removed your hands and stared down at him, chewing on your lower lip. “Jack?” Leaning in, you frowned. “Are you alright?”

And then it hit you - the oil was the only thing that could have put him into such a state so quickly. Oh, shit. Scrambling for the bottle, you wiped your hand on your knee and then shook one of the tablets out onto the blanket, using the corner of it to lift it and hold it to Jack’s lips.

“Hey.” Leaning down, you murmured into his ear. “Open your mouth, Jack.” He grunted but didn’t move, so you repeated yourself, wetting your lips. Gotta use the name he’s trained to react to. “Open wide for me, Agent Whiskey.” He responded to that almost immediately, parting his lips enough for you to slip the tablet inside. This has to be it. There’s no way I’m that good with my hands. Taking a deep breath, you began to rub at his back again, waiting.

“Lemonade.” His voice was still quiet when you heard it a few minutes later. “Tastes like my Grammy’s lemonade.” Jack’s eyes blinked open, his tongue poking through his lips as he wet them. “Did I fall asleep?”

“You did.” You were focused on the space just above the waistband of his shorts, thumbs pressing into the divots in his lower back, fingers spread wide above them. “That’s what this bottle does, Jack. It puts you to sleep.”

“Smart.” He took a deep breath and held it, shoulders tightening briefly as he shrugged. “Hit me like a ton of goddamn bricks, too. Didn’t take any time.”

“It didn’t.” Sliding your hands back up, you squeezed his shoulders as you leaned forward. “Just feels warm and a little tingly on my hands, but there must be something in it that knocks you out.” You looked around the room, thinking. “Would be perfect for recon in someone’s house or bedroom. They’d just think you were really good at giving a massage. And taking that tablet before means that you wouldn’t have to say no to the target using it on you, either.” He agreed, turning his head further and cracking an eye open. “What?”

“Do I get to find out what the other one does?” He raised an eyebrow, sliding his hand out from under the pillow and running his fingers through his hair, one side of his mouth lifting in your favorite smirk. “Maybe it keeps you wide awake all night.”

“Maybe.” You’re a fiend, Jack. You pulled your hands away from him and wiped them on your pants again, still settled comfortably on top of the man. “Or maybe it’s like a truth serum, or -”

“We’ve already got onea those.” Jack pushed on the mattress with both hands, lifting his upper body. “Let me up.” You did, and when he was seated and staring at you, he sucked his lower lip back and between his teeth, eyes focused on your face. “No, I’m sure what Ginger gave us does somethin’ else entirely.”

He rolled his head back and forth a few times, eyes closed. He’s still waking up. “Well then, to be fair, I won’t take the antidote until we know for sure.” The surprise in Jack’s eyes was evident, and you didn’t even try to stop yourself when you reached for him, cradling his cheek in one hand. “We know how fast it works now, so as soon as we figure out what the second one does, you can make sure I take it.”

“‘Mmhmm.” Jack leaned closer, maintaining eye contact until he couldn’t anymore because there was no space left between you. “Sounds like a good plan to me.” He kissed you softly, the man’s lips still tinged with the faint, bright taste of lemon, and before you knew what was happening, Jack pulled you onto his lap, both arms going around you.

You were familiar with him in a way that you hadn’t ever been with anyone else, craving each of the ways that he touched you - and so you didn’t hold back. You got comfortable as you leaned against the man’s solid body, both hands firmly pressed against his bare back. “Jack…” Inhaling through your nose as you eased away from him, you squeezed your eyes shut, allowing yourself a contented smile. “If you keep kissing me, we’re just going to end up -”

“Oh, we’re gonna end up doin’ that too.” He ran the tip of his nose along the side of yours before kissing your cheek briefly. “Just not ‘til a little later.” You shivered and knew that he felt it, Jack’s cheeks lifting in a genuine smile as he pulled back all the way. “Now, you got me shirtless before you started, so why don’t we do the same for you?”

Instead of you pulling your own shirt off, Jack did the honors after you nodded in agreement, lifting both arms over your head to make it easier for him. “I can take off my bra, too. That way there’s nothing in your way.” But with a single shake of his head, Jack turned you down, his hands sliding over the length of your arms and then falling away. He climbed out of the bed and reached for the second bottle, standing net to the bed as he opened it, twisting the cap off. Ok, it can wait then.

“Lay down.” Jack raised the container to his nose. “This one smells like something else. Coconut, maybe? Like suntan lotion.” Suntan lotion? That’s… odd. He tipped the open bottle over and only stopped when you cried out his name, reaching for his wrist and wrapping your fingers around it. “What?” Wait!

“The tablet, Jack. You have to take it otherwise we’re both going to… well, we don’t know what because we don’t know what this one does.” His brows shot up, the man swearing under his breath as he snapped the cap shut again, turning the bottle over.

“Shit. You distracted me so damn much that I …” He trailed off as he pulled a tablet free and popped it into his mouth, tongue visible for a few seconds. “That’s real goddamn weird.” What is? He sucked on it thoughtfully, cheeks going hollow and his brow knit in contemplation. “Smells like coconuts but it tastes like peppermint, too. Fuckin’ wild. Ginger and the team really did somethin’ with this one.” Peppermint?

“So like … Icy Hot?” Blinking rapidly, you leaned back, holding yourself up and letting your weight rest on both hands. You watched as he reopened the bottle, squeezing some out into his palm. That substance was white and viscous, not quite as dense as lotion, but definitely more solid than the first oil had been. “Oh, that’s strange, Jack. It’s thick.”

“It is.” Jack’s eyes were on his hands, the frown still on his face. “And it’s… cold?” But before he could say anything else, he shook himself back into focus, gesturing with his chin. “Lay down on your stomach. Gonna start with your back.”

You did as he asked, and moments later, you found out exactly what he meant.

It was a shock to your skin as his hands made contact, but it only lasted a few seconds - replaced with a pleasant chill, the sensation spreading out slowly from where his fingers touched you. He started near your waist and with gentle pressure before curving his hands down and over your ribs, fingertips sliding briefly between your body and the bed. “Feels so good, Jack.”

You closed your eyes, focusing on the way he was touching you. “You gettin’ tired? You’re still breathin’ normally.” You thought for a few seconds and then sighed as he spoke your name.

“No, it feels great, and I’m relaxed, but it isn’t putting me to sleep.” Instead, you felt wide awake and oddly calm, the cooling effect of the oil sinking into your skin the same way aloe did when you applied it after a day outside in the sun. ‘I just feel… you, Jack.” And you feel incredible.

He hummed out a reply, finally moving up your back and sliding his fingers beneath the band of your bra. “Gonna unhook this now, alright?” You gave him permission and only seconds later, felt the material snap open, Jack’s fingers digging into the newly exposed skin. “I didn’t tell you about my arm because it’s not bad all the time. It really is like your leg, only bothers me when I’m usin’ it too much.” Oh, so he’s going right for it.

“Still.” You turned your head toward the pillow, groaning into the pillowcase when he pressed on a tender spot. “Right there, Jack. Harder. That…” The touch of his hands and the cool addition of what was on them drew your focus, but you felt the tension pop, Jack pushing against the lower edge of your shoulder blade before he continued his journey over your back and toward your neck and shoulders. “You should have told me. I know I didn’t realize it when it happened, but … it’s been months since I remembered everything.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” he continued after humming in acknowledgement of what you’d just said. “But there was nothin’ you could have done about it.” He was right - you weren’t Ginger, and didn’t work in a laboratory. You weren’t a doctor, and couldn’t prescribe treatment or exercise. But I could have … offered support.

Jack’s hands were on your shoulders, kneading the flesh there, and you couldn’t stop the sigh that escaped your lips as that skin and muscle began to tingle, too - a cool, liquid feeling settling just beneath the surface. “Maybe this one just … relaxes you, Jack. I still feel perfectly fine.”

You did - the entirety of your back pleasantly coated in what felt a cool sheet, your shoulders and the top portion of your arms beginning to feel the same. “It’s gotta do somethin’.” Jack paused long enough to pull his hands away, squirting more out of the bottle before reaching down to run his palms over your forearms and down, the man finally threading his fingers between yours and squeezing. “Even if it’s…” He went quiet and you opened your eyes, waiting. Why’d he stop? “Can you feel this?”

He squeezed your hand again, palm pressed to yours. “Yes.” You blinked, not understanding. “You’ve got your palm flat against mine, and -”

“Straighten your fingers.” Confused, you did as he asked. Why? What’s the point? “Well?”

“I did, Jack.” Wiggling your fingers for good measure, you turned to look at him again, lifting your head from the pillow. “See?”

“Agent, you’re not movin’ a damn thing.” He laughed then, the sound full of understanding. “I think this is a paralytic. You can still feel what’s happenin’ but you can’t move.” Oh.

In an instant, you turned your head in the opposite direction and lifted that arm, wiggling your fingers in front of your face. You could both see and feel that happening, and when you lowered your hand back onto the pillow, you returned your attention to your other side, concentrating. “Well that’s interesting.”

It should have scared you - the fact that parts of your body were unable to move and you had no idea how long it would last, but instead of being afraid, you realized that you were somewhat turned on - and it was because you knew that Jack would take care of you. “Do you want the antidote? Shouldn’t take more than a couple minutes for feelin’ to come back.” He was still touching you - the man’s fingertips running up and down your arm, though the contact was light, barely there.

“Give me a second.” Concentrating, you focused on the different parts of your body, beginning with your toes. They moved, you could feel the softness of the blanket rustling against them. The same was true for your legs – you heard the sound of your pants sliding over the bedspread and felt the pull of your knee muscles as you flexed them. But when you attempted to lift your thighs one by one, you realized that you weren’t moving. “Oh this is …” Strange. Weird. Exciting. “Jack get off of me, I want to roll over.”

He did as you asked, sitting next to you on the bed. “Lemme know if you need me, alright?” You saw that he was fighting back a smile, his chest rapidly moving up and down as he watched you. “I’m here to help.” Oh, I’m sure you are. You pushed yourself up with your good arm and then attempted to use the other one to do the same.

It didn’t move.

Your hand was resting on the bed, palm up, fingers curled inward - exactly where Jack had dropped it as he climbed off of you. “Shit.” Letting out a scoff, your eyes darted up, locking with his. “I can feel the blankets, Jack. I can feel - “

“But you can’t move.” His tone was lower than it had been, eyes dark as they focused on your face. “Well, you can’t move what I touched with that shit.”

“I can’t. And it must spread, because my thighs are … stuck.” Rolling your eyes, you sighed. “Help me onto my back?” He did as you asked, shifting onto his knees and winding an arm around you, his other hand supporting the opposite side of your body. His frame covered you as you repositioned yourself, head on the pillows. “This will be very useful, Jack. I’m wide awake and aware of what’s going on, but all it would take is you putting that onto someone’s hands or feet, and -”

“And they’d be completely incapacitated even though they could still talk.” He grinned, looking down at the bottle. “Ginger wasn’t lyin’ when she said that these were gonna come in handy.” No, she wasn’t. His eyes swept over your partially clothed body - the look in them hungry. “I want to keep touchin’ you. But it would feel… wrong. Because you can’t move your arm, or sit up, and … and that feels like takin’ advantage.”

“Jack.” Swallowing hard, your next words stuck in your throat. “You’re not taking advantage.” You paused. “Pretend I’m reaching for your hand right now, alright?” He laughed, nodding his head. “Keep touching me. Anywhere. I want -” You could see it in his expression - Jack wanted to do what you were telling him to, the man’s fingers curling and uncurling in his lap as he kept himself from lifting either of his arms. “I can feel it. I just can’t… do anything about it.”

“Why does it sound like that turns you on?” He frowned but you could still see the spark of intrigue behind his expression, kept to barely glowing embers in the depths of his eyes. Because if he let it free, that’d be it. “It would feel like I’m using you. Like I’m doin’ something wrong.”

“Not something wrong.” You reached up with the hand you could still move, pressing one finger to your lips. Oh, but I can’t move my shoulder. It’s spreading there, too. “Because I’m telling you it’s alright. And…” Taking the tip of your thumb between your lips, you thought for a few seconds. It’s alright. “Maybe it’d be alright if you used me for a little while. I… wouldn’t complain.”

The silence in the room was thick, both of you digesting the words that had come out of your mouth. Did I overstep? Is that too much? Is it not what he wanted to hear? “How ‘bout we compromise.” Jack leaned in, one hand moving to your belly and settling there as he ducked down. “We do this for a couple more minutes.” He moved his fingertips in a slow circle over your skin, the difference in temperature making you gasp. “And then when I really want to touch you, you take the tablet. By the time it starts workin’, we should both be ready to go.”

“Yes.” You nodded, resting your hand over top of his, fingers curled over the man’s knuckles and halting his movement. “That’s fair.”

That was all the encouragement Jack needed, pulling his hand free from beneath yours and then pouring more of the oil onto his palm. “Give me your hand.” He was grinning again, his eyes locked with yours. “You wanna play? We’ll play, Agent.”

It was still strange to you - the way that hearing him call you Agent sent a rush of heat through your entire body, but even as he took your hand in his and repeated the same thing that he’d done with the other one, you understood exactly why it affected you as much as it did.

He’d used the term as a secret one of endearment for years, foregoing calling you Cider on missions and instead referring to you by the title, which was different than with all of the others you worked with - and all of the other times you’d observed him on missions. It’s like a secret, you sighed as he let go of your hand, leaving it on top of the blankets, his fingers running up the inside of your forearm. Our secret.

“Will you kiss me, Jack?” It came out needy and breathless, your eyes closed as he squeezed your bicep. “I -” You didn’t get anything else out, Jack’s kiss bruising as he covered your mouth with his. You didn’t realize it until you felt his tongue slip between your lips and into your mouth, but he’d also lifted his hands from your torso, settling one of them against your jaw and turning your head toward him, the other one supporting his weight as he leaned forward.

Jack kissed you like he was trying to consume you - and you committed every movement of his lips and each sound he made to memory, almost like you’d never get to experience it again.

You desperately wanted to touch him, too - to run your fingers through the silken strands of his hair, to let your fingertips drift over the line of his jaw, Jack’s 5 o’clock shadow providing a touch of friction. But I can’t. You groaned in frustration, the man immediately backing off, concern on his face. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I just realize how much it sucks to not be able to touch you.” You bit your lip - swollen and tingling from his kiss even without the aid of the oil - and then closed your eyes again. “Be glad that you didn’t offer to use the warm one on me.” You’d hate not being able to move.

“Next time?” He surprised you when he spoke, Jack clearing his throat. “Next time we use these, I want to see what this one feels like.” He climbed out of the bed and stood next to it, the tenting in his shorts much more visible than it had been when he was sitting. He adjusted himself through the material, head cocked to one side. “Wonder if you can make me come even if I can’t move.”

You gasped again, mouth dropping open at his words, and you were rewarded with another smirk, the man bending at the waist and hooking his fingers beneath the elastic waistband of your pants. “I’d lift my hips… but I can’t.” The smirk turned into a genuine grin, Jack’s lips curving upward, and to your surprise, he made quick work of the last items that you wore - the stretchy material of your training leggings and your underwear joining the rest of your clothing on the floor. “Well this is interesting.” Licking your lips, you took a deep breath. “Jack, I -”

“Well aren’t you gorgeous.” He used two fingers to stroke his mustache, the tip of his tongue poking out of one corner of his mouth. “Gimmie a second, alright?” You barely had time to agree before Jack was striding from the room, arms swinging by his sides. “Just gotta read somethin’ real quick.”

What the fuck are you reading? As intrigued as you were, you were just as frustrated, craning your neck to see down the hallway. Why did he leave? Before you could worry for too long, Jack reappeared, holding the instruction sheet in one hand. “Jack?”

“This paper says,” he began, before breaking eye contact and looking back at what he held. “That both oils are designed to be used anywhere on the human body.” He paused, glancing back up at you over the top edge as he read from the sheet. “They are food-grade and safe for consumption.” Oh. You froze at that, immediately understanding Jack’s intentions. “Now.” He set the sheet on your dresser and then sat back down on the bed. “As much as I want to find out how this tastes, it still feels a little wrong to do that when you can’t move your arms or sit up.”

“That’s… fair.” Wetting your lips, you blew out a long, shaky breath. “Guess there’s always next time, right?” He agreed, reaching for the bottle and opening the bottom, taking one of the tablets between his fingers. “I thought I said not y-”

“Just want to be ready.” He wet his lips, setting the tablet down on the pillow next to your head. “You say the word, and I’ll put that thing in your mouth so fast it’ll make your head spin.” I don’t doubt that.

“I want to see what you’re going to do.” Defiant, you narrowed your eyes. “You went to read those instructions, so you must have a plan.”

“Oh, I do.” He winked at you, your breath catching in your throat at the sight, and then Jack turned the opened bottle over, squeezing and letting some of the liquid drip down against your abdomen, the cold making you whine. Fuck this is… that’s… oh my God, he… “I’ve got a plan alright.”

He flattened one hand to the left of your body before using his right hand to pull your legs apart, his eyes never leaving your face. “Jack, you…” You had no idea what you were even trying to say, but Jack’s next motion stopped your words, his fingers gliding up and over the top of your thigh until they reached the liquid on your skin, dragging through it.

You could feel it - the way the chill spread over your skin as he drew patterns with it, Jack’s touch light enough that there was no pressure but still something that you were able to feel. He circled your belly button with one finger, an action that would have caused your abdominal muscles to contract under normal circumstances - but at the widening smile on his face as he did it, you knew that nothing had moved. “Remember, as soon as you’re done with this, tell me.”

“Mmmhmmm.” Breathlessly, you agreed, Jack’s hand traveling lower. One finger turned to two, the edges of his nails scraping along your skin… and then Jack leaned closer, saying your name. “What? What do you -” You barely got the words out through your panting breaths, your focus destroyed with every new inch of you that he touched. “Jack… It feels like you’re dragging ice over my …” Without warning he lifted his hand and reached up, fingers finding and tweaking one nipple gently, a wail escaping from between your lips before you clamped them shut. Fuck.

“I think you like that.” He palmed your breast before ducking his head down and sealing his mouth over your nipple, the scent of his hair filling your nostrils. Tilting your head down - since it was the only part of you that you could move - you took as deep a breath as you could manage, wondering if he could hear the thundering beat of your heart. Maybe he can feel it. You whimpered when his tongue flicked out, laving over your nipple before it was replaced with his teeth, another brief, sharp burst of pain forcing your eyes shut. “I think you like that a lot.”

He murmured the words when he broke away from you, a lazy smile on his face as the straightened up. “I…I do.” He followed a straight line down the center of your chest with his fingers, the chill fainter in their wake than it had been against your abdomen, but when he passed your belly button, he didn’t stop, his eyes finally leaving your face when he reached for the bottle again. “More? What do you need more for, Jack? This is … you…”

“You’ll know in a minute.” Holding his hand up so that you could see what he was doing, Jack drizzled more of the oil over his middle and pointer fingers, the liquid dripping down the length of them, though the flow was slower than it had been down his back. He whispered your name and waited until you met his eyes to speak, the man’s tone leaving no room for hesitation. “Gonna be cold. Tell me if it’s too much.” Nodding in agreement, you held you breath as he tossed the bottle to the side and then lowered his hand, never breaking eye contact.

He sunk two frigid fingers into you with a groan, his jaw twitching as he fought to keep his eyes open. After only seconds, you broke, your mouth falling open as your eyes slammed shut, the length of his fingers gliding through you as he urged them forward. “Fuck, Jack.” You tried to focus on the sound of his voice but couldn’t, the only thing you were truly aware of how good it felt to have him touching you the way he was, the heat that typically consumed you when the two of you were in bed replaced with a concentrated, icy sensation.

The contrast between the soft heat of your body and the chill of his thick fingers was too much - and would have been even if you’d been able to move. But when Jack continued speaking, you knew you were close to putting an end to things and begging for the antidote.

“I can feel you movin’.” He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours without stopping the motion of his hand, the flex of his wrist sending small shivers down the inside of your thighs, even though he hadn’t touched you there otherwise. “You’re shaking. You’re so warm, Agent. So goddamn …” He groaned, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before exhaling against them, his breath little more than a short puff of air. “How’s it feel for you?” Cold. It feels cold and warm at the same time but it’s good, it’s so fucking…

Even if you weren’t so overwhelmed, you wouldn’t have been able to describe it. The way he was touching you almost made your body sing, Jack’s touch confident, even as he withdrew his fingers completely and laid the heel of his hand against you briefly, giving you a respite. “Jack, I need…” Your eyes were open and you stared straight up at the ceiling, mouth hanging open when he reentered you, the stretch subtle. He’s got three… he added… “Give me the antidote, Jack. Need to touch you.”

Straightening up, the man reached for the tablet and lifted it to your lips, raising one brow even as he continued to thrust his fingers into you, movement slow and controlled. “Stick your tongue out.”

You did - opening your mouth and extending it, Jack’s eyes flashing with a desire that he didn’t even try to hide, his pupils so large that the dark brown was almost completely obscured.

It began to dissolve almost as soon as he pressed it against the muscle, and when you retracted your tongue and closed your mouth, you closed your eyes, savoring the taste. It was overwhelmingly minty, but by the time you swallowed, it had mellowed out, the taste of coconut coating your tongue and soothing the chill slightly. It’s good. “You let me know when you’re good to go.” Jack whispered the words, scooting closer and rubbing his thumb over your cheek. “Let me know as soon as -”

“Yeah.” Swallowing again, you reassured him. “Yeah, I …” He curled the fingers inside of you, pausing their movement otherwise, and when he kissed you again, Jack didn’t hold back, plunging his tongue back between your lips. I will.

The chill was still there, the man’s fingers still cold, the areas of your body that he’d touched earlier just as impacted as they had been, but as the kiss deepened, Jack’s teeth tugging on your lip before he ran his tongue along it, you felt the blanket beneath your fingertips, a wrinkle smoothing out as you straightened the digits.

Testing yourself, you slid your hand forward, finding Jack’s knee and then raising it, curling your fingers over the top of his leg briefly before you slid them beneath the bottom hem of his shorts. “Welcome back.” He mumbled the words against your lips, groaning as your hand moved higher, palm reaching his thigh. “What’re you -”

“I can move again.” He was firm against your fingertips and then you felt the heat when you wrapped him in your whole hand. “See”?” There wasn’t much room for you to move your hand but you still managed, short strokes that left the thin material of his shorts stretched tightly over your knuckles.

“Lemme take those off.” He broke away from you entirely, the man’s chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. “Let me get ready to …” He trailed off as you pushed yourself into a sitting position, the man’s fingers stilled inside of you, yours paused with him heavy against them.

“You should hurry up.” He was confused but didn’t speak, waiting to see what else you’d say… and you didn’t make him wait long. “You said you wanted to see how it tastes…right?”

He laughed then, the sound quiet but somehow dangerous, too, the man curling his fingers once more before removing them slowly. Jack stood, ridding himself of his shorts in one smooth movement and springing to attention in front of you. There was no hiding the way you wet your lips at the sight, both hands fidgeting in your lap while you waited.

He looked down at you for a few seconds and then reached for down with his left hand, the man’s long fingers wrapping around himself and beginning to stroke his length leisurely, though the set of his shoulders gave him away entirely. I just got some of that tension out, and now he’s… Come on, Jack.

He said your name then, the sound little more than a growl before he beckoned you forward with his other hand, urging you to rise onto your knees in front of him.

“I do want to know what it tastes like, Agent.” He paused, eyes moving away from your face and down, over the rest of your body. “And I think it’s time I find out.”

—

Tag list coming separately!

#agent whiskey #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x female reader #pedro pascal #pedrostories #kinktober #kinktober 2022 masterlist #jack daniels masterlist #buried #jack daniels: buried #buried masterlist #whiskey and cider #kingsman the golden circle fic #pedro pascal masterlist #kingsman TGC #agent jack 'whiskey' daniels

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