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deantfwinchester · 2 days ago

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Love Me Right

Part 1: Henrietta’s

Pairing: ConstructionCEO!Joel x Waitress!Reader

She's eventually gonna be a teacher again bc let's be real, i'm a one-trick pony.

This is a Millionaire Joel AU x Most Eligible Bachelor Trope

Summary: Joel Miller, CEO and Co-Founder of Miller Construction, hasn't been dealing with an Empty Nest very well. His family and friends have tried their best to cheer him up since Sarah left for college in the fall, but the storm cloud above his head remains. On top of that (or perhaps because of it), he has just been named one of Austin's Most Eligible Bachelors.

What will that mean for the new-in-town waitress he meets in his favorite diner? As far as she knows, he's just an average contractor.

Warnings: age gap (reader late 20s, Joel late 40s); family-centered trauma and conflict; lethal levels of fluff otw

A/N: Bear with me for this one y'all. My imagination is ambitious and my brain is obstinate. Title inspired by Sabrina Carpenter’s Short ‘n Sweet - bc i can’t stop fckn listening to Juno 🫣

Word Count: 4.6k

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“Tommy, there ain’t a chance in hell that’s gonna happen. Why on earth did you bring this to me?”

“Well they talked to Joanna at the front desk first. She said wasn’t going to bring it up to you, but I couldn’t just let it slide,” Tommy raises his eyebrows at Joel, shooting him a mischievous look. “Because one - I wasn’t gonna pass up the chance to see this look on your face, and two - would a little publicity be so bad?”

“Who in their right mind is gonna choose a fuckin contractor from the goddamn ‘society pages’?” Joel bristles at his brother’s amusement with an unwavering scowl.

Tommy stares right back, but the playful nature of his expression is unmarred. “Most men won’t Joel - but their wives will.” Tommy’s salacious grin is damn near wider than Joel’s ever seen. Christ, he’s loving this.

“You gotta be kiddin’ me,” Joel says plainly, rolling his eyes.

“Come on brother, think about it - plenty of busy men in this city with bored housewives in need of a project. He tosses her a few thousand to redo the dining room - well who’s gonna do the job? She hasn’t got a clue where to begin and then BOOM! She sees the list of Austin’s Most Eligible Bachelors in the paper - where she finds a photo of the distinguished CEO and senior founder of Miller Construction—”

“Senior, seriously?,” Joel deadpans at him. Tommy ignores him, continuing to wax poetic.

“And can’t help but wonder if the rest of his staff is as dashing as he appears to be,”

“Flattery’s cheap Tommy.”

“Of course then she meets with me and the deal is sealed.” Tommy smiles smugly now that his story is complete.

“Boy can you paint a picture,” responds Joel, rolling his eyes at his brother’s antics. “So you wanna parade me around like a two-bit hooker, huh?

“Whaddya say — can I give ‘em a call?”

“If you’re so hell-bent on ‘marketing’ why don’t you do it?” Joel says flippantly.

“Well I’m not a bachelor anymore, am I?,” he grins brightly at him. This time, it’s sincere.

“Don’t break your arm pattin' yourself on the back, Tommy. Maria mighta said yes, but there ain’t a ring on your finger yet. She’s still got a few months to wise up,” Joel challenges, his tone playful.

Tommy glares at him, but then gives a sobered nod. “You’re right about that. I know I’m a lucky fucker, and I’m not interested in testing that luck - even for a charity auction. Sorry to the dogs, or the food bank or — is it old people?”

“Hell bent on it, and don’t even know what it’s for? Christ - it’s a Make-A-Wish thing Tommy, damn,” Joel replies, looking bewildered at his brother’s callous and cavalier response.

“And isn’t your attention and concern for the bigger picture just what they need in volunteers?” Tommy retorts, expression still smug but eyes hopeful. “What, ‘s it gonna kill you to go out for once? It’ll be a formality at worst and maybe even a good time if you loosen up a bit.”

“I can think of a number of other ‘worsts’ than a formality,” Joel muses

“You’re gentleman enough to handle it just fine,” Tommy continues.

It has been quite a while since Joel’s been out of his house for much other than work or routine, and even longer since he’s been out with anyone other than Tommy, Maria, and the guys from work here and there. He’ll admit, he hasn’t been dealing with an empty nest very well. He’s done a pretty terrible job of keeping busy since he dropped Sarah off at school back in the fall. She’d gotten in exactly where she’d hoped, and made friends fast - for this he was over the moon - but he misses her like crazy. He’s been swimming back and forth in swelling pride and stabbing grief since September, ecstatic and aching all at once. He knew Tommy’s intentions were relatively pure, business interest aside. He knows they’ve been worried about him for a couple of months now - they haven’t exactly been subtle — they’d started having him over for dinner damn near once a week.

This newfound hobby of Tommy’s, cooking like a grown-up, had become the ruse en vogue for getting Joel out of his house. As Maria’s caseload grew at the law firm, Tommy wanted to make sure she had a real meal to eat when she finally got home — so he started cooking. Joel had to admit it was real sweet, watching his brother dive headfirst into learning a new skill just to take care of his bride-to-be. He claimed it only made sense with his far more flexible schedule, but Joel knew it made Tommy proud to be able to do this for her, and the very fact he wanted to made Joel proud as well.

Once Sarah left for school, however, Tommy quickly discovered his brother’s less-than-satisfactory habits of microwave dinners or forgetting to eat in general. He was a fair chef in his own right once upon a time, but without his little girl there to feed, bothering to make a balanced meal fell by the wayside. Joanna, a kindly woman in her seventies, had been one of the first to notice the change in Joel’s demeanor and the drawn nature of his features. Not much younger than the boys’ mother would be today, Joanna worked at the front desk of Miller Construction, greeting clients with a maternal warmth that, Tommy had to admit, was in part strategic. Disarm a client while they wait with a smile and you’d be able to pry open their hearts and their pockets.

Joanna was not unaware of the role she played in this game, though she did not approve. She’d informed Tommy of her concern for Joel, and the regular dinner invitations followed suit. This, accompanied with Joanna’s tugging Joel along to a nearby diner for lunch a couple of times a week in November had practically pulled Joel through the fall slump and into the new year. The holiday visits home from Sarah had helped a great deal, as well.

Joel wasn’t blind to his friends and family’s kahoots to help him through this patch. Though he sometimes grudgingly obliged to Joanna’s pestering him out the door because she hadn’t “seen you eat a bite all day. Four cups of black coffee don’t count, and you know it. Up!,” or Tommy’s employing Maria to send a text herself inviting him to dinner after he’d tried and simply received the finger, he was grateful for their efforts and care. Sarah was too, but he didn’t need to know that. Those lunchtime diner visits soon turned into breakfasts — a preemptive measure on Joanna’s part to add some time out in public to Joel’s routine of home — office — work site — home. Eventually she’d pavolv-ed him into it, and Joel was at the diner for coffee, breakfast, and one of the only physical newspapers left in existence every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, at first following behind Joanna and eventually on his own.

Joanna had been with the Miller brothers since the business was far smaller, just a few years after its inception, when they started needing a receptionist/secretary/assistant, just someone who knew how to manage their slowly growing demand. She’d been a friend of their mother’s and had taken up some of the slack when she’d passed, grieving alongside her friend’s sons and looking after them in her wake. She’d been one of the only reasons Joel and Tommy had been able to build the tiny Miller Bros. into its current position as Miller Construction, multi-million-dollar contracting firm, and the largest in the Austin Metro area. Joel’s practical thinking and creativity combined with Tommy’s ambition and idealistic hopes of grandeur got them into successful meetings with investors that Joanna quietly set up via her husband’s business contacts. Their vision reminded her so much of their mother’s optimism she couldn’t help herself. She’d keep an eye on Sarah when Joel needed and ensured they were taken care of in the moments they would have needed their mother around.

As the boys’ surrogate mother figure and Sarah’s Aunt Jo, it came as no surprise that amid Joel’s season of empty-nested loneliness Joanna had begun encouraging him to “get back out there” and claimed that she “won’t be around forever” and “would like to see him settled before I go.” Classic maternal guilt-tripping, and Joel told her each time that he hears 70 is the new 50. She told him to try that again in a few years when he hits the real 50.

Truth of the matter was, Joel had been alone for a long time. He’d seen people on and off while Sarah was growing up, but it was a rare occasion, and no fling had ever lasted more than a couple of months. With Sarah at home, it never mattered much to Joel — he had someone to care for who was the best company he’d ever had right in front of him. She’d needed him a little less as she’d grown up, but he always had a purpose.

Joel was a natural-born caretaker — between brotherhood and fatherhood, he took to it like a tadpole to water. With Sarah away at school and his little brother engaged, however, he couldn’t figure out where to put all that love, and so it crackled into grief like a blackening candle wick, blooming into a flower of ash that nestled in his chest. The cloud of soot hovered around him for a while as he went through the motions of his everyday. Tommy, Maria, and Joanna all wanted to see him find his way again, as did Sarah when she received honest reports from her family members after some prodding. He always put on his biggest smile for her, never wanting her to worry, but she could see something hurting in his eyes, just below the surface.

While it may have been blatantly out of his comfort zone, Tommy and Joanna jumped at the opportunity to convince Joel when the Most Eligible Bachelors’ Auction came knocking. He needed something to disrupt his routine, with the added bonus of his coming out into the social scene like a plaid-clad debutante with a few extra crow’s feet.

After rolling the last few months’ events around in his mind for a couple of minutes while Tommy answers a phone call, Joel is broken from his reverie. Tommy’s standing in front of him again, waving a hand back and forth.

“Hey ground control - you with me?,” he asks before Joel’s eyes focus on him once again. “Can I give em a call?,” and this time Joel notices the concern in Tommy’s eyes as his joking facade flickers with hope. It’s more than just publicity, and he owes it to them to give it a shot.

Joel releases a measured sigh, relenting. “Can’t believe I’m saying this but sure, fuck it. Call ‘em back,” he says rolling his eyes, resigning himself to whatever nonsense his participation will entail. He reminds himself it’s for charity, and returns to his computer, refocusing on his work as Tommy darts out of his office to return to his own, reporting his success to Joanna along the way.

_______________________________________________

You got lucky with this job at Henrietta’s, with its flexible hours and fairly livable wage, you had time to settle into your new place and get to know the city. You spend your off days wandering around, doing research on local schools and prepping your applications for summer school and the new year.

Never had you pictured yourself leaving students mid-year, and having to do it hurt like hell. You missed the kids you left behind every day, but when a friend caught wind of an acquaintance needing a subletter for a little studio within your price range, you didn’t have much of a choice. You needed to take up the lease starting in January, or you’d be starting over at square one. It had been a long time coming, this encroaching need to run and start over somewhere new. Staying in your hometown was no longer an option — work may have been a saving grace, but the other areas of your life were suffering. You knew healing couldn’t begin without separation. You needed to be far away from everything — it was the only way you could picture trying to feel whole again. Grad school had ended the previous year, so you fled.

With each mile you put between you and your family, you started to feel like your lungs could fully inflate once again. The oppressive air of scrutiny and memory that swam around you at home dropped off piece by piece with each passing mile marker. You’d put a few states between yourself and your parents once it was all said and done, and while it was scary, starting from scratch all over again, it was invigorating. You’d done it at eighteen when you left for college, you could damn well do it again with eight years’ more life experience under your belt.

You’d walked into the diner on your second day in the city. You had some money saved up from time living at home, but knew it would dwindle quickly with rent to pay and no salary coming in on the regular. You would need something to keep busy and pay for necessities until the end of the spring semester. When Diane, the manager caught sight of you, bright-eyed and looking like a deer in headlights, she welcomed you with a warmth you’d only read about in books. She interviewed you then and there and offered you a job on the spot, waiting tables on the breakfast and lunch shifts at least four days a week. She told you your “sweet smile and wide-eyed look will do wonders for you in tips, precious!” You think it’s probably just teacher face you can’t shake, and hope she’s right — maybe it could do you some favors until you get back in the classroom where you belong.

Diane’s rounded face was accentuated with wonderfully deep crow’s feet and smile lines that suggested a lifetime of sharing this warmth, and her dark hair streaked with gray around her hairline and temples rested atop her head in a frazzled bun. She made you comfortable out the gate, and had set you up with a uniform immediately. More aptly, she handed you a t-shirt and an apron to go over your leggings. You were thankful for the relaxed dress code, knowing plenty of other establishments required a much more specific ensemble. Once you’d changed she introduced you to your shift lead, Reggie, and the line-cook-on-duty, Tony, patting you comfortingly on the shoulder and insisting they welcome you, hoping to keep you around to solve their persistent staffing issue.

While Diane was quite a bit older than you, somewhere in her mid-fifties, Reggie and Tony were younger, floating between mid-thirties and early forties, if you had to guess. Reggie was a slim black man you’d put in his thirties, and he greeted you with a smile and an exclamation that he was more than ready to gossip ad nauseum with someone so much closer to his age. He’d been the one to fill you in on Diane’s immediate taking to you, letting you know with little ambiguity that you were just a few years younger than Diane’s daughter, who had moved out of the city about a year ago, and that you favored her to boot. Reggie had called this particular gossip session your orientation.

“Don’t get me wrong honey, Diane’s a sweetheart. But never have I seen her offer a position on the spot. I think having you here may do her some good,” he’d said, before turning to fill you in on Tony the line cook. “Yeah Tony’s hot, but he chain smokes like a chimney and doesn’t care at all when I ask him to keep his second hand smoke to himself on the days I have a performance!,” he shouted pointedly at Tony, who only looked up long enough to give Reggie the finger and wink at you. Tony was a muscular Italian guy in his forties with tattoos of a sort that didn’t quite match up with the gold chain and cross pendant hanging around his neck. When your eyes went wide at the wink, Reggie giggled a bit and leaned toward you. “Don’t worry, Tony’s a little sleazy but harmless. He’ll hit on anything in a skirt, but as soon as you tell him you aren’t interested he’ll back off and won’t bring it up again. He’s a good guy, but don’t tell him I said that.”

Over the course of your shift you discovered that Diane’s been at Henrietta’s for fifteen years, Reggie is a drag queen and lounge singer by the name of Wizz Tiria at a few different clubs around town, and Tony has a few other business ventures he mentions on and off (the details of which he keeps to himself), but never misses taking his Mom to church on Sundays. You share a good bit about yourself as well in exchange — what brought you to Austin, why now, and where you may go from here. It doesn’t take long for you to make yourself at home among this eclectic little bunch, and for the first time in a really, really long time, you’re content with the peaceful monotony of these early winter days.

_______________________________________________

It’s a brisk February morning when you walk into the diner for your shift. You’ve spent the last month working in the cozy little greasy spoon, so you’re still getting to know the regulars, but you’ve caught on pretty quick. You’ve been working the Tuesday, Thursday, and weekend shifts, but when Diane loses another server, you’re eager to pick up the slack — extra pocket change and keep your mind busy. The company’s pretty good too. Thus, you find yourself walking into the diner at 7 AM on a Wednesday morning with a hoodie over your t-shirt and a scarf to ward off more of the wind cutting into your cheeks. You head to the staff room to remove your hoodie and don your apron and emerge, finding the diner a bit colder than it had been up to this point. You’d kept a light jacket or a cardigan on you previously, but today’s need for something heavier led you to selecting a favorite hoodie to throw over your work t-shirt — which you didn’t quite think through until you came into the dining room and felt a chil run up your spine. Diane catches sight of you before you can still yourself.

“Sweetie, what on earth fo you think you’re doing?,” she asks like you’ve done something obviously egregious.

“Huh? What is it?,” you ask innocently, but you know the answer. She can probably see the goosebumps you feel rising on your arms.

“You need somethin’ on under that, you’re gonna freeze in here today!,” she chastises.

“Yeah, I brought my hoodie, but forgot I’d be taking it off. It’s not so bad in here, I’ll be alright,’ you tell her reassuringly.

“Absolutely not. Wait, hold on a second - REGGIE! We got any more o’ those long sleeve souvenir shirts in the case?!” she hollers after him.

“Hold awn!,” he hollers back, Southern twang taking center stage when he yells, just like the rest of them. After a few seconds he emerges with a few in hand. “Got a few left. Ugly as hell, probably why they’re still here. Watcha need ‘em for?”

“Sweetie, go on and change into that before the rush starts. Not the staff shirt, but the branding’ll be fine in case Jason drops by,” she says, rolling her eyes. She pats you on the shoulder, nudging you toward Reggie to take one of the shirts. They’re bright green with a gaudy design on them that makes you laugh when he hands it to you. Jason’s the owner of Henrietta’s, and so you’ve heard, the bane of Diane’s existence. You’ve only heard tale of this rotten Jason thus far, never quite laying eyes on the mythical beast. You really hope today in this goofy shirt isn’t the day you do.

You return to the dining room a few minutes later clad in the neon green monstrosity, tugging at it in a futile effort to make it look better. “Happy now, Diane?!,” you holler as you enter, only to find her standing directly in front of you at the hostess stand, face to face with a man you’d never seen in here before — who you almost run right into, not looking where you’re going. He’s tall and broad with dark brown curls laced with grey streaks, and gray patches in the short beard that frames his jaw. He catches you when you nearly bump right into him, and you look up to meet the deepest brown eyes you’ve ever encountered. Your cheeks go red when you realize what you’ve done.

“Whoa there,” he says, smiling down at you as you stutter out an apology. “It’s alright, no harm done,” he responds, voice gentle but deep. It’s true, he didn’t even budge when he caught you, and you’re fairly certain if you’d fallen, the outcome would’ve been the same.

“Sorry about that Joel. C’mon, your table’s ready,” she says, patting Joel’s arm and leading him forward, not before turning back to you and saying, “Certainly am. Now go grab some coffee for Table 7 for me, will ya sweetie?” with a smile. You’d just run almost smack into a customer, and she wasn’t upset with you or anything. You shouldn’t be surprised, that’s just Diane, but you’re used to much larger reactions to small mistakes. You just nodded and breathed a sigh of relief, but your eyes are drawn once again to the man she’s leading away. He’s looking back at you with a smile that sends a shiver down your spine, one you’re certain has nothing to do with the chill in the air this time. He’s wearing a plaid button-down and a utility jacket, with cheeks and a nose tinged pink from the cold. You tear your eyes away anxiously and head for the coffee pot.

You’ve got your hand around the decaf pot, pouring another cup for the regular at the bar counter, when your eyes find Table 7, your next destination. You see the man, Joel, Diane had called him, with his back to you, facing out the window, newspaper in hand. You steel yourself once again, switch coffee pots, and head for his table.

You approach from the side, hoping not to spook him as he’s engrossed in the paper he has in hand. Christ, when was the last time you saw a physical newspaper? It’s kinda cute, you think, seeing someone reading one on a cold morning with a cup of coffee. So picturesque. Especially someone as handsome as he is, and you find yourself staring at his broad shoulders and dark curls again before he looks up from his reading.

“Hey,” you start, a little shaky, “sorry again, about before. Don’t know what I was doing, not looking where I was going,” you smile a little, shaking your head at your mishap.

“Really, it’s fine. You seemed, uh, preoccupied,” he says, looking down at the offending design on the tshirt you’re wearing, before looking back up at you. “It’s certainly a change from the regular uniform, huh?” he says, smiling at you. The way his eyes crinkle as he does plants a warmth in your chest you aren’t expecting. It’s been so long since you felt it, it’s almost unfamiliar. Your cheeks warm as you smile back at him, hoping it comes off as embarrassment from your wardrobe rather than bashful attraction. You’re about to tell him it’s certainly not a permanent solution, when he speaks again. “So, Sweetie, huh? Haven’t seen you around before — that what they call you in here?” he questions, smirk playing at his lips.

You laugh in response and introduce yourself, and tell him this isn’t your normal shift, but you’ll probably be around for it moving forward. You take his breakfast order, and tell him you’ll let him get back to his paper.

You don’t converse much more when you bring Joel his breakfast, just quiet thanks when you refill his coffee cup. He looks so peaceful, you almost hate to interrupt each time. You ask Reggie about him when you both have a minute behind the counter.

“Yep, that’s Joel. Gorgeous, isn’t he? Started coming in a few months back with an older lady, then more regularly by himself. She’s with him once in a while, kinda seems like a mom vibe, but she doesn’t look like him. Anyway, I think he works construction or something, always coming in with those boots on looking like a lumberjack,” Reggie says flippantly. “Heard from the older lady one day when he was in the bathroom — his daughter went to college back in the fall, they’ve been trying to get him out ever since,” he said, looking sympathetic at the thought.

You feel your heart do a little squeeze at this newfound tidbit. A fresh empty nester. You know how hard it’s been for Diane, so much she’s taken to parenting the staff in her daughter’s stead. Staring at Joel’s back as his head is bowed reading the paper, you begin wondering more and more about him. His daughter’s probably around eighteen, so how old is he? You’d guess he isn’t married, and you didn’t see a ring. Who is he? Why does he come here to read his paper each day? And most importantly — how soon can you find out the answers to these questions? You don’t want to ambush him at all and scare him off, but you’re drawn to him, and so very curious.

Meanwhile, Joel is stealing glances at your reflection in the diner window in front of him, watching you laugh with Reggie and the customers at the bar, smiling sweetly when someone makes a request of you. He needs to get out of there before he starts feeling creepy, he thinks. He rises and walks to the counter to settle his bill with Reggie at the cash register, glancing at you when he does so, futilely trying to balance showing interest and being weird. He leaves a nice tip in the jar for all of you to share, but just before he turns to go, he looks back at you, locking eyes.

“Oh uh, Sweetie?,” he says, smirk on his face. He looks almost bashful when he speaks next, like he’s working up the courage. “Glad you’re picking up. Look forward to seein’ you again,” he smiles. The look on his face when he says it is so sincere, you could melt on the spot. He was nervous about his joke, you could tell, but recovered when you laughed in reply.

“Looking forward to it too, Joel. Enjoy your day,” you say, smiling wide in return. He gives a little wave to everyone before grinnig down at his shoes and walking out of the diner into the crisp February air. Your eyes follow him out to the pick-up he hops into, before looking back over to Reggie and Tony, staring at you devilishly.

“And I’m looking forward to seeing this story unravel,” says Reggie, looking over at Tony and grinning, like something juicy has just unfolded before their eyes. The two are laughing while you smile and wave them off, wiping down the counter. Diane emerges from the office at the sound of their hearty laughter, reading glasses slipping down her nose, notepad in hand, and stares back at the three of you.

“What’d I miss?!,” she asks. You’re smiling too much to respond with anything genuine, so you return to your wiping, and let Reggie take the lead.

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vigilskeep · 3 days ago

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Do we know enough about how Crow succession and talonship works to believe it would be possible for Viago to take the seat of first talon either through some sort of non-violent coup in the absence of an heir to house Dellamorte or through marrying his kid (rook) off to Lucanis? Asking because I really don't know and would love to write something in that direction...and you seem a crow enthusiast...also love your blog

THEORETICALLY. yes.

we haven’t seen the talons shift directly, but they do shift, with regularity. house arainai was first talon in living memory and then fell slowly downwards to their current point where they’re struggling in and out of eight talon like a drowning man who keeps finding his way to air for just enough breath

the eight talons system, if you’ll allow me the tangent, is a really fascinating choice of fantasy hierarchy because it is such a clear hierarchy. among a bunch of ambitious killers whose prime goal is notoriety. you can only hold each position here if everyone below you is too afraid to do anything about it. what an anxiety trip it must be to decide whether to push someone down just one rung or to try to destroy them entirely; do you want to leave your rival with more opportunity or more motivation? but crow power is also all about theatre, all about perception—you are first or fifth or seventh talon primarily because everyone agrees that you are—so making a failed gambit for a higher talon has got to be incredibly damaging. which is a risky setup. it discourages attempts, but when someone does make an attempt, they will not be fucking around

anyway ignore all that we’re talking about soft takeovers today. okay so house dellamorte has a dying core family, theoretically. we’re making the assumption that no surviving young children from any branch of the family are mentioned because none exist. we have two heirs, neither very acceptable (my apologies to caterina’s delusions), both men in their 30s with (again, assumed) no children, and neither making much progress in that regard. (arguably dependent on player choice when it comes to lucanis, but since he can fall in love with and express his undying devotion to any kind of rook, we can at least say he’s not making that much effort.) within a generation the core family may die out. but that is a LONG TIME to wait. you still have to deal with the current ones, they’re pretty robust

lucanis is the current first talon as of the end of veilguard. can he be convinced to give this up and hand first talon over to someone better suited? i do believe it. mostly because i need to believe, for my mental health, that we can get him out of there. but he also now has a fairly bulky support system full of people who love him and will notice how bad this is going to be and convince him he deserves things like a life he doesn’t hate

as always your main problem is caterina. caterina is not going to allow a takeover, soft or otherwise, while she is still alive. caterina didn’t give up first talon when they murdered her children. there’s probably an emotional plot in here where she can be made to accept what she’s done to her family, far too late, but with time left to save just one by letting him go. on the other hand, i’ve also been experimenting with plots in my mind where she tries to quietly get rid of viago or romanced rook for having too much influence, with the added benefit on hopefully being able to steel & refocus lucanis on defending the house against whoever she frames. or plots where she blames lucanis trying to leave and not being the boy she remembers on his, you know, demonic possession, and attempts to forcibly remove or destroy spite. so. there’s potential ups and downs, here.

i don’t know how helpful rook de riva/lucanis is. most of your problem here is that everything that sets this ending up by giving the de rivas more power, and by giving any rook more power over lucanis, is something that in my mind would crank caterina’s wariness all the way up. house de riva surely has to move up from fifth already after the events of the game and look more like a contender, and i don’t think even caterina’s delusions about lucanis’ suitability for first talon could make her blind to the effect rook can obviously have. i definitely think she would delay on a marriage and have the power to do that

i think it’s worth saying that rook de riva at any point bringing up to lucanis the idea of handing things over to viago would be a hell of a conversation. i know lucanis never remotely suspects rook of any agenda and trusts them completely, and i know i agree with rook here, but you’ve GOT to see how “i love you and having power is bad for you and what you should do is hand it all over to my talon” sounds. i truly could not blame him for a bit of doubt here especially if caterina was around to suggest it

sorry this is a completely messy and disconnected response. i don’t even know if i had a point. you might have to wait for caterina to actually die? is that my point? i can see rook de riva/lucanis being helpful to ease a transition of power to house de riva then. i also think it’s worth pointing out that teia might be the better contender for all this out of the two lovebirds. what quietly makes teia probably the most dangerous talon in the crows, if she ever chose to be, is that everyone likes her. i’m not joking or trying to handwave crow politics, it’s a form of soft power and the result of her cultivated skill that nobody ever suspects teia of anything. even caterina treats her gently, and literally a talon who tried to murder all the others in tevinter nights was delaying murdering her because she was his favourite. if anyone can handle a gentler transition like what we’re talking about, maybe it’s more likely to be teia

#veilguard spoilers #i really dont like this ask response its a mess. sorry.#i just kept writing and it kept getting messier but i was too far in to restart. bon appetit #i didnt even get into how illario is still fucking alive #long post

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literaryuppsala · 2 years ago

Note

Hello ❤ got a request. Can you please write about reader that used to be married to rollo and one day he just fucks off without telling the reader. Years later he got informed that the reader had gotten pregnant and that it was his child. Rollo wants to go back to be with his "family" but to do that he has to go through a trail of sorts. He agrees to it without knowing what it is. The trail being, him chained to the bed and having to watch as the reader gets fucked by everybody of the ragnarson family. He is close enough where he can hear and see everything but he is not allowed to touch the reader. And at the end he found out that the reader has gotten remarried to ubbe/bjorn/maybe even ragnar??? And that his child doesn't even know him and he gets kicked out 🤤😌

You can choose to do either just the men of the family including ragnar cause I want to see rollo suffer or you can choose to have the mothers/ wives with them.if you want to, have the reader blind folded so she has to guess who it is ❤

Basically make rollos life hell 😂

What a ride... I guess I never wrote something like that, I am THRIVING, it's filthy, it's messy, has a lot of fluids, and dude it took me forever to finish, like always... Anyways, I hope you like it AND YOU WATCHED THE PROCESS SO BE NICE TO ME! Thank you for your ask babe, have fun you pervert.

Warnings: ALL OF THE WARNINGS POSSIBLE, it's complete filth, pure smut, but with a little plot, not a lot, just a little to give context.

Minors, stay the hell away from this one, I'm not joking.

Sweet like justice, karma is a queen.

You were very young when you first met Ragnar and his brother Rollo. Your eyes crossed paths with them on one of their first meetings with your father, Horik. They were handsome, strong warriors, such a sight when you first saw them, caught your attention very quickly. The meetings ended up with an alliance, Horik and Ragnar decided to raid together in England, returning to Norway filled with treasures and a promise of land.

A feast was prepared to celebrate, the treasures were shared between everyone but Rollo wanted something else, he wanted more. You didn’t mind at first when his eyes caught yours in the middle of the night, didn’t mind when he approached you and offered a cup of ale, you talked until everyone else was already passed out around you and you ended up in his bed that night.

You really thought he loved you, he proposed to your father who gladly accepted and you married him just a few months later that night. He moved you to Kattegat, bought you a house and introduced you to his family until It became yours. But things changed, he changed. One day you heard about a woman he had in his life, someone he loved but died years before, and you thought that was the reason, that he couldn’t love you completely because part of his heart died with her and you learned to live like that.

But Rollo was a different man, to be married to him wasn’t easy, he was demanding, ambitious, always thought he should be doing greater things, that he should be bigger. After years of marriage he became very distant and despite having his way with you every night, you were never able to conceive, you thought to yourself that something was wrong with you, that the gods made you that way and that was another reason for your husband to treat you like that.

“I went to see the healer.” You told him one night. “She gave me a few herbs that can help.”

“The gods cursed me.” He mumbled. “An empty woman who can not give me any child.”

Ragnar was the one to always cheer you up, saying that you weren’t the problem, but his brother. He wouldn’t make a good father, he’d say, the gods won’t give him a child to raise. You never told Rollo about these conversations, he hated his brother and the fact that after Horik’s death, he became the king, something he thought belonged to himself.

“Your brother was looking for you.” You warned him as you put his plate in front of him at the table.

“He came here?” He asked without looking at you.

“Yes, he said It was important.” You continued. “I think it is about going back to Frankia.” You sat in front of him. “You should take me this time.”

“No.” He answered simply.

“Why not?”

“It’s dangerous, and you have no business in Frankia.”

“I’m a shieldmaiden Rollo, I wasn't made to sit back at home and take care of your children.”

“What children? You haven’t given me any.”

They left to Frankia the next morning, Rollo left without saying a single word to you and something in your heart broke that day. Months later they came back, you were at the pier waiting, your baby bump showing and a big smile on your face, a few days after their departure you found out you were with child, and you couldn’t wait to tell Rollo about It. But as the ship docked, your smile died on your face.

“Where is he?” You asked when Ragnar stood in front of you, his hand immediately touching your belly. He didn’t answer, but you knew, he stayed there.

Later you learned Ragnar was betrayed by Rollo and defeated by Frankia’s army and the last news he had before leaving was about his marriage with a princess. Rollo had abandoned you without a second thought.

Years later, you grew accustomed to a new life, your son was already five years old and growing stronger each day. Ragnar took care of you, accepting you in his house, he protected you and your child, who he named after one of his good friends, Leif, and he loved your boy, after his own boys grew into strong men, to have yours running around gave him life and so did you.

You weren’t blind to Ragnar’s affection towards you, after Aslaug’s death he didn’t have anyone in his life except for you and despite being a sight for sore eyes, you weren’t interested on the men in Kattegat, but both of you never tried anything, maybe you felt wrong about that even though Rollo was gone for so long. However, he wasn’t the only one, Bjorn and Ubbe, Hvitserk and Ivar, and even Sigurd, all had soft spots for you, but you brushed it off and ignored it as something simple as a crush.

One night, without a warning, a ship docked at the pier. People let Ragnar know about it, and he went there with both Bjorn and Ubbe, just to find a ship from Frankia, from where Rollo jumped. He frowned, confused by his brother’s presence, Rollo looked into his eyes and swallowed hard.

With a grunt Ragnar turned around, silently nodding for his sons to grab Rollo by his arms and drag him to the great hall. As soon as they got there, Ragnar took his place in his throne and Rollo was thrown on his knees, at his feet. You heard the noise from your bedroom in the back and walked towards It, standing in shock when you finally saw the man. Rollo seemed old, his once dark brown hair was filled with gray strands, so was his beard, he widened his eyes as soon as they met yours.

“Mama!” You heard Leif’s voice and heard his footsteps running towards you, looking for you. He hugged your legs as soon as he found you. You grabbed him in your arms, Rollo’s eyes focused on the boy and a tiny smile showed up on his face, but that was quickly wiped by a punch, thrown by Bjorn.

“Don’t look at him.” He grunted angrily.

It didn’t take long for Ivar and Hvitserk to join you in the great hall, none of them seemed happy to see the man in front of them, neither were you.

“What are you doing here?” Ragnar rasped.

“I want to come back…” He mumbled.

“Seems funny… After all these years…”

“I have every right to be here, to be with my family.”

“The family you abandoned…”

“I’m here now.”

“You say this like you’re some sort of treasure we should be proud to gain. Tell me, Rollo, what happened in Frankia to make you want to come back?”

“I heard about my son, I want to know him.”

You hugged your son, like you could protect him from Rollo’s prying eyes.

“He’s not yours.” You growled. “He’s mine, only mine. Didn’t your princess give you any sons?”

“Brother��” Rollo looked at Ragnar.

“Don’t talk to him, talk to me, I’m the wife you abandoned!” You insisted but lowered his head again. “This is unbelievable…”

“I want to prove myself.” He answered. “To you…” He looked at Ragnar then moved to you. “And to you.” He sighed. “To the gods… I deserve that!”

It took a few minutes of silence between all of you, Rollo looking around searching for any sign of kindness, but you weren’t one to pity that man, not after everything he put you through.

“Take Leif to the back.” Ragnar told you. “And come back here.”

You didn’t understand at first, but nodded and took your son to your bedroom, asking one of the servants to stay there with him.

“Don’t leave until I come back.” You told her under your breath, locking her inside.

When you came back you found Rollo tied up to a chair in the middle of the great hall, Ragnar was standing in front of him while his sons waited behind him. He looked over his shoulders and offered his hand to you, you frowned but took it, walking until you were standing by his side.

Ragnar grabbed you by your waist, startling you who quickly wrapped your arms around his neck for support when he took you in his arms, bride style, taking you to the nearest table, he sat you there, taking his place between your legs.

“Do you trust me?” He asked under his breath, only for you to hear.

“I do.” You whispered shyly and he smiled.

Ragnar took a cloth from his pocket and covered your eyes, your breath caught on your throat and you sighed heavily. You felt his hand feather touching your face before moving away from your body and you immediately felt the absence of his warmth. The next thing you felt was a pair of hands on your thighs and a warm breath against your cheeks, before you noticed, someone kissed you.

The kiss was feverish, filled with a hunger you never experienced before, you’ve never been kissed like that. Teeth and tongue, saliva gathering on the corners of your mouth, a pair of hands meeting the base of your spine pulling you closer to the edge of the table, his thighs between yours keeping your legs open. He stopped the kiss to murmur against your lips.

“Waited so long to do this.”

You recognized Ragnar’s voice before he kissed you again, your mind spinning when your hands met his hips, unconsciously pulling him into you. His hands roamed down your shoulders taking down the sleeves of your dress. You felt a little self conscious and your body tensed, Ragnar distracted you by taking his kisses down your neck and collarbones, making you shiver. A “what’s this…” growled by Rollo sounded in the back of your mind and something twisted inside you, you felt excited.

Ragnar kept kissing down your chest, taking down your dress until your breasts were exposed, your breath hitched and your nipples hardened on the cold of the great hall. His mouth latched at your nipple, sucking on the little nub, your hands met the back of his head and you pressed his face against your chest, wanting more of that sensation. He did the same to the other nipple, using his hand to knead at the free breast.

Between your legs, Ragnar found the skirts of your dress, raising everything up your waist “Open your legs for me.” He asked against your lips and you obeyed, suddenly he moved away from you and stood by your side, your pussy now in full display for Rollo’s widened eyes.

“What are you doing?” Rollo asked with gritted teeth.

“What do you think?” Ragnar asked back, one hand grabbing a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back and making you whine. “I’m gonna fuck your wife.”

With that being said, Ragnar kneeled in front of you, hands rubbing on your calves before putting them on his shoulders. His lips brushed against the side of your inner thighs, his beard scratching the soft skin as he peppered kisses all around until he shoved his face into your bare pussy, licking from your hole to your clit. Your back arched and you gasped, putting your arms behind your back, on the table, for some support, throwing your head back.

Ragnar was something else while he was eating you out, with a little crowd watching, he wanted to give them a show. With his face buried into your cunt, he was nosing onto your clit while teasing your hole with the tip of his tongue, then he worked through your folds, long and slow licks like he was savoring you, drinking from you. You suppressed a moan, still self conscious of the others presence surrounding you, earning yourself a low grunt that sent vibrations through your core and a harsh slap on your thighs.

Rollo’s eyes were glued to your body, he was growling under his breath, trying to get rid of the straps binding him to that chair. Ragnar moaned right into your pussy, he moved his tongue quickly and you started to grind your hips on his face, gripping his hair and pulling it slightly. His beard was scratching against the soft skin of your pussy, you could feel it rubbing against you painfully while he started sucking on your clit.

Your moans became louder, your hips moved on its own accord, your body was working on automatic, the knot on lower belly forming and tightening. Suddenly, two of his fingers were knuckles deep into your warmth, thrusting up inside you and you gasped: ‘Ragnar’ knowing damn well Rollo was listening to you. Ragnar could feel your walls clenching around his fingers, so he increased his pace, dragging more mewls from your mouth until the knot finally snapped and you groaned loudly.

Ragnar stood up, turning on his side to stare at a nervous Rollo, his face glistening with your slick, he sucked his fingers clean off your juices and cleaned his mouth with the back of his hand. Moving away from between your legs, he held your chin, your fucked out face on full display for his brother’s sight.

“Open your legs.” He ordered again, and you obeyed, showing off your puffy cunt. “Did you miss this, brother? Did your princess have a better one?”

Once again he was between your legs, shimming out of his slacks and pulling his cock out. His hands quickly held the back of your thighs and pulled you further to the edge of the table, his tip featherly touching your hole making you whine.

“See, Rollo…” He grabbed the base of his cock, rubbing it against your pussy and coating himself in your juices. “I don’t think you could ever have anything better.” He pushed himself in and both of you moaned in unison, fresh slick leaking out of you to coat his length.

Ragnar threw his head back, closing his eyes as he felt your warm walls engulfing him, sinking into you slowly until he’s fully sheathed. He pulled back completely just to slam inside you again, he did that slowly a few times, like he was savoring every inch of you, until he was thrusting up inside you and he didn’t hold back. Holding your hips with one of his hands, the other met the space between your breasts, pushing you back until you laid down on the table. You whined, wrapping your legs around his waist to bring him closer.

“Gods…” You moaned, holding onto the table like your life depended on it.

With your eyes covered, you felt everything more intensely, Ragnar’s body on you, picking up the pace until he was pounding hard into you, knocking the breath out of your lungs with every thrust. You clenched down on him and he gasped, hand squeezing your hip hard while the other kneaded on your breasts that bounced with every movement of your body.

When he felt your thighs starting to tremble, he brought his hand to your aching pussy and found your clit, making quick work of your bundle of nerves with the tip of his fingers. You moaned again, loudly, feeling your orgasm approaching you, the knot on your lower belly starting to form.

“Let go for me.” He begged under his breath.

With a particular hard thrust the knot snapped, triggering Ragnar’s own release as he pushed himself to a hilt, his body tensing as both of you panted heavily. He leaned forward for a moment spreading kisses all over your stomach before moving away from between your legs, putting his trousers back and holding one of your knees to keep you wide open, his cum dripping from your pussy, onto the table and on the floor.

“That was...” Ragnar mumbled, three little slaps on your knee had you sitting up straight.

“Can I-Can I go now?” You heard as Rollo begged.

“What? No…” You felt when Ragnar moved away and heard some shifting around you, the thrilling feeling of not knowing what to expect had your pussy throbbing with need in a way It never did before. “We’re only getting started.”

You gulped, scared about what he meant, but excited at the same time. Next thing you knew, the space between your legs was occupied again, a bulky, slightly familiar body stood there like it belonged there, you shifted on your place, not able to close your legs and feeling again self conscious of your own nudity.

“Ragnar…” You mumbled under your breath, a pair of hands touched the sides of your face before you were kissed.

Even though you felt familiarity within the act, that wasn’t Ragnar, that kiss was different, passionate, but still unsure, It felt like he was claiming a new territory. His beard scratched the soft skin on your face, his teeth nipped at your lower lip, you couldn’t help but open up to let him in, you held his face and kissed him back.

“Can I do this?” He mumbled against your lips and you recognized Bjorn’s voice. You gasped, surprised.

“Bjorn…” You whispered, your hands started to shake.

“I’ll be gentle.” He assured you, one of his hands touching the side of your face. “I promise.”

You felt your heart sinking to your stomach, like it was beating there, the blood in your veins ran fast and your body quivered, your mind was spinning, when his hands found the swell of your pussy you whined in his mouth, turning your head to the side giving him room to work on your neck. Bjorn sucked and nipped your skin like an artist painting his masterpiece, taking his sweet time while his fingers worked through your cum wet folds.

He didn’t seem bothered by the fact that another man just fucked you minutes ago, by the feeling of it, he seemed turned on. Two of his fingers entered you when his mouth found your perky nipple and you moaned, arching your back offering him more of your chest. You were overstimulated from your previous orgasm and the sensations Bjorn was bringing to you, your peak wouldn’t take long so you clenched around his fingers and worked your hips in sync with his movements. With his thumb he started to nurse on your clit, rubbing the small bead in tight circles until you came on his fingers, a loud, long moan filling the great hall.

Bjorn wasted no time after this, you felt him standing up and shimming out of his trousers, sinking into you in one swift motion. You gasped, not used to the way he stretched you out, and threw your head back, making room for him to kiss on your neck. He sheathed inside you, not pulling out immediately, just grinding against your hips first, his hip bone teasing your clit.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and arched your back, leaning back over your hands. He used both of his hands to grab your breasts then leaned forward to catch one of your nipples with his mouth, sucking on the perky buds. It was messy. Wet with your own arousal and Ragnar’s cum, you could feel it dripping from your core.

Slowly, Bjorn pulled out completely, just to thrust back in. He did this a few times, dragging soft mewls from your mouth. With his hand between your breasts he made you lay down on the table once more, picking up his pace. You held onto the table while he started to rut against you with full force, your body jolting back and forth. His mouth was skillful on your nipple, going from one to the other and still using his hands.

“You feel so good…” He mumbled, one of his hands leaving your breasts and quickly finding your clit.

You moaned loudly. With two of his fingers he pinched your clit, then dragged his finger around in tiny circles. The pressure on your belly started to build and you squeezed your eyes shut, even though you weren’t actually with them open to start with. Your mind could only focus on his movements, you clenched around his cock and he growled, speeding up his fingers and his thrusts. Bjorn was fucking the air out of your lungs as he fucked you like his life was on the line, his cock throbbed inside you, the sound of skin slapping against skin was filling the great hall and was so loud.

“Enough.”

Somewhere, on the back of your mind, you heard Rollo’s beg, but as your climax approached you could only think of this. Bjorn’s thrusts started to falter, he became sloppier as he chased his own release and you were right behind him, feeling the pressure on your body finally explode. You came around his cock, clenching down on him with a wanton moan. He came right after you, feeling you to the brim with his seed, grunting raspily.

He wobbled away from you and you whined at the sudden emptiness. He leaned against the table trying to catch his own breath, eyes still on your fucked out body on the table. Unconsciously, your hands went to the cloth on your eyes, almost getting out of the way but a cold hand on yours stopped you. You whined impatiently but before you had the chance to complain, the same hand grabbed a handful of your hips, dragging you out of the table until you stood on the ground.

There was this silence, the only thing in your mind being the amount of pleasure going through your veins, you could feel your heart hammering against your ribcage, your breathing uneven, chest rising and falling rapidly while you tried to ease your body. Your hands traveled to the body in front of you, holding his shoulders while he kept his firm on your hips.

You had no idea who he was, you felt his body against yours, the familiar scent you were used to feeling but couldn’t recognize him. His hips met yours and you felt his hard cock against your core, making you moan. Taking your face with both of his hands he kissed you. His kiss was calm, soft even, nothing like the sexual spiral you just got out of. His hands explored the sides of your body with care, like you would vanish from his sight at any moment.

The mess between your legs made you painfully aware of what just happened, either way his fingers found their way to your core, his tips exploring your folds, he coated his fingers in the your slick, the mixed cum inside your pussy, then he pushed his middle one all the way in, til he was knuckle deep inside you. You sobbed and threw your head back when he started to kiss down your jaw so you could give him more space.

His kisses met your neck, he circled your clit and that made you jerk in response. Suddenly his fingers were inside your mouth and you whined at the taste on your tongue. You started sucking on his fingers, obscenely licking through it and he groaned when under his breath, you licked him clean.

He stretched you out with his fingers, pumping in and out of you as he kissed down your chest, your body arching, right thigh rising up his waist opening up a little more for him. He curled his fingers up finding your sweet spot and making you see stars behind your eyelids. You started to grind down on his fingers while the sound of your moans resonated around the great hall. He licked down your collarbones and your legs started to shake, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

You felt like your body was on fire, shaking violently until the knot snapped and your orgasm hit you like a punch. You clenched hard on his fingers, body falling limp on the table, but before you had the chance to ride your own high, your body was pushed and turned around, your back hitting his chest, you could feel his hard cock on your behind, listening while he struggled with his trousers, pulling down his legs til the middle of his thighs, just enough to free his cock from its confines. He teased you with the tip between your ass cheeks and you teased back, grinding on his hips, silently begging for him to just slide in.

He lined his cock to your wet folds, enticing another moan from you and then he pushed in, his tip stretching your walls. You gasped, fingers holding the table for support while you felt him sliding only a few more inches in. His hand rubbed up your back until he grabbed the nape of your neck, you grunted feeling him leaning your body forward, your breasts pressed against the head of the table while he started to thrust up into you.

He was fully inside you when he used his free hand to pinch on your clit, making your body jolt, your walls fluttered around him, a choked whine slipped through your lips as he went deeper. He picked up his pace quickly, hands now on your shoulders tugging your body back to meet his thrusts, your body trembling when you felt the pleasure building up once again, extremely sensitive from everything that already happened to you. You both moaned loudly, he was lost on you just like you were on him, every thrust was powerful and deep, stroking every nerve ending inside your pussy. His hips slapped against yours, the table shaking with his movements.

“Gods…” You cried out, feeling the pressure on your lower belly.

He cursed under his breath, feeling your walls clenching hard around his length, his own climax coming through while you felt the first impact of your orgasm. Your entire body froze as he fucked you through the haze, coming inside you a few seconds later.

“That’s your idea of punishment?” Rollo growled, his voice far away like It was in another room, your mind still dizzy with pleasure. “Are you punishing me or her?”

“Her?” Ragnar scoffed. “I’m not punishing her, brother. Watch It… She likes it. She wanted It.”

You felt a pair of hands wrapping around your waist and your body was gently sat on the table again, the mess between your legs just growing by the minute, staining the soft skin of your thighs and leaving you slightly bothered. A kiss on your forehead had you trembling even more, so you raised your hand trying to hold his.

“Who…?” You couldn’t finish the phrase, but your hand was softly removed and you were left alone.

“It’s done, I’m done!” Rollo tried one more time.

You heard Rollo’s begs one more time, his voice was shaky and you imagined his face. If you remembered correctly at this point he would be all red and sweaty and your tummy twisted with excitement, you shouldn’t like this as much as you were.

“Well… We’re not.” Ragnar answered carefully.

For a moment nothing happened, you sat there with your body trembling. The line between pleasure and pain was thin and your body had started to complain about It. Suddenly you felt someone taking the place between your legs one more time but despite being so tired, your mind seemed to have other plans, your skin prickled at the warmth engulfing you, another familiar scent wrapping your whole body.

He didn’t waste any time, he kissed you… Kissed you like he craved you, feverishly. His lips moved in sync against yours while his hands roamed through your sweaty body. You wrapped your arms around his neck, hugged him with your legs feeling his hard cock against your abused cunt. You were too sensitive, your body was hot all over, and even though It was telling you It couldn’t take it any longer, your fucked out brain wanted more.

You grinded against his hips and started to fumble with his trousers until you freed his cock from its confines. You grabbed at his length and he moaned in your mouth, waiting for you to align the head of his cock against the pulsing entrance of your pussy and you cried out at the new intrusion, feeling incredibly sore.

Overwhelmed by pleasure, you started to grind against his hips again, urging him to fuck you. With both of his hands on your hips, he set an excruciatingly slow rhythm, distracting you with his mouth on your neck, he started to paint your skin in dark bruises. You cried again, threw your head back while letting your hands on his shoulders, digging your nails into his shoulders to anchor yourself, like his body was the only thing keeping you grounded, keeping you from floating away.

With one of his hands, he started to play with your clit, massaging the sensitive nub between his fingers, dragging more mewls from your lips, making you writhe against his strong grip. His cock was unrelenting, picking up his pace as he started to fuck you hard and deep, your sensitivity only amplifying the waves of pleasure that crossed your veins. Your pussy fluttered around his length and he knew you were close, hips bucking to meet his thrusts, the spongy head of his cock was pressing directly against your g-spot and you moaned loudly.

You felt his hand snaking up your chest until it found your neck and he pressed for a moment, your breath hitched, caught up in your throat and you clenched down on him. You got lightheaded and his thrusts became sloppier, you could feel he got lost in yourself very quickly and arousal twisted in your stomach, you felt flattered.

He gave a chucked off groan and for a moment you imagined who it could be, which one of them was fucking you this time, the great hall was filled with his grunts and the wet squelch of your pussy.

“Faster… Please…” You managed to mumble.

Your pussy was clenching desperately around his cock and he was throbbing inside you, he was close too, you could feel it. He fucked you hard and faster until he sheated tightly into your pussy holding you in place as he came, triggering your own orgasm. You came so hard your mind went blank, your body spasmed and you went limp in his arms. He held you strongly so you wouldn’t fall, your head on his shoulders as you breathed heavily. He rubbed your back for a minute before he pulled out and after making you sure you were firm, sitting on the table, he left.

“I-I… Ragnar…” You raised your hand blindly and seconds later you felt his fingers intertwined with yours.

“You’re doing great for me, my love.” He whispered, lips on your sweaty forehead. “Can you give me one more?”

“I don’t know…” You breathed.

“I know you can, you’re my good girl, aren’t you?” He kissed your lips. “Give me one more so we can take care of you.”

We. You noticed the weird choice of word and felt him when he kissed your knuckles. We. What did he mean by that? Your thoughts were cloudy when his warmth surrounded you again, he picked you up in his arms and you immediately wrapped yours around his neck, laying down your face on his shoulders, letting him carry you wherever.

Ragnar sat you down on someone’s lap, when you felt a pair of shaky legs right under your body and nervous hands wrapping around your waist. He turned you around, made you put one of your knees on each side of that body and just like that he left. There was a nervous silence between you two, but you were close enough to feel his shaky breath against your cheeks.

Suddenly, he used one of his hands to take off your blind fold, you blinked your tears away, trying to get used to the new brightness. You focused on the image in front of you and met Ivar’s widened eyes staring back at you. Ivar was nervous, but you could sense his arousal in the way that he watched you, intently following down your body, from your face to your collar bones and your chest, your soft belly and your exposed core, he gulped.

You stayed like that for a moment, only looking at each other like you were trying to read each other’s minds, you almost forgot about the little crowd watching you two but as his eyes wandered over your shoulders you were reminded.

“C-Can I kiss you?” He stuttered and you nodded dumbfounded. His lips touched yours slightly, shaky and cold, you didn’t kiss him back at first, then he pulled back, looking at you with a frown and a little pout. “You don’t want to…”

“No!” You were quick to respond. “I want to. I really want to, Ivar.” You reassured him and his expression softened.

You cradled his face between your hands and kissed him, this time deeply, your tongue teasing his as you felt his hands pressing on waist, pressing your body down. When you pulled away, he was gone, glossy eyes staring back at you as he choked out a whimper, following your face with his eyes still closed, reaching for your lips.

He sighed and opened his eyes, he frowned again, so impatient. You touched his lips with your thumb, fluffy and wet from your last kiss and he licked the tip, you shuddered. Being that close he seemed so young to you, kinda lost in his own feelings and sensations, so different from the Ivar you knew, he always seemed so sure of himself.

Ivar opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but as you rolled your hips down his lap he gasped, that seemed to erase every trace of thought in his head, he just closed his eyes and whimpered, throwing his head back. You used the chance to latch onto his neck, groaning quietly against his skin. Gods, you were soaked. It was definitely not like you hadn’t been fucked into oblivion by four men already, you were ready to get lost one more time. You licked his skin, sucked and nipped, leaving behind tiny red marks, basking in the sounds he was making.

“Can I?” You asked him and he nodded, that was the only permission you needed to come back to his neck, to start rolling your hips over again.

The rumors about the young man not being able to satisfy a woman were the biggest lie, you thought to yourself. You could feel him getting hard under your body and the thought of having him inside you was driving you mad.

“I’m so wet for you, Ivar.” You murmured against his ear, only for him to hear you and he whimpered again, thrusting up his hips a bit.

“For me?” He whispered breathlessly and you nodded, tracing his lips with your thumb again before kissing him feverishly.

“Yes.” You grabbed his hand and put it between your bodies, his fingers met with your core, rubbing the mess of fluids on your pussy. “Will you help me?”

He nodded, dumbfounded. You used your hand between your bodies to grab his cock and started jerking slowly, his lips parted as he gasped for air. The fact that these small touches were bringing so much pleasure to him was even more exciting to you. Your faces are so close you can feel his breath against your cheeks, your lips almost touch and his fingers trembled between your legs, nervously moving between your folds.

Abruptly, you intensified your movements, he choked out a groan and closed his eyes, precum was leaking from his tip, making it easier for you to slide your hand up and down his cock, that pulsed and twitched in your hand. Quickly you moved it away, standing up a bit to line up his cock with your entrance, he looked at you like you were some sort of goddess, silently worshiping you, shaky hands wrapping around your waist as you sat down his length.

“Gods… Please…” He groaned when he felt your warm walls engulfing him.

You placed your hand on his shoulders as you fucked yourself over his cock, slowly moving your hips up and down. You brought his hand back down your body and started to use his fingers to massage your clit.

“Like this?” He asked in awe.

“Yes…” You answered under your breath.

Quickly you started to bounce on his cock, riding him like your life depended on it. The great hall was filled with Ivar’s small grunts and your breathy moans. You squeeze at his shoulders and threw your had back, he kept his fingers in your clit, drawing hard circles on your little nub just like you taught him and you could feel him twitching inside you, you knew he was close and so were you.

You moaned with every thrust, you hunched over and kissed him, his arms wrapped around your waist and he pushed you down on his cock. You felt his release and he moaned loudly against your mouth. Your own high coming down hard on you as you clenched on him, cumming for what felt like the thousandth time that night.

You laid down on his shoulder for a moment, trying to ease your breathing as you came down from your orgasm. He hugged you tightly, thumb drawing small circles on your back and you could fall asleep right there, you closed your eyes and your consciousness almost abandoned you for a moment, that’s when you felt someone taking you up from Ivar’s lap and you whined, feeling empty and sore.

“I’ll take care of you.” Ragnar mumbled in your ear. “Take him out, we don’t want him here.”

You imagined he was referring to Rollo who was finally silent, or maybe you just stopped listening to your surroundings. In Ragnar's arms you did fall asleep, waking up again only when you felt a warm cloth between your legs, you quickly moved away from the touch but was stopped by a pair of hands on your legs.

“I’m just cleaning you up.” Ragnar told you and you opened your eyes, finding him sitting by your side, you looked around and recognized his bedroom, the furs were soft against your skin and you were extremely tired.

“Was I good?” You asked under your breath, reaching out for his hand, which he really took, taking it to his lips, spreading kisses all over it.

“So good...” He said it against your skin and you smiled tiredly.

After cleaning you up he snuggled by your side, covering your bodies with fur and putting your head on his chest, rubbing your hair as you slowly fell back to sleep.

“Our best girl.” Was the last thing you heard before drifting into slumber.

***

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maxdibert · 10 days ago

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It shouldn’t surprise me that the Arcane fandom has a hefty dose of internalized misogyny, but honestly, it’s exhausting to constantly see how female characters are judged, condemned, and demonized for the simple "sin" of being complex, layered, and morally questionable, while the fandom favorite is a drug lord who used a populist, nationalist rhetoric to justify child exploitation and drug trafficking that poisoned the very people he claimed to defend. Yes, I’m talking about Silco. The same Silco who threw a little girl in prison and took her younger sister, making her believe her older sister didn’t care about her anymore. The same Silco who projected his traumas onto a kid and manipulated her into being his weapon. The same Silco who posed as the "people’s champion" while being one of the main reasons the people were dying in the first place.

And don’t get me wrong—I love Silco. He’s a fantastic villain, and his relationship with Jinx is as fascinating as it is deeply uncomfortable at times. But it feels incredibly cynical to see people excuse all the atrocities he committed, or at least try to understand them, while they spent all of season one attacking characters like Mel for being ambitious and power-hungry, doing morally questionable things. Sorry, but none of Mel’s actions in season one even come close to Silco’s level of ethical depravity with the whole shimmer situation, yet Mel got dragged.

Vi—perhaps the series’ ultimate punching bag of suffering—who lost her parents, stepped up to take care of her sister, carried the responsibility of being the eldest (as tasked by Vander to protect the group), lost her "siblings" and "father" in one night, got wrongfully imprisoned as a kid, spent years in jail for nothing, only to come out and see that her sister had turned into a monster and that the man responsible for their adoptive father’s death was now the kingpin of the Undercity—was treated like absolute crap by the fandom. Why? Because she didn’t understand or accept that her younger sister was suddenly cool with a man who was poisoning the city? The same man who killed their father figure? I remember people calling Silco the "Father of the Year" and Vi the "Worst Sister of the Decade," and I was genuinely floored. Like, as a meme, sure, it’s funny. But as an actual take? The level of cognitive dissonance is wild.

And now, in this season, of course, the hate is all directed at Caitlyn. Why? Because instead of being the idealistic nepo baby who dreams of coexistence like in season one, she’s dealing with severe PTSD after being kidnapped and witnessing a missile nearly obliterate her mother. And people just can’t seem to grasp that. They can understand a man going from revolutionary to drug lord, using the idea of freedom and the people’s anger to expand his shady business and exploit children, but they can’t understand a young woman becoming incredibly violent out of a thirst for revenge.

What these reactions tell me is that men can be the absolute worst scum narrative writing has ever birthed, and it’s fine because everyone will bend over backwards to understand their motivations or at least where they’re coming from. But if we’re talking about women who aren’t compliant, who overreact, who struggle to manage their emotions or trauma, or who don’t behave the way women are "supposed" to behave, there’s no room for understanding. No excuses, no empathy. They’re just bitches, villains, or—like people are now saying about Caitlyn—"fascists."

Look, the fact that people are calling Caitlyn a fascist while never using that term for Silco—who was literally a despot—isn’t just cognitive dissonance; it’s hypocrisy at its finest.

#arcane #arcane netflix #caitlyn kiramman #mel medarda #vi #arcane vi #arcane mel #arcane caitlyn #silco #arcane silco #Excusing shitty men while condemning shitty women is misogyny.#i'm very annoyed btw #some people in this fandom is just... ugh #i mean silco turns me on too but he was still a scumbag #well i'm done

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rose24207 · 2 days ago

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Family Business

Summary: An evening where Lando and his wife recognise themselves in their children.

Genre: Mafia!Dad!Lando, fluff

TW: None

A/N: I have like so many stories in my drafts and just post them because why not? English is not my first language! I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!

Should I make a series out of this?

Masterlist

The grand villa was alive with laughter and warmth, an unusual sight for a house belonging to one of the most feared mafia families in Europe.

Lando Norris, heir to the Norris empire, sat at the head of the massive dining table, a glass of red wine in hand. The glow of the chandelier above reflected in his sharp eyes, but there was a softness to him tonight.

To his left sat you, his wife, the polar opposite of his ruthless world.

Where he ruled with strategy and precision, you led with compassion and kindness. You had a unique ability to bring light to the dark corners of his life, and tonight was no exception.

You were serving dessert yourself, much to the dismay of the staff.

“Madam, please,” Maria, the head of the kitchen, protested. “This is our job.”

“Oh, nonsense,” you said with a warm smile, placing a plate of chocolate cake in front of one of the guards. “You all work so hard. Let me treat you for once.”

Lando watched you with a mixture of amusement and adoration. The hardened men who feared his orders like gospel melted under your kindness, mumbling grateful thanks as you handed out plates.

Across the table, your children were mid-debate.

“No, no, you don’t get it,” Amelia, your ten-year-old daughter, argued, her small hands slamming the table for emphasis. “Papa’s the coolest. He’s strong, and smart, and everyone listens to him. I’m gonna be just like him!”

Lando smirked at that, leaning back in his chair. “Is that so, Amelia?”

“Yup!” She nodded confidently, her dark curls bouncing. “I’ll run the family business one day. Better than you, even.”

“Ambitious,” Lando said, raising his glass in mock salute. “I like it.”

Your eight-year-old son, Jacob, rolled his eyes. “You’re all so dramatic. Mama’s the best. She’s nice to everyone, and she doesn’t yell like Papa.”

Lando raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. “I don’t yell.”

“You yelled at Uncle Carlos last week,” Jacob pointed out.

“That was a strategic discussion,” Lando replied, struggling to keep a straight face.

You laughed, shaking your head as you returned to your seat. “Jacob’s right. You do yell.”

Amelia crossed her arms, glaring at her brother. “You’re too soft, Jacob. How are you supposed to run the business if you can’t even scare anyone?”

“I don’t want to run the business,” Jacob said matter-of-factly, stabbing his fork into his cake. “I’m going to be a veterinarian.”

“A vet?” Amelia wrinkled her nose. “That’s boring.”

“Amelia,” you chided gently. “It’s not boring if it’s what Jacob wants. Besides, being kind is just as important as being strong.”

Amelia huffed, but your words sank in.

Lando observed the exchange quietly, marveling at the balance you brought to their lives.

Later that evening, after the kids had gone to bed, you and Lando sat on the terrace overlooking the gardens. The night air was cool, and the stars were scattered across the sky like diamonds.

“She’s got your fire, that one,” you said, leaning against Lando’s shoulder.

“And he’s got your heart,” Lando replied, lacing his fingers with yours. “We’re raising a mini us, you know.”

You laughed softly. “Is that a good thing?”

Lando kissed the top of your head. “The best thing.”

For a moment, the world outside the villa—his world of deals, betrayals, and shadows—felt far away.

Here, with you, with his children, he was simply Lando. A man who had everything he’d ever wanted, and more than he thought he deserved.

As the staff cleared the dining room below, they whispered among themselves, as they always did.

About how Mr. Norris was terrifying, yes, but also fiercely devoted to his wife.

About how Madam Norris made their lives better with her warmth and generosity.

About how the children were growing into reflections of their parents—Amelia, bold and determined, and Jacob, gentle and kind.

It wasn’t a typical mafia family, no. But it was theirs. And that was more than enough.

Thank you for reading!

#lando x reader #lando x you #lando imagine #lando norris #mafia!lando #f1 mafia au #f1 x reader #f1 #dad!lando #fluff

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rasoyas · 20 days ago

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Darius King for @bunnithechubs' beautiful & bratty Penny! 🍷

y'all ordered a dilf, right? i got a hot and fresh one, right outta the oven! he ain't toxic, but he'd love to indulge some bratty behavior. 😉

darius king is an incredibly successful and surprisingly private businessman - a land management and real estate magnate, his name is up there with the altos, fengs, and landgraabs. and yes, you'll note that it says "his" name: darius king built his company, king foundations, from the ground up. his focus lies in degentrification and the support of local business, building up places like his hometown of simton, north simolina into prospering and affordable townships.

he's a largely private man, only intensified by the loss of his wife when his twins were very young. while he's a sharp and calculating businessman, darius' entire world revolves around his two boys, zephaniah and zion. while they want for nothing, darius has filled their life with as much normalcy as possible, and the two are genuinely sweet and kind young men.

thoughtful, too. thoughtful enough to notice that of all the things their dad is so silent and taciturn about, there's little signs of his "little thing" for penny pizzazz all around the penthouse. magazines she's featured in, tickets to fashion shows she may attend, her social media being one of seven he publicly follows...

well, darius wasn't thrilled about the concept of entering a bachelorette challenge when his boys told him they'd signed him up for one. but when he learned it was penny pizzazz's bachelorette challenge, well...

let's just say, he's a grown man - and he’s on grown man's business. 😉

darius is ambitious, an art lover, and romantically reserved

he's fiercely protective of his sons, and has lost a lot of his life to furthering his business and raising his twins.

zephaniah (zeph) is a street fashion blogger (left) and zion is a football 🏈 player who was just signed to his college of choice (right)

born in a very small and run-down town in the south: comfortable in his wealth, but remains a southern boy deep at heart

stoic and charismatic, he enjoys being a listener and indulging people in their own energies.

and he is indulgent. he loves spoiling people, be that with surprise gifts, trips, dinners, you name it. he enjoys standing there, basking in the glow of your excitement while he smiles oh-so-indulgently, quiet but for the twinkle in his eye.

like he'd absolutely let penny yell and stomp her foot and whine in his face with a smile on his face before presenting her with some $10k bracelet in smug victory djkhfd

i mean he's a brat-tamer what can i say i'm sorry

self-assured to a fault: he's coming in feeling lofty as hell and "above" the competition. he's here to sweep a young lady off her feet, okay? he's not here to make friends.

his voice is deep and even-toned and warm like bourbon.

he was going to be on the cover of forbes, but alas... editing.

#SIMTON NORTH SIMOLINA somebody fuckin stop me fdkjghfjkg (its grifton)#ts4 #ts4 edit #ts4 screenshots #ts4 simblr #pennys bc #sim: darius #sim: zephaniah #sim: zion #(zeph is in red and is older by two seconds! zion is in the black jacket and is younger)#darius has been single for like… too long okay #they’re TEENS they’re still babies okay he’s not goin after a girl thats his sons’ age #he’s just a man of finer tastes ok ok ok #i’m so sorry i fangirled way too hard abt this man all over this post but #he captivated me while i was taking pictures #these look SOOO orangey on mobile but they look stunning on desktop i promise #in light of america’s bullshit here’s some black excellence 😤😤😤

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cod-dump · 3 months ago

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The Guy to Know

pricenik

(also on ao3, word count 15509)

_____

John didn't always thinks things through, he was quick to let his impulses win. His captain said he was a handful, though John found joy in that, making the old man run in circles. He was a pain the ass but he was, undoubtfully, good at what he does. He had a bite to him that helped him survive. That's why he was on Captain MacMillan's team, why he was SAS.

Yes, he would consider himself hotheaded, running in head first without much forethought. It was something his captain would get onto him for, something his teammates rolled their eyes at because ‘That’s just like you’.

He meets someone promising glory at the end of what should be a brief trip out of country? He can't refuse, but maybe he should've thought about it a little longer, he didn't know this woman. But, he was impulsive. That was John Price's specialty.

“I don’t like going in bare, Kate.”

He knew Kate for a few months now. She was CIA, young and ambitious. Was sniffing around Liverpool for a week before she sat next to him during a football game. She knew him and John wasn’t fond of her knowing so much about him when he didn’t know an equal amount about her.

He didn’t trust her but then she brought up his captain by name and he relaxed. Now he was starting to think he jumped into this strange friendship too quickly. He wasn’t sure how she convinced him to fly into Russia, no weapons, fake passports and ID’s, disguised as a couple on vacation. He knew Mac would probably be disappointed he got himself into this situation so quickly after he went on leave.

“It’s a hassle to smuggle gear in, so we’re picking some up there.”

“Picking some up? Going shopping?”

Kate ignored his sarcastic tone, “I know a guy.”

He scoffed, wondering how well she actually knew him.

She rented a car and drove them from the airport and out of the city. He could die out here, like an idiot. Mac wouldn’t even know, he’ll come back from leave wondering where his idiot sergeant ran off to.

They got to a small, small town and stopped by an auto shop. It was busy, full of men yelling in Russian. Quite a few of them had visible tattoos, a lot of them were smoking, and all of them eyed them like meat when they walked in. Kate wasn’t fazed, asking for a man named Nikolai. Those were the magic words because once that name was spoken, the door to the office in the back opened.

John Price was a bold man. He argues with superiors like it was his job, his opinion was always known. Yet he clammed up the moment he saw the mountain of a man that was Nikolai. Kate told him she knew a guy but this wasn’t who he was expecting.

Big, recently shaved head and face. He had a fresh, red scar on his shoulder that peaked from his collar. He was cautious yet walked like he couldn’t care less about where he was or who he was with. Kate whispered something to him, something in Russian that John couldn’t translate. He figured it was a passcode or something because the man visibly relaxed even more, grinning.

“This your guy?”

John swallowed, Kate eying him when he shifted on his feet.

“Nikolai. This is the sergeant I was telling you about. John Price.”

Nikolai stared at him, stared like he was reading his very soul. John felt like a child who knew they were seconds away from being scolded. But Nikolai didn’t scold or say anything that he was expecting. ‘I’m not impressed’ , ‘This is what I have to work with?’, ‘Don’t get in my way’ -- Nothing of the sort. He just nodded, as if satisfied, before he whistled a particular tune.

Suddenly they were surrounded and John was ready to go on the defensive. But Kate grabbed his arm.

“Don’t.”

Two men approached Nikolai, carrying a trunk. They sat it at his feet and Nikolai took out a key that had been hidden in his shirt, hanging from what John had previously presumed to be a simple gold chain. Inside the trunk was weapons, ammo, a bag, and a couple body armor vests.

“Bag has the intel you need to get in.”

John blinked, keeping close to Kate as she moved to fetch the items from the trunk.

“How much is she paying you?”

Nikolai eyed him and Kate sighed, throwing a vest into his arms as an attempt to change the subject. But Nikolai was interested, smirking as he turned his body to face John.

“Honestly? She’s not paying the full amount I would be asking. But! I like her.”

John stares at Kate who honestly looks offended, “I will leave you here in the streets if you say anything.”

Kate glares and John shuts up, Nikolai laughing gleefully. John shivering at the sound. Deep into enemy territory, dragged into a job by a woman he honestly didn’t know that well convinced him to help her with, and they’re being helped by a guy who’s doing it because he likes Kate. He was smelling disaster ahead of them. He didn’t trust this man, didn’t know what he had in on this and didn’t know much about him other than ‘Chimera’.

A callsign? Organization? He saw nothing in the auto shop that could give him any clues and Kate wasn’t giving him much to go on besides ‘trust me’.

“Pick up your gun, Price. We have a job to do.”

John grabbed the weapon from the trunk, making eye contact with Nikolai. John turned away to focus on Kate and this job he got roped into, choosing to ignore the intense staring that Nikolai was directing solely on him. He was getting out of this country as soon as possible if Kate doesn’t get him killed.

She had gotten them this far, so he had to trust that she would get them to the end.

Kate didn’t just get gear from Nikolai, she had a vehicle that had more supplies waiting behind the auto shop. She had originally told him she had this planned for a while and that she just needed some muscle to help make things happen and he was honestly impressed.

“We’re heading into enemy territory, now, John.”

“Oh, we’re not in it now?”

Kate glared at him while John smirked. She was fighting a smile, he could tell. If she gets them killed at least he managed to annoy her.

___

He honestly hadn’t expected that the Russian arms dealer would come in at the last possible moment to practically save the day. They were under heavy fire and John had lost his helmet ages ago. He was sure this was it, his last moments, until an armored van busted through a brick wall.

The majority of their ops were crushed and the rest was quickly taken care of. And Nikolai, that bastard, opened a door with a grin and a cigarette between his lips. John was honestly frozen in place as Kate quickly ran over and jumped into the van, making sure to secure her intel before she yelled at John to get his ass in the van.

He had to run and dive in the door that Nikolai had wide open as more ops showed up to the scene. He was clinging to the seat as he laid on the man’s lap, the van’s driver taking off the moment Nikolai grabbed his vest to secure him. John’s heart was pounding as he heard gun fire, Kate laying in the backseat as bullets nail the sides of the van.

The driver sped along the tiny dirt road, Nikolai’s men shooting out the windows at their pursuers. John managed to get crawled into the seat between Nikolai and the driver, sitting up with a huff. Nikolai was grinning as he grabbed a gun from the glovebox, turning to John as he tried to steel himself.

“We have ten minutes to get them off our tail so we can disappear smoothly, which is greatly preferred. Think you can manage that, sergeant?”

John scoffed, grabbing the gun, “I’ll do it in five.”

With that, he grabbed Nikolai’s cigarette and put it between his teeth, climbing into the backseat with Kate. She had a rifle loaded, ready to stick out the window.

“Hey, need you to get that drive out of here or all of this was for nothing.”

“I’m not helpless, John.”

He uses that opportunity to trade guns, giving her the handheld as he took the rifle, “Didn’t say you were.”

John climbs into the very back with Nikolai’s men. He was always a good shot and he was hoping that wouldn’t fail him now.

The language barrier wasn’t enough to keep John from being able to communicate to one of the men of his plan. Maybe he had a vague understanding of English, enough to know to aim for the tires as soon as John swung one of the back doors open.

“John!”

Kate didn’t like the plan of him making the inside of the van open and vulnerable.

“Whatever you’re doing make it quick!”

John shot at the tires as Kate yelled at him, growling when it wasn’t slowing down their pursuers. He ducked when one of Nikolai’s men grabbed him and shoved him to the floor, roughly shoving a metal crate in front of them for cover. Then, John noticed something in the corner of the van, stuck in a vest.

Jackpot.

“Grenade going out!”

Pin out and a well place throw, the grenade launched onto the road and under the front vehicle --

BOOM!

John watched the front vehicle launch into the air, flipping and crashing into the vehicle immediately behind it. He watched as the vehicles ram into one another while others swerved, running off the road and some ramming into trees. John laughed as did the men around him. Two grabbed the back doors and shut them, John slumping against the back set where Kate laid.

“What’s the time?”

Kate snorted, “4:55, bastard.”

He heard Nikolai laugh out and John took that as his success.

___

The safe house was deep in an old town, half of the buildings were run down and there were very few residents. John wondered if they were even civilians and not more of Nikolai's people. He seemed to have them everywhere. He had resources, a lot of them. John wondered where he had managed to get it all.

”Nikolai isn’t actually your name, is it?”

The man hummed, in disagreement or agreement? John wasn’t exactly sure. John took it as agreement.

”What is your real name?”

”Fae can’t just give their real name out like that, sergeant.”

John blinks and Nikolai snickers to himself. Oh, the man has jokes.

”If you must have a surname, Nikolai Chimera would do just fine.”

”Yea, I’m not doing that.”

Nikolai seemed to have a permanent, smug look on his face. One of near constant amusement.

“I have to know-”

Nikolai was quick to interrupt with a smirk, “Have to? You seem to be alive and well without knowing.”

John glared with no heat, “As I was saying...”

He paused for a moment, waiting for another interruption but Nikolai said nothing, smiling as he sat there silently. John huffed, looking away to hide the smile attempting to take hold.

“How’d you meet Kate?”

“Ah, Kate? How did you meet her?”

“She crawled into the seat behind me while I was watching a home game. Football, but she wasn’t there for sports. Knew my captain by name and reputation, wanted to see if I was willing to work with her when he wasn’t.”

Nikolai hummed, “Similar story. She found me... enjoying a sport of my own. Brought up a sensitive name and with the promise of helping me and my ambitions. She’s kept her word so far so I’ll keep mine.”

John wasn’t satisfied, Nikolai’s answer being far too vague. Maybe John was too open, too easy to read. Kate read him far too easily despite their brief relationship, Nikolai was either as sharp as her or John needed to learn to shut his trap. Mac always kept saying he liked to talk a bit too much, liked to be noisy.

“Kate only knows my business because she dug deep. Want it from me then you’ll have to do the same or buy me dinner.”

John felt his ears go hot, that had to be a joke. Nikolai has been full of them with a healthy dose of sarcasm. But he didn’t hear any sarcasm and it made him restless, the need to move making him stand quickly. He cleared his throat and stepped away, keeping his back to Nikolai. The Russian snickered, so it was a joke. He got the reaction he wanted and John bit his tongue to keep himself from saying anything that would reveal his embarrassment.

He could hear Nikolai standing, moving past him to grab something. He didn't have to brush shoulders but chose to. John had to restrain a shudder as goosebumps lit up his shoulder and arm.

"One of mine is bringing food. Fresh and hot."

"Food?" John wanted to kick himself for the crack in his voice, clearing his throat as soon as he heard it.

“Да, Kate picked.”

John nodded, unable to look at Nikolai as the man moved around the room calmly. He was unbothered, even seemed quite pleased with himself.

"John-"

As soon as John heard Kate's voice he quickly left the room. He heard nothing from Nikolai about his obvious retreat. Kate was sitting in a plush chair that didn't fit the surrounding room. Sitting cross legged with a pad of paper on her lap, she was deciphering something, maybe a code from a contact, he didn't bother asking or taking a closer look as he sat on the couch adjacent from her.

"You came in here quickly..."

"You need- You called so-"

Kate eyed him before she bit her lip to stop a laugh. His face felt like it was on fire and Kate was very happy about it.

"Thought I was picking something up about you."

Price glared, "I'm tired, I'm hungry, this place is cold, and I'll have to have a good long chat with Mac when this shit is over."

Kate hummed, still smirking. He turned from her, not finding her teasing easily digestible with Nikolai's comment from a mere few minutes ago.

"I'll come back to that on a later date."

John grunts and decides to look back at her, "What's that?"

"Crossword."

John blinked and leaned over before he groaned. He flopped over the length of the sofa, exhausted. Kate snorted as she took her time reading over her puzzle while relaxed, unlike him.

"MacMillan has high praise for you, didn't expect you to be... this when I met you at that game in Liverpool."

"First off; you stalked and cornered me while I was enjoying an excellent hot dog with some chips. Secondly; Wait until I get my harmonica then you'll see exactly who that Scottish cunt has been dealing with."

Kate let's out a laugh, "God, I thought that was a joke."

"I love a good tune and this fucking place hasn't had shit."

"Wow-"

John was almost completely fused with the sofa, allowing himself to close his eyes. He could hear Kate giggling and he found himself finally relaxing. He was still on foreign turf, starving, a slight chill that was becoming irritating, and he was desperate for at least ten minutes of shut eye.

John opens his eyes when he hears what is now the very familiar sound of Nikolai's boots, walking into the room. John turned his head when he noticed the man standing behind the back of the couch, he didn't want to risk making eye contact. Kate saw this and grinned. He was giving her fuel and he had only himself to blame.

"Food has arrived."

John focuses on Kate, trying to keep his sanity in check, "What you order?"

"Pizza."

"Kate..."

"With olives."

"Kate-"

Nikolai chuckles, "There's more than one kind."

"Thank you."

John sat up, he could feel that Nik was standing behind him and it just sent a chill down his spine. Kate unfolded her legs, setting her pad of paper on the arm before she stood.

"I'm eating a whole pie. The rest of you have to share."

John snorts, "You can keep it. It's already been tainted."

"I'm putting olives in your birthday cake."

John gags, "And that's why you're not invited."

Kate walks past, grinning. There was a moment of silence before Nikolai spoke, "You don't like olives?"

It was a simple comment, John looking over his shoulder at the man, "I don't hate them but I could live happily without them."

Nikolai stared at him and John had to fight to not look away. Finally, he steps away back into the other room.

"Noted."

John blinked before the smell of pizza coaxed him into standing and joining the others.

___

John slept easier than expected. He got out with bruises and a sore ankle and honestly that's the best he's ever left with. Kate had her intel and now they were prepping to head back to the UK, there Kate would get a ride back home to the States and John would have a little meeting with Captain MacMillan. He wasn't looking forward to it.

"Maybe if I walk in speaking Russian, he'll be so shocked that he'll be nice."

Kate rolls his eyes, "With what we gained he'll have no choice but to be nice. Intel on the Russian Ultranationalists, plus a new friend... if you choose not to leave that in Russia."

John bristled, Kate watching him.

"The fuck are you on?"

Kate sighs, "Are you that dense?"

John glares and Kate scoffs, looking away. John wasn't sure what she was on, not fully. He had a feeling he knew but he wasn't willing to speak it into existence. So far the obvious wasn't stated and John could live his life without it. Though Kate didn't seem willing to leave it be.

"I know enough on Nikolai to know he won't be offended. He's a pretty open-minded man."

John stands and Kate tenses for a second. He says nothing, again not wanting it to be said but it was heading there. Kate remained where she sat, keeping her composure. He felt his heart pound, head swimming as he stared at her. This topic was never a easy one to have, especially not with someone he had know for only little over a month. Was it bait? Was she trying to get him to admit something that he won't be able to take back?

”He won’t take offense if he were to learn you had a cr-“

"We're not close enough to have any discussions like that. Clear?"

Kate looks him up and down, a quick thought cross her mind before she nods, "Crystal."

___

"You're goin' off on your own now, huh?"

John was around the same height as the captain, but the man had bulk over him. He was intimidating, especially when annoyed or, god forbid, angry. John took a lot from him, mimicking a lot of things that made Captain MacMillan the cunt he was.

"With the example you set?"

The man lets out a short laugh, not showing much amusement in his expression. John flicks his eyes away, trying to look anywhere but his captain. The man just stared, like he was trying to set him on fire.

"I was working with the CIA, like I told you. It wasn't like I was fucking around for my own amusement."

"Hm... CIA? Don't remember ever giving you clearance..."

"She approached me."

Mac huffs, "Did she?"

This wasn't getting him anywhere so John tried to shift the subject, "I have a contact."

It worked because Mac leaned over his desk, "A contact?"

"Russian arms dealer. His name's Nikolai, runs an outfit called Chimera."

The face Mac made showed that John had an in back to his good side.

"Chimera? They've been opposing the ultranationalists. Intercepting convoys and taking that cargo for themselves. They sell it to clients, too," John hums, trying to keep his composure, "You have contact with that Nikolai?"

John nodded and Mac laughed, "God, I was gone for a month-"

”I can get shit done without your constant hovering, old man.”

Mac snorts, “Got a way to contact him?”

John spoke without thinking, “Yes.”

”Oh? Well, I’d like to have a word with him, seeing as he likes to fuck with the people who make my job literal hell.”

John nods and Mac goes to speak but John interrupts with raising his hand, standing as he does.

”… Jonathan, do you actually-?”

”Yes.”

Mac just watched in confusion as John backed out of the room. Maybe he watched out of amusement, wanting to see how deep of a hole John could dig himself. John didn't look back, trying not to run down the hall. Sikes passed him, stopping when he didn't say a word to him.

"Where are you running off to?"

John doesn't reply and disappears around the corner. He hopes that Mac won't say anything, save him the embarrassment, but he wasn't that nice. John would prefer to be off base by then. Maybe running off again wasn't the smartest thing but while Mac tended to be an ass, he had a soft spot for him, and John planned to take full advantage of that.

If the old man wants to meet Nikolai, then John is going to get him that meeting. He just... needs to make a phone call and apologize to Kate. They didn't leave on a good note and John hasn't stopped thinking about it. She didn't come off as that kind of person, someone who would hold personal information like that over her teammates, but she's CIA and frankly, John isn't sure about her.

Still, he gets to a payphone and dials the number Kate left him with despite the sourness in the air.

"Yes, I would like to speak to an Agent Kate Laswell... Sergeant John Price, SAS."

Those few minutes when he was on hold was excruciatingly long. He counted two and a half but it felt like thirty. The line clicked and he heard Kate take a breath before speaking.

"John?"

"Hey, Kate! Uh... how are you?"

He wanted to bash his head against the wall but he strained himself, didn't need to add another quirk to the growing list.

"I'm well... How'd things go with the cap? Is he mad? I have that intel already submitted, I can have someone give him a call and send him a record to get him off your ass if needed."

She sounded genuine in her offer and it made John feel more like shit.

"You could just send a record in the mail... Hey, okay, I was an ass last time we spoke and I feel like shit for it. Can I buy you a drink as an apology?"

Kate was quiet for a few seconds and John held his breath the entire time, "Yea... a drink would be nice. Not as a date, though... right?"

"What? Of course not! You're too mean."

She laughs and John's heart didn't ache so much with guilt.

___

"Okay okay- Wait, you don't get Nikolai's contact info. For whatever weird reason you have, and then you tell your captain you do... then you run off after he says he wants to meet him?"

John sighs, taking a swig of his beer. Meeting in a pub felt appropriate. They were in Manchester since John didn't want to go back to Liverpool to have a drink with a foreign woman in his home town. He didn't want to hear anything from his family about anything he had going on in his life, work related or not... not that they would know it was work related.

"I am... an impulsive individual."

"Wow, big words there."

John glares and Laswell sips her whisky with a smirk. He did like her, she wasn't afraid to say her mind but also not too much. People were either too nice or too blunt, not enough had the right amount of either.

"Look, maybe I was nervous about being able to contact Mr. Chimera whenever."

"Well, Mr. Chimera doesn't just give out info like that, John. He trusted you to have it."

John nods, staring at the chips he ordered, now a bit cold and hard. He still grabs one and takes a bite, glaring at the tray. He felt like a fool, letting old wounds hurt the way they did.

"I really am sorry for how I acted."

"I was pushing it. You were right, we don't know each other well enough to have personal conversations like that."

"I didn't exactly have a emotionally safe upbringing. That has never been a safe topic, Kate."

"I understand that. I really do."

They drank in silence, John munching on his cold chips. Kate finished her glass, sighing for a moment at the last drop. The silence was a bit awkward but therapeutic in a way, there was an understanding there that was a bit overwhelming but it was needed. John did want to get to know Kate, trust her enough to have a conversation like that. A conversation he's never dared to have with anyone.

"So... you want Nikolai's contact info."

"For my capt'n, really."

"Sure... Look, as far as he knows, you rejected his info. It will stir things up if an unknown individual, or someone claiming to be someone he worked with, contacting him about wanting to meet up."

"Who will trust that?"

"Exactly. So, you're going to have to go to Russia with me and you're going to serenade that man into getting him to help you out."

John snorts, "What, want me to bring a guitar?"

"Learn some Russian, too, it'll convince him to be nice after that rejection."

John snorts, face warm but he couldn't tell if it was from the beer or the implications of their conversation. It easily could sound like they were having a very different conversation. It also made John tense, someone could overhear and make that mistake. He wasn't willing to get into another fight over that.

"Let's get some air."

"Alright, I'll call a taxi to meet us. Does your captain even know where you went?"

"No."

"You really need to tell that man where you're going."

"He'll live. It's not like he's my father."

"No, he's only the man who got you a job, put a roof over your head and food on your table."

"Fine, I'll send him a postcard when we get to St. Petersburg."

Kate snorts before she stands to go make a call. John finishes he beer before he gets up, anxiety tightening his chest, not giving him a moment's rest from the guilt he had before.

___

"They moved shop."

"Of course, they play a dangerous game. Can't stay idle."

John still felt exposed even though they weren't here to steal intel. He was nervous and the chill in the air wasn't helping him keep his composure. They had gotten a hotel room, Kate leaving to drop a letter off. She was informed the first time where Chimera would be, this time they had to wait for Chimera to find them.

He was sitting on one of the beds, tapping his foot. He nabbed a postcard from the hotel's gift shop, deciding to writing a smart remark on it for Mac. He snickered to himself, he could only imagine the look on the man's face when he received this in the mail. Well, there was a chance it'll get to him before John came back. He hoped that was the case.

Kate reentered the room, huffing as she closed the door.

"Winter's coming, you can feel it."

"Lovely."

Kate takes off her jacket and throws it on a chair by the kitchenette before she flops onto the other bed.

"So, thought about what you're going to say to him?" John tenses and Kate rolls her eyes, "No plan? Again?"

"I'm thinking."

"Barely."

John glares and Kate gives him a quick, over exaggerated smile before she buries her face in a pillow. He huffs before laying the postcard on the night stand, laying back onto the bed to stare at the ceiling. What should he say to Nikolai? He didn't think about the benefit of having a man like him as a friend? That his captain wanted his contact? That John lied about already having Nikolai as a contact?

That he panicked when Nikolai offered to keep in touch and backed out without thinking? He was embarrassed, which was a feeling he was becoming rather accustomed to by this point. He was going to feel it even more when - if he got to meet Nikolai again. Looking him in the eye to apologize? He could imagine a thousand ways it could blowup in his face. He could even risk Kate's relationship with the man.

He had to think of a damn good apology or he'll make a fool out of both of them.

"Get some shut eye, John, I can hear you thinking from here. Nikolai's men check drop off points every few hours, we have time for a nap."

John nods even though he knows Kate wasn't looking. He kicks off his shoes and climbs further onto the bed, a nap didn't sound too bad. Maybe his head will be clearer afterwards, allowing him to think of what he was going to say if Nikolai allows them to meet. John somehow allows himself to drift off, hoping for a little rest.

There was a knock that caused John to wake, jumping up to an alert position. Kate was up just as fast, both of them sharing a look before Kate got off her bed and eased over to the door. She peered out of the peephole and after she knocks on the door in a pattern, another pattern is returned. Only when she relaxes does John, getting off his bed to out his shoes back on.

Kate opened the door and a man that John didn't recognize walked in, he was definitely Chimera.

"Agent, good to see you. Sergeant."

He spoke English well enough that John was sure he would've remembered interacting with him before. The man looked at John and back to Kate.

"He's surprised, I will not lie."

"Is he willing to meet?"

"He is. Neutral ground, I will take you."

John licked his lips, "Where is this neutral ground?"

The man looked at him and gave a small smile, "You'll see."

___

John felt underdressed, that wasn't an understatement. Kate felt it, too, judging by the way she adjusted her top. The restaurant was fancy, the atmosphere stirred some memories as they walked through. Their guide, Kamarov, didn't bother to warn them about the dress code. He himself wore a black dress shirt and pants, sleeves rolled up to show he tattooed forearms. John wondered if them not being told was on purpose, either by Nikolai's orders or Kamarov's own amusement.

They climbed some stairs to the second story, overseeing the main dining room. A host stopped them, Kamarov muttering a few words and then they were allowed into what was a private dining area. John saw Nikolai's men around the area, some people that didn't look like his people, maybe clientele or his own contacts. Nikolai, himself, was in a booth. John felt his mouth go dry with how the man was dressed and he was dressed very nicely.

He didn't look like a lowlife thug now, more like a proper business man. A man who's business was weapons.

He noticed them and smiled, waving his hand to the booth in front of him.

"Kate, please sit. And you-" John stiffened, Nikolai's voice lowering, "-you can sit next to me."

Kate fought to keep her face neutral, sliding into the booth in front Nikolai. John stood there for a second, Nikolai sliding over to allow him space, arm stretched over the seat's back. Kate was biting her cheek, staring at him. Any plan John had put together on the drive over practically fizzled into nothing as he sat beside Nikolai, trying to make himself as small as possible. He could feel the man's body heat and it lit goosebumps up his side. If he made it out of this alive Kate was never going to let this go.

"So, sergeant, I was informed we're here because of you. That you wanted to meet."

The deep rumble of Nikolai's voice was hitting every nerve John had, he couldn't think with this close proximity.

"Yes, he wanted to talk."

Nikolai looked to Kate fondly, "Go order yourself something nice to eat. Or drink! Bar over there has practically anything you can think of. All of it on the house."

John looked at Kate pleadingly but she showed no mercy. John watched her leave eagerly, all but skipping to the bar. He couldn't blame her, free food and liquor? He, too, would be off to take advantage of that if he didn't feel magnetized where he sat. He blamed it on Nikolai's... everything.

"Ah, now. You wanted to talk, да?"

John nodded and Nikolai chuckled, "I don't bite. Ha, I almost don't recognize you. The man who stole my cigarette and threw a grenade onto a busy road to save our tail. Busted into a private government facility and stole valuable data."

He took his time taking out a cigarette as he spoke, John watching out of the corner of his eye. He brought it to his lips and John looked away. He looked around, at the decor, the chandelier of crystal that hung over the main dining room. The food and drinks here were undeniable expensive.

"When you asked me to buy you dinner, you could've picked a cheaper place. My pockets aren't exactly deep."

Nikolai laughed John flushing. He leaned over, smoke on his breath and his cologne, mixing into a scent that John couldn't stop breathing in.

"You're right, when you're buying you're picking. Tonight is my treat."

John wanted to die. The silence was sickening and John knew he had to fess up why he was there.

"I may have rejected your offer too quickly..."

Nikolai looks at him, expression unreadable.

"You wanted my contact?"

"Yes."

"Yet you said no."

He panicked, that was the truth. And he couldn't even think of the man's possible reaction to telling him that. He needed to find a way to regain control, he was making a fool of himself at the moment. John looked to the cigarette trapped between the man's lips and, without further thinking, he plucked it away and placed it between his own.

Nikolai's eyes widened and John felt control weigh in his favor.

"I changed my mind. Think I have use for you."

Nikolai stared at him hard as John took a long drag, he could practically see the gears turning. For once, the man was speechless. And the best part? The man turned away to clear his throat, hiding his face long enough for John to no longer feel out of his element. It wasn't the setting, it was Nikolai. The man made him feel out of the loop, and now he finally felt like he had something over him.

Nikolai finally turns back to him, snickering, "Oh, I can tell that we're going to be good friends."

"If you stay useful, we can be the best of friends."

Nikolai grinned wider and John knew he had it. Victory. Kate won't believe him.

"You said food and drinks were on the house? Well, excuse me while I go eat myself into a coma."

John took the cigarette from his lips and handed it back to Nikolai, the man numbly taking it while watching him as if he was almost hypnotized. John quickly left the booth before he ruined anything and calmly made his way to Kate. She, surprisingly, hadn't been watching them the entire time. Instead she was nursing what had to be a glass a wine worth more than John's flat with a bowl of pasta.

"John, I'm taking a box home."

"Do they even have boxes here?"

"I'll take a pot then."

John snorts and sits next to her.

___

"You're taking him to meet your captain now, right? Already? Wow, that's a big step."

John turned to Kate who immediately busted into laughter, clearly she thought she was hilarious. John glares, pointing his fork at her to show that he was serious.

"I need to rope him in while he's still impressed by me. Plus, I need to cool Mac's engine before he bursts into flames."

"Right, because you lied about-"

"I have it," John hissed, "And now I'm going to use it."

Kate hummed, sipping her fancy wine. She was on her second bowl of pasta and John was thinking of getting another order of lamb. The food, admittedly, was delicious and the portions weren't outrageous, but they certainly weren't enough for the two of them.

"Ya know he's been staring at you, right?"

John didn't need to look to believe her, he could feel Nikolai's gaze upon his back. He had half expected the man to eventually join them but he had remained in his booth, now with his man Kamarov sitting across from them. He was trying to talk business but he wasn't looking like he was, he was watching so intently. John almost wanted to turn around and look right at him, wondering if Nikolai would try to look like he wasn't staring.

Kate turned in her seat, appearing as though she was going to look behind her. And just like that Nikolai looked away. He was staring but he didn't want to be caught. Man had to know he wasn't being subtle.

"John, I think he likes you."

"He does, he told me himself."

She grins, "Really? Then why are you over here and not talking him up?"

John swallowed hard, the way she said that made him pause.

"Can't show too much interest..."

"John..."

"He's intimidating, okay?"

She snorts and John knows she had enough wine for the evening. She leans over and rests her head on his shoulder, making him decide they should wrap this up.

"It's for work, Kate. Get you a takeaway box, we need to call it a night."

Kate whines but makes no further protest, finishing her latest and last glass of wine. John stands and walks over to Nikolai, the man almost sitting up straighter as he approached. John looked to Kamarov who blinked, quietly looking to Nikolai before he dismissed himself and left the booth. John sat across from Nikolai once the man was, the two staring at each other for a moment before speaking.

"Think I need to leave this get together. Got a postcard that needs sent to the UK."

Nikolai leans forward, "Leaving so soon? And we didn't get to have much quality time."

John represses a shudder as Nikolai folds his arms over the table. He felt like Nikolai was trying to regain lead of the situation, and John felt he had to fight to keep it. He leans back against the seat, keeping eye contact with Nikolai as he did.

"Quality time? Have to earn that."

Nikolai grins, he liked John talking back, "By being useful? I can be very useful."

I want to launch into the fucking sun.

"I can give you a tip on how to do that; Meet with my captain. Make friends with him and we can have some more quality time."

Nikolai looked him up and down, he looked mad with glee.

"I'll give you my number. I'll be wherever you want me to be."

"Good, already being useful."

Nikolai offered a card and John took it. He debated on nagging for a cigarette but he didn't want to push his luck. So he left with the card, going to collect Laswell and her box of pasta before they left the private dining area.

"Ya know, John. I don't know how you still feel about me but... that looked like flirting to me."

John felt his face get hot, "You're drunk."

Kate smiled, it was gentle, "Sure."

___

Kate was supposed to head out on another flight but she chose to stick around for a week. Why? She wouldn't directly tell him, just danced around the question with partial truths. John knew she stayed to hear whatever drama was going to happen with Mac. They had purposely delayed returning to the UK, giving enough time for John's express shipped postcard to land on Mac's desk.

She acted like she had nowhere else better to be, which left John wondering if whatever mess he had gotten himself into was really that entertaining.

"I would ask how you know where I live but I'd waste my breath."

"You're always wasting your breath."

They had bonded, he will say that. He liked Kate. She was funny, smart, and seemed to know how he thought like it was her own mind. Maybe he was just being dumb and too easy to read, maybe they were a lot alike. Either way, John was starting to consider an actual friend, someone he could trust. Well, he was hoping he could trust her. It never hurt to have genuine friends in this line of work.

They had went to John's flat after they landed, John planning on giving Mac a call to give the run down of everything (and to hear feedback about the postcard), and Kate decided to join him. She met Mac once, briefly, in an attempt to scope him out, which led to her going to John. Which led to the whole situation with Nikolai. To put it simply; Everything was her fault.

"Wow, that's a lot of records. And tapes."

"I like music."

"Maybe try to like organizing, too?"

"It's organized! I know where everything is and where it goes, unlike your untrained eye."

He had a system, Mac knew it and so did the rest of his team. It was messy in appearance but it worked. When John was able to get less heat from messes he took it. Maybe with age he'll go back to keeping things clean.

John had settled on his couch. It was old, pre-owned when he got it, but it has given him the best damn naps. He flopped down on the pillow he had left there from his last nap and sighed loudly. Kate snorted before she sat on the end that he wasn't occupying, relaxing against the couch and maybe, too, experiencing the magic the old thing possessed deep within its seams.

"When are you-"

"Sh sh- No work talk. Not yet," his voice was muffled by the pillow which made Kate laugh. She agreed silently, allowing him to lay there for several minutes before he decided to move.

Time to call Mac.

"I bet he's left voicemails. He always does."

"Ah, dads. They have such delightful things to say."

John mocked her under his breath, gaining a heatless glare. He climbed off the couch with great effort before he went to his landline. He had three messages, surprisingly. Two from Mac, and one from Sikes. Mac gave him the same talk about him running off, about him playing dangerous games. God, he really did sound like his father. Well, not his actual father, Mac was more caring.

Sikes just left a message about the postcard being a work of art. That's what John was looking forward to. After thoroughly enjoying Sikes' voicemail, John dialed Mac. He called his office phone specifically, for the added flair of his audacity.

"Sergeant Jonathan Price-"

"I come bearing gifts!"

"Like the postcard?"

"Better, even though that was fantastic work on my part."

Mac chuckles, if John didn't have stubborn residency in his soft spot then he would've been dead by now. Mac shifted on the other side, John hearing someone knock and Mac telling them to give him a minute. He better deliver his gift quick.

"Mr. Chimera is willing to meet."

"Mr. Chimera? Nikolai?"

"The very same."

Mac laughs, "You left to get his contact! And you succeeded!"

"I-"

"Don't lie. I know you, lad, better than anyone."

John looks to Kate who was still on his couch, relaxed and combating jetlag, "Keep telling yourself that. Wanna meet him or not?"

"If you can get that myth into the SAS's backyard then you're getting a raise."

"Promise? I have a witness of it!"

"Don't push it."

"Fine fine- When and where? Up to you, old man."

Kate looked over, thoroughly amused. John grinned at her and she snickered.

"Meeting the parents," She said, just loud enough for him to hear. John made a famously rude gesture towards her, earning another laugh.

John felt proud. His second contact, Kate being his first. He could foresee some chaos, enjoyable chaos and grand victories. Hopefully Mac could see it, too.

___

He was watching the clock obsessively, he knew this. Nikolai had sent him a email stating when he would be arriving and at what airport. John had sent a reply confirming he got the email and that was that. Silence.

He didn't like the silence.

"A watched pot won't boil, John."

John waved Kate off at her comment, he had at least an hour before he had to leave. He wanted to meet Nikolai there. Mac had tried to get him to use their airfield but Nikolai refused. John wondered why, wondered if Nikolai had doubts of meeting an SAS captain. He was pushing off the meeting by purposely using a civilian airline.

"He could've been here by now," John muttered under his breath, "I have to drive fucking thirty minutes to the airport and then twenty to the base."

Kate snorts, "That's my Sunday drive."

John glares at her and she just smiles. The last two hours she was waiting with him, wondering. And now all the sudden she's grinning like she knows something. John glared at her for this, hoping she would reveal what she knew to him without him having to ask or beg.

For once, that worked. Or Kate wanted to talk about it judging by how she eagerly pulled the chair out from the front of his desk and sat, leaning over the desk.

"He wants some extra time with you."

John blinked, staring at her before he blurted out "No he doesn't."

She laughs, "Yes he does! Why else would he pick an airport that you have to go out of your way to go to? Why else would he only tell you and not any one else on your team?"

John stared at her before he dropped his head to the desk. He can't keep doing this, racing after his own heart. He heard Kate laugh as he laid there, felt her pat the back of his head. She found his inability to be on the same page as his emotions hilarious.

"That bastard."

"Guess he's getting his quality time."

John sat up, "Bastard."

She snorts, "You have to keep playing his game to win, John. Can't just play for a moment then revert back to this."

She motions to him, John huffing. She was right, he had to keep playing Nikolai's game and not back out. John stares at Kate and she stops giggling, blinking when his own grin forms.

"Hey, Kate-"

"Nope! Not getting in the middle of whatever this is."

"You have been involved day one. You can't back out."

Kate groans but John could tell she was amused by it all. She was going to help him win this game, make Nikolai squirm and play harder.

"Fine! But I'm taking a personal car."

"... whose car?"

"... Know where your captain keeps his keys?"

Oh this was becoming more fun by the second. Clearly she wanted to see how far he was willing to go for this and John aimed to impress.

"Wait out front."

"Oh you're insane."

Kate turned to leave, and before she reached the door John had an wonderful idea. He dug in a door in his desk, finding exactly what he wanted within seconds.

"Wait! One more thing."

Kate turned and rolled her eyes at the sight, "John no-"

John held out the disposable camera urgently, "This is serious. I need you to take a picture of his face when he realizes that I'm not there."

"John-"

"I'm winning this game, Kate."

Kate grinned and took the camera, "Fine."

Oh he couldn't wait to get the film processed. But that would have to wait, he had car keys to steal and had to prepare to mediate a meeting between an SAS officer and an arms dealer. He was sure the captain would play nice. But Nikolai? He wasn't completely confident on that.

___

Mac was sitting across from him, staring at him with a cross of amusement, exhaustion, and a hint of nervousness. He was bouncing his knee, had been moments after they had settled in their seats. Sikes was just amused, humming as he wrote something down on his notepad. John had been checking the clock regularly, Kate should be back with Nikolai by now. He was sure she would've called if something came up, Mac's car had a phone.

"John."

John looked to Mac who was still staring at him. Has he blinked? John can't remember seeing him blink.

"Yes, sir?"

"Why's my car not in the lot?"

John blinked innocently, looking out the window behind him to the car lot, "What you mean? Didn't you park in the garage today?"

"John."

"Heard it was gonna rain."

"Jonathan-"

"Know you're touchy about that car and the rain."

Sikes was watching them with great joy and amusement. John knows their bickering was the highlight of his job.

Mac's face dropped with shock and anger as his precious car pulled into a spot, his spot, and Kate got out. No Nikolai, which made John anxious. He couldn't even focus on Mac getting pissed over the car, just that he didn't see Nikolai.

Did Nikolai not appreciate him not showing up to get him? Did something came up? No, Kate would've told him if as soon as there was an issue. Where was Nikolai, then?

"Sergeant, your friend's here."

John whips his head around, from window to Sikes' smirking face. The door opened and Nikolai walked in with Sergeant Banks, dressed much more casual than when he last saw him. He looked like a civilian, not an arms dealer, and John could tell Mac was thinking just that. But he couldn't get past the relief he felt when he saw Nikolai. He came, he didn't back out.

"Ah, Sergeant Price!" Nikolai greeted eagerly with a grin, that grin crushing any doubts John had remaining.

John stands as does Mac. He was trying to take in everything that was Nikolai. First impressions were big for him and Nikolai wasn't checking any boxes off just yet. But he will, John knew he would.

"Nikolai, have a good flight?"

John was aiming for generally politeness but Nikolai wasn't willing to behave, "Of course. Shame you weren't the one to get me. I was looking forward to some quality time."

The rumble in his voice made John shudder and Mac and Sikes whipped their heads around to stare at him. Oh, he definitely didn't like him not picking him up. Nikolai smiled, pleased with the reactions he had gotten, only then did he finally turn towards Mac and Sikes.

"Captain MacMillan, and Lieutenant White, is it? A pleasure."

Mac took Nikolai's hand in a firm handshake, staring into almost into his skull as he did, gripping his hand tight. Sikes was less aggressive, didn't feel the need to put Nikolai in his place with a handshake.

"Mr. Chimera, is it?"

Nikolai grins, eyes flickering to John before he nods, "Indeed. I hadn't considered working with SAS, but the sergeant left an impression."

Mac turns to John, "Did he now?"

John swallows, he couldn't read Mac's expression.

That's new.

"Well, we'll talk about the sergeant later. Business, that's what you want, да?"

Mac nodded, "Yea... let's see if you deliver."

Oh Kate was going to get an earful later as he surely was from Mac. If he survives until then. Mac and Nikolai appeared to be sizing each other up, not letting up on their need to be on top. Sikes noticed and John wondered if he would be able to keep Mac playing nice this time.

I should keep notes on what to yell at her later...

___

"All of this is your fault. All of it."

Kate stared at him, "And what exactly is my fault?"

She wanted him to say it, to admit it. But those words won't come out and John was left frustrated. He knows what he was feeling, clearly she knew, too. So why couldn't he say it? Years of conditioning from his father? Seeing the judgement he passed to those who he deemed worth less than dirt, undeserving of basic human kindness. Those years of fear of it being directed at him.

The man wasn't here, he didn't have control anymore. But his claws were still there, and John couldn't admit what he wanted to say. Thankfully, Kate was understanding. She was patient, more than what he deserved. Was it obvious what he was struggling with? How many others knew?

No one, just her. Someone would've said something by now, right? Mac would've, and Sikes... right?

He didn't have the energy for this. There wasn't any rulebook to follow, he didn't know anyone going through this or had been through it. He felt alone... no, there was Kate, he wasn't alone.

"I've been taught that feelings like this are wrong."

Kate nodded, John sitting next to her on the couch. They had commandeered a lounge for themselves when Mac and Nikolai came to an agreement, John and Sikes being asked to leave so they could talk one-on-one. John needed a moment to step away anyway, to complain to Kate, to vent. She was so patient, understanding. Why? She picked something up not long after they met.

"I know. I was, too."

John looked to her and when she met his eye everything finally clicked.

"Oh."

She smiled, gentle teasing because she knew he didn't need any harshness at the moment, "There you go, using your brain."

"I... when did you-?"

"When did I-?"

"When did you know. How did you know?"

Kate shrugs, "Think around high school. There was this girl that sat next to me in math and... she was all I ever cared about in that class. Loved talking to her, we would help each other when we were stuck."

Kate talked with an endearing smile, enjoying every memory she spoke of. It made John's heart beat faster, thinking to Nikolai as she talked. Then, she stopped smiling, a frown replacing it.

"She... didn't feel the same. I worked up the courage to tell her, thought she was safe."

She said nothing more and John leaned over, shoulder pressing against hers. She leaned against him, dwelling in that memory. Finally she shook her head and looked to him.

"I've moved on, found a place for me. It can be hard but it's freeing being honest with yourself. And it feels so good to have people around you who understand."

Maybe she was eager in the beginning, when she had noticed that about John. Wanted a friend in their field of work, someone with the same kind of stress surrounding them. Someone who understood more than work. She moved too quickly, but John was willing now. He saw her perspective now and felt so thankful she was there, someone who knew these things.

"Typically people don't judge too hard when you know how to use a gun," Kate mused and John grinned when he heard it.

"When you have a body count they tend to play nicer."

She grins back, nodding. John could feel it, this was a defining moment. Kate Laswell, a friend for life. For however long that was, John knew they would be friends. Trouble, they were trouble, and he was glad to have met her. It was her fault but he was thankful for it.

___

Kate and John sat quietly next to each other as Mac discussed the routes the ultranationalists were taking. Nikolai was sitting across from John, watching Mac from over his shoulder. John was trying to stay focused but he kept looking to Nikolai, finding himself observing the man. He had soft features, scars cutting through his hair that was slowly growing back. His eyes were dark, a deep brown that held a warmth that you had to search for or otherwise they appeared cold like black ink.

He was fit, pushing his limits. John noticed he didn't eat a lot but smoked whenever and drank more than having decent meals. John wondered what he would look like healthy, not living on cigarettes and meals from the corner store. If he allowed himself to not push himself, allowed himself to cut back and enjoy life. John had witnessed how Nikolai was always looking over his shoulder, he fidgeted quiet a bit like he was never at ease. Why did he come alone if he was uncomfortable?

Nikolai's eyes flickered to him and John forced himself to focus on Mac. He caught a small smile on Nikolai's face from the corner of his eye, it wasn't smug but soft. John focused on Mac, looked at him and his presentation only, but his mind wandered to Nikolai.

___

"This can end so badly," John muttered. His heart was beating so fast that he thought it was just pop. He was wondering how he let her talk him into this.

"You trust me, don't you?"

He was hesitant to agree but he was nodding before he even realized.

"Mr. Chimera will be heading back to Russia tomorrow. Unless you want to wait out the season or go and endure it, now is your chance."

Tell him. Tell him everything.

Nikolai was heading back, he's done with working with Mac. He got two convoys of barely legal guns and dropped them in Mac's personal hanger. Now he was heading home, and John didn’t know when he'd be able to see him again. So Kate convinced him to talk to him about his feelings. John was thinking about swallowing them whole at the moment.

"Kate..."

"It'll be fine!"

He wasn't sure. John can't remember ever being this nervous over something before. Not when he was on a mission, bullets flying and hope scarce to find. No, this was the moment he felt so anxious that he thought he was going to be sick. They were currently waiting outside, waiting for Mac and Nikolai to walk out and leave for the airport. Kate planned to for to grab Mac's attention so John could talk to Nikolai.

He wasn't sure he could do it, if he could follow through. He couldn't imagine how Nikolai would react, how he would deal with rejection. He's flirted with girls before with little care with they reciprocated. But John cares so much right now, he wanted Nikolai to accept his affections. But Nikolai didn't come off as that type. John didn't want to ruin whatever strange friendship they had with his stupid human emotions.

And what about Mac? He would surely learn about it all if Nikolai reacted poorly. Would he, too, react poorly? Not care for John's interest in men? The thought itself made John's knees weak. He couldn't do this.

"Kate, I can't-"

She noticed the look on his face, he was feeling light-headed.

"Shit- Sit down, you look pale."

John pressed his back against the brick wall they hid behind and slid down to the ground. Kate got on the ground with him, worried. Was he panicking? Was this a panic attack? It's been so long since he had one he couldn't even recognize it. He was so terrified of rejection to the point he was struggling to breathe.

"John- Breathe with me."

"He'd hate me."

"No he wouldn't."

"How do you know? You know him as well as I do."

Kate said nothing else, just squeezed John's hand. It took him several minutes to breathe. Just resting against the wall with his eyes closed, trying to think of anything other than Nikolai.

In the end, John couldn't face Nikolai. He watched from the bushes as him and Mac left for the airport. Kate had a look on her face, guilt. Maybe she wanted John to have a different ending than her. He didn't blame her for pushing him, who could have predicted this?

"I need a drink."

"That doesn't sound bad... if you're paying."

Kate snickers, "Sure. I'll help your poor ass out."

It was easier to just not think about Nikolai, it didn't hurt as much that way.

___

"She's amazing, John. You'd murder for her cooking."

Annie, Annie, Annie - That's the name Kate couldn't stop saying. She called often, for business and personal reasons. Currently she called to talk about the receptionist who she was practically stalking at work. She's denied her crush, John tried to play nice but she was making teasing her way too easy.

"Kate, ya know I'm working, right?"

"Oh, I can call later."

"You sound like you're going to explode if you don't talk now," John muttered, eying Sikes from the corner of his eye as he wrote on the docs before him. The man already smacked him over distracting himself with a paperclip, he may kill him for a phone call if he noticed. Sikes left the room and John sighed, relaxing as he spoke more clearly, "We're on for capture or kill."

"Bringing friends in?"

"Can't say too much... just that I might have to see..."

He hadn't spoken to Nikolai for almost a year. He felt guilt for it because that's the opposite of what he wanted. John wanted to talk to him, wished he could've said something before he left for the airport, but he was a coward. That damn fear spiked up in his chest at the thought of it, so he tried to stop it all together. He tried not to bring up the man, even as Mac worked with Chimera more and more. He was shocked the old man didn't say much considering John introduced them.

Maybe he knew more than what John was giving him credit for, making a conscious decision to leave Nikolai's name out of the conversation. Despite the desire to talk about him, oh did John want to talk. Only Kate knew everything, John wanted to reach out to Mac, to trust him. But that fear was still there, the fear of harsh rejection. He felt weak in the knees every time he thought about opening up to Mac, so he didn't bother.

"I'll call later. I'll have a list."

John snorts, "You do that."

He ended the call and sighed, Sikes reentering the room. He quickly noticed John's lack of work and walked over to him.

"Didn't smack you too hard, huh?"

John grunts, "Been over this shit three separate times, LT."

"There's too many ways this can go wrong, John. We need to be ready. Though Chimera will be with us, so hopefully everything will go in our favor."

Sikes sat across from him with a groan. He was getting old, had more wrinkles around his eyes and grey in his hair than what John remembered.

"Capt'n's got this, LT."

"I hope he does."

Uncertainty, Sikes wasn't known for that.

John stretched in his seat, hanging his arm over the back of his chair, "Where's my harmonica? I think you need a tune."

Sikes glares at him and John grins, "You're lucky the cap doesn't let me throw that thing into the ocean."

"My dear Bess? How could you?"

Sikes laughs and John feels victorious. There was a moment of peaceful silence before Sikes sighs, not directly looking at John.

"Mac's gettin' old... so am I. Not sure how much of this game we got left in us."

John fidgets, "Not that old."

"Feel older than we look, John."

John didn't say anything as he watched Sikes. He didn't like this, the way the man sat there with almost an empty look in his eye. John felt... afraid. Sikes had been there since the beginning, right alongside Mac. The thought of him just retiring or worse made John's heart ache. But retirement was better than the alternatives, there wasn't many better ones than that.

"Don't have Mac's crown in mind?" John attempted to joke despite his tone not caring his words as such.

"No, I think after this I'll go home. My last hurrah."

"Well, I'll bake you a cake."

Sikes smiles slightly, "Wouldn't mind that... not one bit."

"You're basic, right? Chocolate?"

"Tuxedo."

"Oh. Not basic. Not sure if I want to break my back for you."

"Not even for my retirement party?"

"You're not retiring. Cap will drag you back kicking and screaming."

Sikes laughs, "That's how he got me in this mess to begin with!"

John smiles, Sikes wasn't actually going to leave... right? He couldn't just leave, what would Bravo Team be without him? Without their lieutenant or captain? It wasn't happening.

"You make a face when you're thinking, ya know that? That's how I know you're never using your head when it matters."

John glares and Sikes shrugs. They say nothing for a moment, nothing on pending departure or the mission ahead. It didn't feel real.

___

He knew Chimera would be joining them, he just didn't expect them to join this soon. John felt as though he had no time to prepare, stopping in his tracks as he heard voices speaking a foreign language in the hanger. He was a coward, John was in touch with himself enough to know that. He saw Chimera's logo and almost launched himself into another panic attack, diving into a supply closet in the hanger to give himself a moment to breathe.

His heart was racing as he heard Russian outside in the hanger. It was childish, hiding like this. But he's always been a child, running from his emotions rather than facing them. He would've left the closet and ran at the first opportunity if Mac didn't sniff him out. He opened the closet and stared at John with a blank expression, maybe some disapprovement in his eyes.

"John..."

"I-"

"No more excuses, I'm tired of you acting like this," Mac growled as he grabbed John's collar and practically threw him out of the closet.

John stopped himself before he hit a truck, turning to yell at Mac but the man grabbed him and started dragging him through the hanger. John wanted to disappear when several of Nikolai's men turned their heads to stare as Captain MacMillan dragged his very own Sergeant Price by the collar like he was a kitten needing to be held by the scruff. It was humiliating.

Mac pushed him into the office in the back of the hanger, not so gently closing the door behind him as he stepped inside. John tried to get a word out but Mac silenced him with a glare. John chose to sit in the nearest chair as a response, which proved to be the smart move. Mac groaned, pinching his nose before he sits on the desk, staring down at John with an exasperated expression.

"Lad, what are you doing?"

"I was just checking-"

"Not about the closet. Well, not just the closet. Jonathan, you haven't been yourself for months. Skittish, quiet. Who is this?"

Mac motioned to all of John and John huffed, "That's a first. Thought you said I could do to learn how to be quiet."

Mac stares, unamused, "This is about Nikolai."

John chokes, "Nik- No! Of course it's not! He's been great! Look at all we've managed to accomplish-"

"When's the last time you talked to him?"

John avoided looking at Mac, "Been a minute..."

"He told me he hasn't gotten a word out of you for four months. John, he's been trying to talk to you for four months."

Shame and guilt squeezed his heart, John now being able to look in Mac's direction even if he wanted to. He tried to keep Nikolai out of his mind and now he couldn't stop thinking about him. Thinking about how the man felt with he didn't answer his calls, when he went out of his way to avoid running into him. He was childish and cowardly, a pathetic combination.

"Lad, you like him."

"He's pretty cool, I mean- He's self made-"

Mac grunts, "Jonathan. You like him. I know you do."

John felt his heart drop, gripping the edge of the chair to the point his fingers ached. He couldn't look up at Mac, panic setting in as his mind started racing. Of course he knew, why wouldn't he? It was like Mac sensed his panic and got down in front of him, grabbing his knee to get his attention.

"John, there's nothing wrong with how you feel about him. I know you grew up being taught otherwise."

Mac has always been there, a driving force that kept John where he wanted to be. His father had tried everything he could to get him discharged, force him to come back. Mac got in the way, got him into the SAS and far away from his father and family's reach. John wasn't sure why he thought he could put Mac in the same light as them. He wasn't like them, didn't think like them.

John swallowed, "You know?"

"Yea, I do, lad. Knew plenty men like yourself. It doesn't affect your ability to shoot, to hold a gun, or how to run your mouth."

John laughed and Mac firmly patted his thigh before standing, John able to look at him now.

"Ya know, avoiding people isn't a good way to make friends, or for romance."

"Is this your approval?"

Mac laughs, "Approval? Tolerance. You can do better."

John grins, "Thought you liked him."

"I do. On a professional basis. I'd skin him alive and make a lamp."

Mac turns from him as John laughs, opening the office door. Chimera had returned to its normal chatter, uncaring for whatever occurred with Mac and John.

"He's flying in tonight. Has a bird, did you know that?"

"He flies?"

"Behave. I'll rough him up if he's nasty."

"Mac-"

The man doesn't stick around for John to get another word out, walking away from the office with determination. John watched a few Russians visibly step away from him as he marched past, unable to not think about Mac giving Nikolai a piece of his mind.

Nikolai... I need to make things right.

Mac was right, you can't make friends through avoidance. And friendship is where everything starts.

___

An unfamiliar bird over base is a good way to make everyone uneasy. It was a beautiful thing, Russian make, and definitely stolen. Nikolai owned it, and landed it with grace and experience. Watching him get out of the helo, more scruff than when John last saw him, made John almost lose his confidence.

He wasn't going to run away again.

John walked up, heart racing but he wasn't backing down. Nikolai looked genuinely surprised to see him, doing a double take to make sure he actually saw him approaching. He looked John up and down, blinking in surprise. He wasn't as welcoming, as relaxed. If John didn't know any better, he would think the man was nervous.

"Didn't know you knew how to fly," John said in an attempt to break the silence. Nikolai didn't immediately respond, probably wondering where John got the audacity. Well, he's always had it, as Sikes has said before.

"Of course I know how to fly. But you wouldn't know that, now would you?"

John steels himself, "Yea, I wouldn't. That's my mistake."

Nikolai stared at him in uneasy silence. John noticed some of his men approach rather cautious, one he recognized to be Kamarov. He looked between them, lingering on Nikolai like he was waiting for some kind of command of how to proceed. Nikolai just stared at John, face neutral like he was trying to get a rad on him.

Finally, he turned from John to face Kamarov, speaking to him in Russian. Kamarov nodded, John wondering what was said as the man walked away. After a second he realized that Nikolai was giving him a small moment to say something, anything that would make him think that repairing whatever they had was worthwhile.

John hadn't expected to get this far, maybe he did have a chance.

"I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner. My treat."

Nikolai softened, "Dinner?"

"Nothing fancy. Wouldn't get your expectations up... if you want to, that is."

Nikolai huffed, "Depends. Where would you be taking me?"

John stared, Nikolai waiting. He shuffled away, looking at his feet.

"I didn't think that far ahead."

Nikolai laughs, John feeling warmth spread throughout his chest.

"Alright."

"Alright?"

"Buy me dinner."

John couldn't stop the grin, Nikolai smiling at him. He stepped away nodding, Nikolai chuckling when he bumps into the helo. Feeling his face heat up, John turned and quickly walked away, hearing Nikolai's laugh follow him.

___

"It's just a dinner. Just a dinner."

"John, you successfully asked that man out after avoiding him for months. The fact he's giving you this means it's not just dinner."

Oh, leave it to Kate to get his heart racing after he just managed to calm down.

"God... I'm fucked."

"If you're lucky."

"Kate," John hissed, hearing the woman laugh in response. At least someone was enjoying this, he was just anxious all around.

It was instinctual to call her, even hours before he was initially supposed to go out and meet Nikolai. He needed to tell someone who already knew the majority of the story. It was amazing knowing Mac supported him but the man was too eager to threaten to jump Nikolai if things didn't go well. At least Kate wasn't out right threatening him.

"A small, locally owned diner. You've been there plenty of times, the food is good and the atmosphere is great. You got this."

"Oh, you're being nice. I'm doomed."

He had get off soon to get ready, he had been watching the clock for the past ten minutes. He was supposed to pick up Nikolai, show him around town. God this felt like a date. A real date. He didn't want to fuck this up, not again. Nikolai didn't deserve that kind of disrespect. John certainly wouldn't survive it.

"I got expectations to meet."

"I'm sure they're low enough for you to manage."

John groaned, "Kate please. Am I supposed to get him in my car? It's shit, you know that!"

"Use Mac's."

"You already got him in it! He knows it's not mine!"

Kate was giggling, "Take Sikes' then."

John blinks as he thinks about it, staring at the clock before he goes to stand, "Kate I gotta go. I'll call you afterwards if I'm still alive."

"Good luck. Hope you're real lucky."

John groaned before hanging up, hearing the tail end of Kate cackling before he put the phone down. He had ten minutes before he had to get Nikolai, ten minutes to either force himself to drive his car to borrow someone else's. Nikolai had money, he felt nothing but shame and nervousness thinking about driving his old, beat up car that has seen a better decade.

He could get Sikes' car, well, SUV. It was nice, nice enough to meet Nikolai's level. Sikes wouldn't be happy but John would happily give him a reminder what he was leaving he when thought about retirement. John grabbed his nicer jacket before he left his quarters, trying to calmly walk down the hall. He went straight to Sikes' office, pleasantly surprised to find it empty and his car keys left unguarded.

Without a second thought, John grabs them before writing a quick and cheeky note for Sikes to find. He wrote a rather confident message, hoping to make Sikes want to desensitize every damn inch of his SUV. A lasting memory, no matter where he goes he will have that SUV. John felt rather hilarious for it.

He walked down the hall, rhythmed breathing to help calm himself.

Grab the SUV, drive around to the hanger, pick up Nikolai, then drive out to get food. Simple.

Simple, it was simple. But that didn't mean it was easy.

John managed to get to the hanger but he didn't see Nikolai anywhere, not near his bird or with his men. John did arrive earlier than agreed upon, maybe caught Nikolai unexpected.

Or he's not coming. Wanted to give me a taste of my own medicine.

Once that thought entered his mind it would not leave. Mac always did he could get in his own head like no one else, his own worst enemy. Nikolai wouldn’t do that, would he? He seemed genuine when accepting John's invitation to dinner. Was it an act? Has he been played?

John's heart almost escaped through his throat as Kamarov knocks on the window, grinning when he noticed he caught him off guard. John groans and rolls down the window, Kamarov leaning against the SUV's door.

"He's getting pretty. Will be out in a moment."

John made a face, he wasn't sure which one but it made Kamarov laugh. The man walked away and said something to the other Chimera men, most of them joining him in laughter. John sighed as he leaned back against the seat, debating on whether or not he should get out and greet Nikolai when he finally leaves the hanger.

What did he tell his guys this was?

John felt his face flush, did Nikolai refer to this as a date?

John looked out of the corner of his eye and saw Nikolai.

Pretty indeed.

He moved quickly, uncoordinated, opening the door and trying to get out smoothly but his foot was caught in something, probably the door itself. John had ten seconds of what was the slowest fall of his life before he smacked against the ground, hard. And a chorus of Russian laughter howled in response. There wasn't a moment in existence where John wanted to spontaneously combust more than then.

He laid there, that probably is what made them laugh harder. Then silence as someone grabs his arm to help him up.

"Sergeant! Are you alright?"

Nikolai. Of course he did that where Nikolai could see him. John couldn't face the man as he hauled him off the ground all too easily. He finally had no choice to look at him when the man grabs his face and turns it, keeping an arm around him to keep him upright. Maybe it was the close proximity of Nikolai's face that made John to try to free himself. It would show that Nikolai didn’t have a grasp easily escaped.

"Be still. You're bleeding. Let me clean it up-" his tone had a very light bit of laughter in it, Nikolai showing more concern than amusement.

John kept trying to look away as Nikolai wrestled him to sit back in the car. This was already off to a bad start.

"I'm fine! Had worse."

"Your nose is-"

"Fine! I- Dinner."

Nikolai finally releases him, "It can wait a moment. Please let me clean your face."

John couldn't keep saying no, sighing as Nikolai turned and walked back to the hanger. Not a single one of his men laughed, choosing to go back to their previous work. He felt like he missed something while he was kissing the ground, they weren't daring to look in his direction now.

Nikolai returned with a first aid kit, John groaning. The place he wanted to take him didn't close until late so that wasn't a worry. But John found it impossible to be still and let Nikolai clean his face. The man was so gentle, holding his face with great care. John couldn’t look at him even though his face was so close to his, he just looked away before finally closing his eyes.

"Not so bad, looks like the ground didn't want to damage your beautiful face."

John's face lit on fire, the sergeant jerking his head free from Nikolai's face. He cleared his throat, Nikolai backing up with a small smile. John motioned to the other side of the SUV, staring mostly at the ground as he did.

"Dinner."

Nikolai laughs, "I apologize, I was too forward."

John's face was red, he knew it was. Nikolai showed him mercy by packing the first aid kit back up and tossing it to one of his men before he went around to the passenger side. John forced himself to get back in the driver's seat, face still hot as he thought about Nikolai's words and tenderness.

Oh he wasn't going to survive tonight.

___

“Congratulations, sergeant, you found the one place in this country that has decent food.”

It was an obvious prod, Nikolai trying to get a reaction. John glared at him and the man grinned, he was waiting for a more verbal response. But John wasn’t going to give it to him, instead he’d prod the man as well.

“You finally get your quality time and this is what you choose to do with it?”

Nikolai licked his lips, “Oh, I’d have better things in mind. For proper quality time, mind you. This is-”

He silently searched for the word, John watching him. He could practically hear it already, it was right there. Nikolai didn’t say it, just sighed.

“This is quality time. Base level.”

John snorts, “I can upgrade the level of quality time?”

“If you play nice... starting by answering my calls.”

John looked back to his food, shame pricking at his skin. Nikolai didn’t say anything else, poking at his slice of pie. It was an awkward silence, John deserved that.

He thought back to his relationship with Kate in the beginning. But he got past that moment of sourness. Could he move on with Nikolai? He gave him this chance, this moment to apologize. He deserved an apology, this man that John didn’t know all about but couldn’t stop thinking about for a second.

“Well, I am a coward. Good at taking people for granted, hurting people who don’t deserve it.”

“A coward? Not you,” Nikolai disagreed, “I fondly think back to when you first impressed me.”

A stolen cigarette, that’s what came to John’s mind upon Nikolai’s mention of that car chase.

"Cowards avoid things. Avoid talking to people they actually want to talk to," John muttered, he wasn't as hungry as he was moments ago.

Nikolai reached across the table and grabbed John's free hand, the man jerking up to look at him. There was understanding in Nikolai's eyes, it was like he understood what John was feeling on a deeper level than previously. There wasn't any words in that short moment, just a comfort and relief washing over him. He squeezed Nikolai's hands before letting go, the man sitting back on the other side of the table.

"It's not safe to be open in such a way, sergeant. I grew up in the system, never had a stable home life. I've seen people get killed over petty disagreements, let alone something they cannot help."

This was the first time John heard of this, out of everything he learned from Kate or hearing from Nikolai himself, this was something personal. He was letting him in, letting him get close, even after those months of silence. John knew he could never betray that trust, he'll never let his own fear get the better of him.

"I grew up rich."

Nikolai smiled, "Oh?"

"That first dinner you treated me and Kate to? That place was like going back home," John didn't want to share too much, while Nikolai opened up to him he didn't give too much information. John would do the same, match him.

"Had the finest silk sheets growing up, silver utensils all my life. Never been happier to get away from it."

Nikolai's smile was softer now, "I found people like me, even in our not so welcoming world. I didn't know stepping away from them in the end would be the best decision for me."

Cryptic messages, Nikolai was certainly sharing more than what he was used to. John didn't push for more, finally taking a bite of food (now colder than what he would've liked) and a drink of his watered down fizzy drink. They finished their plates in silence and John went to pay, but Nikolai wasn't going to let that happen in peace.

"Nikolai, put that wallet away."

"From riches to rags, I insist to cover this."

Oh that made John's eye twitch. He turned to the man who barely containing a gleeful grin, he was purposely prodding at him.

"I'm paying, Nik, and you're just going to have to let it happen. My treat, 'member?"

Nikolai grinned and finally allowed him to get out of the booth to pay. The waiter had been watching them this entire time, trying to act like he hadn't. John visited the diner enough to recognize a few of the staff, he didn't recognize this guy. At least the regular staff know not to stare at him.

When John returned to Nikolai so they could leave, the man was still grinning at him. John knew he was waiting for him to say something about it, so now John wasn't going to.

"Alright, let's get out of here."

"Hm? You are done with me already?"

"'Course not, got other things in mind."

Nikolai followed him outside, John was planning to just get in the car and leave, but Nikolai had other things planned.

"Where are you going?"

"A walks sounds lovely, no?"

John huffs out a short laugh as Nikolai walks out of the car park and into town. He had no choice but to follow him, he couldn't allow the man to get lost. There was a whole militia waiting for him to come back in one piece so John better deliver. He jogged to catch up to Nikolai, the man not slowing for a second as he ventured away from the diner.

"It feels lovely tonight."

"It's cold."

Nikolai looks at him, "Would you like to visit my home town?"

John hums, "Little earlier for that, isn't it? How long have we known each other?"

"That didn't stop you."

John glares and Nikolai laughs, sidestepping to avoid a swipe from him. Nikolai stepped back over after John stuffed his hands into his pockets.

"What was that you called me earlier?"

"I've called you many things in my head."

"Out loud. Nik, was it? Rather informal."

John flushes, "I-"

"I like it."

John chews on his lip, walking next to Nikolai in silence. Nikolai chose to be quiet, enjoying the walk, cool breeze, staring up at the sky with a light-hearted smile. You would never know this was an arms dealer, a man who profits off war. He didn't come off as that kind of person, scars and questionable background be damned.

He wanted to say something, as he stared at Nikolai, say anything to add to the moment. But John was afraid he wouldn't be able to do that, so he remained quiet. Staring, and he knew that Nikolai noticed. He was still smiling, he felt warm to stand next to even in the chilly evening.

"Maybe we should move on with your activity list, so you can return that borrowed vehicle."

Nikolai looked to John, smug, and John was horrified. Nikolai laughed as John stuttered, trying to get out a response in his defense.

"I know what your car looks like, sergeant. Maybe pick me up in it sometime."

Nikolai headed back to the car park and John watched him, dumbfounded.

"How do you know what my car looks like!?"

Nikolai didn't reply, just skipped ahead to the SUV.

___

"It was Kate, wasn't it?"

They took a longer route back to base, enjoying the ride with music playing softly from the radio. John couldn't get past the car comment.

"What fun would it be telling you? I need to keep my air of mystery."

John glared, "You're mysterious enough."

Nikolai's laugh would never get old. John could see him smile all night, hear him laugh all night. He wouldn't dare say this out loud, that would be too much.

They pulled back into base, security stopping them.

"Out late, sergeant. Hot date?"

A joke, but John had a hard time taking it as such. It stayed with him as he drove them to the hanger occupied by Chimera, and it apparently stayed with Nikolai, as well. They stopped in front of the hanger, Nikolai's men no where in sight.

"Well, that's the night."

"That's all?" Nikolai sounded amused yet disappointed.

"Well, work night and all..."

It was awkward, how was he supposed to end this? Nikolai was watching him expectantly, what was he waiting for? John was out of his element. The diner, walking through town, the park, the night drive-

How does he say good night to Nikolai?

"I may be... rusty."

"Rusty? In what, sergeant?"

John didn't get to speak as Nikolai reaches over and takes his chin in his hand, forcing him to look at him. Everything slowed in that moment, John's heart pounding and his mind screaming. Nikolai pulled him close and he followed without resistance. He couldn't remember the last time he ever kissed someone, let alone someone he was so drawn to. It was sweet but awkward.

When Nikolai parted away, John was staring at him with wide eyes, unable to say a word. He stared long enough to make Nikolai nervous, maybe even make him doubt himself and lose confidence. John didn't let him stew too long, grabbing Nikolai's shirt and forcing him close again, this time kissing with effort. Nikolai melted almost immediately, a hand cupping his jaw as he leaned completely into John.

When they parted again, John was grinning stupidly as was Nikolai. It was a wonderful feeling, like he could finally breathe.

"That's how you end a date, sergeant," Nikolai muttered and John laughed, "I would show you another way but... I want to know you."

"I want to know you, too."

It was all too soft and sweet for men like them. But it was something John needed terribly, he wasn't even aware of how much he needed it until that moment. Nikolai ended the night with another kiss, soft on his cheek before he got out of the SUV and headed into the hanger. John watched him until he was out sight, only then driving back to the car park to return the SUV.

___

"You look... happy," Banks muttered, watching him with great suspicion.

John wasn't surprised, he felt better than he had in years. True, genuine happiness, of course it was noticed.

"I had a good night."

"Right... in LT's car?"

John bites back a laugh as Sikes, who had previously gave him a wide berth the entire morning, whipped his head around to glare at them. Banks snorted and ducked his head, suppressing his laughter into his arm. Mac walked in then, with Nikolai, and Banks was putting all his training towards not cackling at Sikes' expression.

"Gentlemen, business," Mac grunted.

Nikolai chose to sit next to John and John felt giddy. Mac looked between them like he knew something, and he wasn't pleased about what he knew. But he didn't say anything on it, choosing to move on to the task at hand.

John tried to focus, but it was hard when Nikolai insisted on holding his hand under the table.

___

"You kissed him? Kissed him!?"

Apparently being polite and not waking Kate up in the night to tell her was the wrong move. He chose to go with her annoyance.

"Yea, we're having a spring wedding. When's yours?"

Kate was hysterical, in laughter and other reasons. John listened, laughing, as he stared at the postcard that was left on his desk. It was written in Russian, a heart at the end, and John knew his next personal mission. Learn Russian, and hopefully write out everything he felt that he's never been able to say out loud in English.

#long post #call of duty #modern warfare #john price #kate laswell #cod nikolai #captain macmillan #drabble #fic #pricenik #nikprice #also on ao3

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