#she’s got a thing for ambitious men
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nikayna · 10 months ago
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BG3 OC Questionnaire
I was tagged by no one but saw this on AvaniArts page and wanted to join in (I can’t tag you for some reason?). I tweaked it slightly!
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Name: Cordeilla Rhys (kor-day-uh reese)
Nickname: Someone from her past used to call her Dell, but she can’t picture them; her companions call her Daya
Gender: Female
Star Sign: Libra - she’s an October baby
Height: 5’10”
Orientation: Uh, look. Let’s just call it pansexual-ish and then look the other way 👀 The two most important relationships she’s had have been with men, though
Race: Human Bhaalspawn
Romancing: Gale. Something about an ambitious man who loves poetry and has a flair for dramatics tugged at her shattered memories.
Fave Fruit: Blackberries or pomegranates. Their juices reminds her of gore.
Fave Season: Autumn. She likes the burst of color as everything dies.
Fave Flower: Black Calla Lilies
Fave Scent: Rosewood and vanilla, though she can’t remember why. She’s also realized, to her consternation, that she loves the scent of blood, even if it’s stale.
Coffee Tea or Hot Chocolate: Black coffee
Average Sleep Hours: Only 3-4. Her urges tend to keep her up.
Dogs or Cats: Neither, although Scratch’s presence in camp is making her reconsider.
Dream Trip: Baldur’s Gate has everything she needs. Although, the thought of visiting Waterdeep with Gale has started to tickle her fancy.
Amount of Blankets: None, she runs hot.
Random Fact: She likes poetry. She doesn’t write it, but she likes hearing it, especially from the lips of a handsome man. She has hazy memories of a different man, with dark hair and eyes and a deep, honeyed voice, reading her poetry while the sounds of the city wafted through the open window. Who or where or even what poem, though, has been lost among the shards of her brain. Besides, she likes Gale’s voice too, especially when reciting poetry - how soft and sensual it becomes. It makes her dagger hand twitch.
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t8oo · 6 months ago
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there is some symbolism iv never considered in that one episod of pt5 where zenigata rescues fujiko before she kills lupin
#there are many timelines and variations in lupin as a serie so that every ship could work#in my own prefered timeline lupin finally gets the hint that fujiko plays him like a fiddle#to me she does like him but he is an instrument to her#she is cold hearted and calculating and always thinking about relationships in terms of profit#i got some ideas abt her background that justify this. essentially she kills the detective that is after her and with that kills#the soft part of her that she couldnt control before#eventually and despite his affection lupin gives up the objectifications and the desires he projects onto fujiko#whom uses his delusions like a master tbh#thus allowing himself to consider zenigata. he plays with zenigata the way fujiko plays with him#hes just not as calculating. he feels pity and remorse where fujiko doesnt#he finds the thrills and the doubts and the lack of trust and the risk of betrayal in zenigata. the things that he loves the most#he isnt about stability. he thrives in the unknown. he loves that zenigata could backstab him and does so sometimes#and in that lack of stabilty some form of stability builds up. there is familiarity#and most importantly there are rare times when they can put the game aside and just chill#just enough to gather the energy to go back to trying to kill each other#plus zenigata pampers him during those breaks and he loves that#he acts with carelessness but he does care. in that regard he looses to fujiko#at least thats how she sees it. he doesnt see caring as a flaw#and zenigata is so sweet. he really is. and lupin loves to stirr up the crazy in him#fucking loonies the both of them#so in essence zenigata doesnt really 'save' him from fujiko but he becomes lupins new favourite toy to throw around#fujiko is only upset that because of that ugly looser of a detective her grip on lupin is loosening#she does find ways to use that newly developed affection luzeni has to her advantage thou#lupin is still her instrument she just drags zenigata along now#fujiko is such a good and interesting character and deserves so much better honestly#despite my love for TWCFM i wish there was another serie centralized around her where her ruthlessness is examined#and her cunning is studied. and the proper law enforcement she should face the same way lupin does#shes like a million times smarter and more ressourceful than him. steals much more. embezzles. manipulate#lupin is just a small time pickpocket next to her. she isnt about stealing a painting shes about emptying the pockets of the richest men in#the world. her goals are much more ambitious
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theprettynosferatu · 3 months ago
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CW: Non-consensual, Intox (aphrodisiac), Mind breaking.
Two years. Two fucking years of work down the drain. The worst two years of her life, working towards a goal she knows she’ll never see, and all because someone up the chain of command got bribed or threatened or who knows what else. What matters is someone fucking sold her out and now she’s bound up, staring at the gang of absolute sadistic freaks she has pushed herself so hard to infiltrate. 
Shit, the things she has done to be accepted as one of them! Well, “one of them” is stretching it. More like a trusted groupie, she figures. The amount of “slutty, fiery latina” acting she has been forced to do almost makes her throw up. It’s a stereotype and a racist one at that but damn it if these dumb motherfuckers raised by porn didn’t appreciate it, in a sick way. And all of it for a goddamn rumor.
They have this new shit, this kinda spray thing, makes any girl wanna fuck you like crazy… True Love, they call it.
Yeah, right. But still, the chance that such a drug could exist and flow through the streets, paired with some rather bizarre incidents of victims fighting to remain by their captor’s side… it was enough to try and get someone on the inside. And she’s ambitious, young, and most importantly, with the proper… attributes to play the gang-doll. Even now she almost wants to chuckle at the memory of the chief trying to explain that part, fighting so hard not to mention her ass. She’s not dumb. Wasn’t then, isn’t now. Without what she, modesty aside, considers the most spectacular ass in the city, the gang would have never even taken a second look at her. And she wouldn’t be here, now, tied up. 
Fuck. She realizes her mind is rambling, going on tangents, trying to escape the simple reality of the situation. She can’t move, and seven men are looking at her like she’s dessert, discussing exactly what to do to her. 
“Maybe we should use it, you know” one says.
She thinks she’s “it”, for a moment. She realizes she’s wrong as Karl, who has more muscles than brain cells and yet for some reason always calls the shots, removes one of the floorboards. Fuck! She has been in this warehouse dozens of times, looked everyone for evidence of the supposed magic drug, and has always come up snake-eyes. And it’s right fucking there, under the goddamn floor. What the fuck is it, the 1950’s? She’s tried every phone, installed keyloggers on laptops, learned every password- in her head, there had to be some clever operation at work, some devious method to keep such a huge deal secret. Nope. It’s under the fucking floor. She wants to tell them to untie her, just so she can kick her own ass. 
They laugh as they get naked, and a wave of shame crashes over her. She realizes she has seen all of these bodies before, and it makes her sick to her stomach. Sure, men get talkative when bragging and trying to get someone into bed. And men lower their guards after they bust a load- that is, if they don’t just roll over and fall asleep instantly. She has used that, over and over, to get information, to get chances to snoop.
Did she have to, though? That question has haunted her, and now it seems to grow solid, like a rock in her chest. Did she truly have to play up all those stereotypes to become some fucked up fantasy of whatever a hot latina is supposed to be? Did she have to buy all those booty shorts, those cheap jewels, those slutty heels? 
And didn’t a part of her enjoy the attention?
Fuck. Chances are she’ll die here, and she doesn’t want to die a delusional bitch. Yes, fine, being the center of attention felt nice. But the sex? No. That was awful. Pretending to be attracted to these meatheads, doing anything they wanted just so her reputation as a grade-A piece of ass would spread, faking orgasms…
Bull and shit. You’re dying here, Mariana. Stop lying to yourself. You didn’t fake all of them.
She’s yanked away from her little spiral of shame by the loud hiss of spray being applied. They’re passing a little can around, coating their cocks with… 
No. It can’t be real. It just can’t. There is no magic spray. It can’t possibly work. Sure, these idiots might think it does, but in reality, no, True Love isn’t a thing.
The images flow into one another like photographs. She knows, rationally, what is happening. A knife is cutting her bindings as two sets of hands are holding her arms. Her shorts are being sliced, ripped off her. Her legs are being held wide open for Meathead Karl. She files these things in her mind, and feels nothing. She’s there, but she’s not really there. Ah, yes. Dissociation as a defense mechanism for trauma. Mariana has read about it, and now feels mildly fascinated by the experience. 
The pain drags her back to reality. Her instincts kick in, and she braces for the suffering that is to come after that initial opening salvo. She grits her teeth, and…
The pain doesn’t come. She hears laughter as her eyes grow wide, a horrible realization dawning on her. The feeling between her legs is a warm thing, a pleasant thing, slithering up her body, unlike anything she has ever felt before. 
“Starting to hit you, Officer? Oh, this is just beginning”, someone says, his voice coming to her as if from a million miles away. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. It’s real. Fucking True Love is real. Her mind reels, the interviews with previous victims rushing in her memories. The way they spoke about their abusers as if they were Gods. The way they defended them. The way they longed for them, like junkies going into withdrawal. She can’t become like them. She can’t lose herself like that. She can’t…
She can’t focus. Her mind is getting fuzzy as the delicious sensation reaches her nipples. Every inch of her skin feels sensitive, overwhelming. A pussy. My whole body is one giant pussy. She has no idea where the thought comes from, but it grows inside her as she squirms and little moans escape her lips. No. Don’t give them the satisfaction. Don’t moan. Don’t move.
“Oh, now you’re getting it. Don’t worry. It will get much, much worse”
Whose voice speaks? She can’t tell. She finds it harder and harder to care. Suddenly, her body betrays her as her hips start moving on their own, seeking pleasure, trying to coax the cock inside her deeper…
She feels on fire. She hates herself, hates how good every thrust feels, how much she needs more and more and more. Thoughts flood her, like a strange invasion taking over her mind. Cock. Cock feels good. Cock feels so fucking good. This is good. This is perfect. This is exactly what I should do. This is all I want. This is all I have ever wanted. Her mission starts to fade away. She can barely recall why she ended up being fucked like a good girl by this marvelous cock, and it feels so unimportant, so insignificant. Only the pleasure matters. She needs more. Her eyes cast around her. Cocks. Big, hard cocks, stiff for her. She starts drooling. The men laugh. She doesn’t care. There are hard cocks near her. Why aren’t they using her?
No. Snap back, Mariana. This isn’t you.
Why not?
Isn’t this better than whatever she was before?
One of the men lowered his body, his cock inches away from her face. She needs to taste it. She needs to wrap her tongue around it. She needs to worship it, body and soul.
“Oh, poor slut wants it?”
She’s not sure she understands the words. But she does understand, with a frenzied animal cunning, the desire behind them. They want her to beg. Some distant remain of sanity is pleading with her not to give in, not to surrender her voice, to keep some small part of her true self. It screams in vain.
“Please… give… cock…” she manages to mumble between moans.
“No. Not yet. You see, officer, your mind might be going, but your body is learning very fast. It’s so open now… And we intend to keep you around for a long time. No quick sell for you. So we need to… train you a bit”
Mariana knows the man is talking. The words don’t reach her until he starts playing with her nipples, and a single word takes over her entire existence.
“Cum”
She shakes. She screams. Her entire body is reduced to a single, shining sensation of absolute pleasure. She can feel something inside her breaking, giving in. She pants and a part of her expects the sensations to subside, but they don’t. If anything, the constant pleasure grows, leaving her right at the gates of another orgasm. She tries to grind, to move, to use the cock inside her to cum again…
“Not without permission, toy”, someone says. She almost manages to squeak out a complaint, but the stimulus is too strong. All she can do is squeal and moan.
The world swirls around her, colors heightened, bleeding into each other. She never wants to go back to the gray, solid, difficult past. She wants to stay here, be this- be pleasure.
“Cum”
Yes. She cums, and nothing else matters. This is all she needs. All she exists for. Her eyes are unfocused, her mouth hanging open. She feels the cock touch her lips before she even consciously sees it. The imperative is immediate. Suck. Lick. Take it deep in your throat. Use your tongue, pressure with your lips, the vibrations of your moaning. Use everything you are to please cock. 
“Cum”
Every time it gets stronger, going beyond whatever she ever thought possible. No mind can hope to withstand such a tidal wave of pleasure. As soon as she realizes they’re starting to move her, she hops up. The men don’t have to tell her what they want from her. She wants the same thing. She’s just holes. Holes need to be filled with cock. She impales herself on Karl’s dick and leans forward, letting him suck on her sensitive nipples, leaving her asshole ready, eager. She’s presenting herself like an animal in heat, and she’s loving every second of it. She’ll do anything to keep feeling like this, forever.
“Ass…” she manages to say.
“Not good enough, cunt. Come on, you can use your words better than that”
Words. Words for cock. Words to make cock happy. They own her words. They own her mind. They own her body.
“Please… use my ass… fuck my tight little hole… ram it hard! Wreck it! I need it so bad, need it so bad, need you to take me, take my ass, make me cum, never let me go, please please please…”
Even the pain feels good. Everything feels good. Humiliation feels good. Their mockery feels good. Their spit on her skin feels good. Obeying feels good.
One cock in her ass, using it with no care for her or any pain it might cause. One in her wet cunt, driving her mad. One in her mouth, using her like a breathing fleshlight. One in each hand, the promise of cum to come. This is it. This is bliss. This is heaven. This is all any woman could ever desire. This is home. 
“Such a good fucktoy…”, one mutters, trying to hold back his own orgasm.
The word infects her. Fucktoy. It starts overwriting everything inside her. Fucktoy. Her police training crumbles in her memory. Fucktoy. Her memories of her family fade away, forever. Fucktoy. Her hatred for cruel men vanishes. Fucktoy. Fucktoy. Fucktoy. It is all she is. All she has ever been. All she ever wanted to be. She’s mumbling it in between taking cock in her mouth. It rises like a gigantic obelisk in her mind, ruling over her, conquering all.
Fucktoy.
“Cum. Cum. Cum.”
Wave after wave of pleasure overtake her, crashing into each other, blasting away all that was and all that could ever be.
By the time she gets back something resembling consciousness, warm cum is coating her skin. She can feel the wonderful jizz inside her holes, taste it on her tongue still. She must have swallowed it. Like a good fucktoy. She feels so proud, so valuable, so beautiful. She made cocks cum. She was good. She was useful.
“Officer, remind me… what were you looking for?”
She looks at the man like a confused puppy.
“Cock?”
“I see. And what’s your name?”
She straightens up, full of pride. This one she knows.
“Fucktoy!”, she smiles.
Did you enjoy this story? You can support my work and get access to the full library at patreon.com/prettynosferatu
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ecoterrorist-katara · 6 months ago
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“Katara deserves a quiet life after the war, so becoming a healer (who made no contributions to the field) is actually a good arc!”
It is already bizarre to me that in ATLA, Katara is this confident & combative & ambitious girl who LOVED to fight and wanted nothing more than to help as many people as possible…then comics!Katara and TLOK!Katara showed neither her previous personality traits nor a career commensurate with those traits…
but it’s even more bizarre to me that ATLA fans would defend her trajectory as if it were some kind of progressive story of recovering from war trauma.
I’ve seen multiple takes like this. “Katara is not a YA heroine, she’s not a bloodthirsty girlboss who loves fighting so it’s actually a good thing that she doesn’t have to fight anymore” “after everything she’s been through she deserves a quiet life and a loving family”
For Katara, fighting in the war was actually empowering. It didn’t burn her out. It didn’t disillusion her. It didn’t take more out of her than she can give. Katara is not Katniss Everdeen, who needed to step back and discover her own agency and a sense of peace after fighting in a war she never chose to start. Katara’s war trauma largely happened before she took an active part in it. After she chose to be a part of the war, she became a waterbending master, made close friends, found her father again, got closure for her mother’s murder, defeated the Fire Lord, and met the love of her life. If Katara were a real person, maybe she’d be traumatized, but nowhere in the text of ATLA does she exhibit the sign that she’s tired of fighting on behalf of the world. If anything, she just got started.
If you take her post-ATLA arc at face value (vs as bad writing), it’s a tragedy of a woman who has learned to minimize her own relevance and her own power. In The Promise, she begins deferring serious decisions to Aang. She doesn’t even express a strong opinion about the fate of the entire colony of Yu Dao, or the fate of her friend Zuko. In North and South, she accepts Northern encroachment of the South in the name of progress. In TLOK we see her not as a politician or a chief, but rather as “the best healer” — albeit one who apparently never established a hospital, or trained acolytes of her own, or done anything to help people at scale, which she has always wanted to do. It’s even more egregious when you remember that in Jang Hui, she was not satisfied to simply heal the sick as the Painted Lady. She wanted to solve the root of the problem, so she cleaned the river and committed full-on ecoterrorism. Just because the war is over doesn’t mean she wants to stop helping people. In fact, the problem she addressed in Jang Hui is exactly the type of problem that would become more prevalent after the war ends, judging by the rapid industrialization between ATLA and LOK.
In the original ATLA, I think Katara is about as close to a power fantasy as you can get for a teenage girl, because she gets to be messy and goofy and powerful, even though she also had to perform a whole lot of emotional and domestic labour. But post-ATLA, she doesn’t get power and she doesn’t get to make a change. She gets love and a family. That’s it. And her grandkids don’t even remember her. Her friends and peers, on the other hand, were shown doing all sorts of super cool things like, you know, running the world they saved.
It’s not feminist to say that a female character deserves “rest” when she’s shown zero inclination that she wants a quiet life. Women who want a quiet life deserve to get it — I think Katniss’ arc is perfect — but women who want power deserve to get it too, especially when they’re motivated by compassion and a keen sense of justice. There’s nothing feminist about defending the early 2010s writing decisions of two men. Like just admit that they fucked up! It’s fine! Maybe they’ll do better in the future!
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beanghostprincess · 10 months ago
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Okay, so I haven't watched all of FMAB yet, but I love how Ed is so fucking oblivious. He got a gorgeous girl, way smarter than him and out of everybody's league, who plays with the cord of the telephone when they speak together because she's down bad and laughs softly when he talks. And he's like "yeah, yeah, well, I am glad you're alive haha I thought they were going to brutally fucking murder you today. So that's a relief. Bye, super best friend in the world" and hangs up like the moron he is. But not only that, because well, they can't see each other so I get he doesn't notice the crush in Winry's voice, BUT LING?????? Dude has been with that prince inside a guy's stomach and has carried him around and cooked him his boot and yelled at him for giving up because he can't leave somebody as ambitious as him there without accomplishing what he wants, and then he says some gay bullshit like "Ling is still in there" after looking at Greed's eyes ONCE. One thing is not realizing a girl is crushing on you but Oh my God Edward for fuck's sake get a clue and realize you like men-
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syoddeye · 18 days ago
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kinktober - day 26 - seduction
price x f!reader | 1.4k words cw: alcohol, flirting, bad pick up lines, Mr. Blobby, the cowboy hat rule a/n: liberties? taken. smut? look elsewhere. a silly time. my type of seduction. summary: john never saw the appeal of halloween. then he met you. banner by @/cafekitsune | kinktober list
What John would do for the quiet of his room.
There’s another hour to go. Another hour of shit beer, stilted conversation, and sweating more profusely than when he was last in Urzikstan.
Heaving a sigh, John pours the dregs of his drink onto the ground, pulls the mask over his face, and returns indoors to the Twilight Zone: Gaz and Soap’s Halloween party.
“Looking goood Michael,” a nun with a crooked habit croons, looking over the shoulder of a familiar mohawked head, its face buried in her neck. “Y’wanna take the other side?” 
Beneath the mask, his nose wrinkles. Handy thing about Myers, his silence. He doesn’t feel a lick of guilt ignoring chatter.
He nearly collides with Simon around the bend. The big man leans against the wall, arms crossed, the distressingly realistic machete clutched in a mitt. His head angled toward where John just passed.
“Are you…?”
From behind the shadow of the hockey mask, Simon huffs. “Yes, sir.”
“Right. Behave.” A chuckle follows him around another corner. 
In the main thoroughfare of Kyle’s home, John hugs the walls. His other sergeant is occupied on the makeshift dance floor, four bodies deep on every side. The younger man’s got a nurse in the front and a Beetlejuice in the back. Ambitious.
He pushes toward the kitchen, stopping short at the sound of cheering. A sigh rattles out from his chest. He swore he’d stay until one. Gave his word. But pulling an Irish goodbye grows all the more enticing. With the men thoroughly distracted, it’s not as if they’d notice his departure.
“You look like you could use a drink, Mike.” A voice chirps in passing, coming from the rear.
His head swivels and his breath catches. Pretty. A feast for the eyes disguised as a cowgirl. A cow print shirt with nacre buttons tied loose in the front, exposing ample skin above and a sliver below. A bandana knotted at her throat. Deep brown leather chaps worn over jeans with a big buckle. Topping it all off is a cowboy hat, tilted slightly, casting a shadow over the top half of her face.
“Gruesome work by the way. The IV bag? Brutal.” She grins, walking right on by.
Her outfit has no lasso, but John feels her tug anyway.
It’s chaos in the matchbox-sized kitchen. A group of men egg on a lobster necking a boot, whose face matches the shade of his costume. A man’s slotted between the legs of a woman perched on the counter, their faces melded together by spit. He locks eyes with the lone ranger as she hip-bumps the refrigerator shut, two longnecks in hand, before she slips through another archway.
He follows.
She winds through a cluster of people, not once glancing back to see if he’s behind her. Works for him. Her jeans hug her arse perfectly, the chaps creating the perfect frame for its lovely shape. A more animal part of him disconnects, wandering off to imagine her with only the leather on. He swallows a pool of saliva as he crosses over into the sitting room. He finds her hovering beside a bookcase. He closes the distance and yanks off the mask.
“Beer?”
His eyes fall to her hands. “Yeah, let me–”
“I got it. Hold this.” She relinquishes a beer then fixes the other bottle to her belt buckle. With a metallic clink, the crown finds a groove, and the cap pops off with a twist of her wrist. Her free hand snaps out to catch it before it falls, but John doesn’t look away from her waistline. Without a word, she exchanges the bottles and repeats herself. A small, triumphant smile breaks across her face. “There.” An introduction rolls off her tongue as she taps their beers together.
Christ.
“Thanks.” The back of his neck is damp, as is his hair, something he didn’t think to mind until now. Sheepish under her obviously appraising gaze, he rakes a hand through his mussed hair in an attempt to tame it. His eyes dip briefly to her belt again, stuck on the patch of skin below her navel. Looks like a nice, soft spot for a kiss. His name sticks to the roof of his mouth briefly. “I’m John.”
“John.” she echoes. Best he’s ever heard his name sound. “Well, John, you’re welcome for the beer and for doing you a favor.”
The wry smile on her face is infectious. His mouth twitches. “And what favor is that?”
Her lips shine from a sip. “You were gonna bolt and miss out on the show.”
“The show.” He repeats, squinting. “How did you…?”
“I’ve pulled enough French exits to see the signs. With or without that mask,” she points to his face. “You radiate I don’t want to be here energy. As for the show, everyone knows the best shit goes down after midnight. Especially on Halloween.”
 Doubtful. Yet, who is he to refuse such company?
“I didn’t realize I was that obvious.”
“Most people are open books without realizing it.” A smirk forms on her face, her voice light but pointedly cheeky. “You know, I read palms, too.”
It’s a bit. John plays into it, returning the expression. “Yeah? You want to try mine?” 
She swallows a drink and sets the bottle on a shelf, gesturing for him to give her a hand.
He chuckles, obliging her. 
With a waggle of her brow, she steps closer and turns his palm up, immediately inspecting it as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world. She’s silent the first few moments, and though the party buzzes around them, he’s glued to the feigned expression of severity. Focused on the soft pressure of her fingers gliding across his skin, tracing its lines and the calluses.
“Hmm.” she hums knowingly, tapping one juncture of lines. “Your career line. Says you’re doing well, that you’re on an upward trend. Similar story for your travel bug line,” she recites the platitudes for several minutes, eyes flicking up to meet his as she goes. She’s gorgeous, better up close, and funny. She effortlessly riffs off his comments, cracking the both of them up over her more far-fetched predictions. Admittedly, the plunge of her tied shirt tempts his focus once or a dozen times.
A playful lilt teases the edge of her words. “We can’t forget your heart line, John.”
“Can’t imagine it’s very interesting.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure.” Something impish glints in her eyes. “In fact, I see an encounter or two in your future.”
The air goes thin—charged, electric, each syllable dangling like a worm on a hook. “Is that so.” he angles closer, fingers slowly closing to catch hers. “These ‘encounters’…Anything you can tell me about them?”
She abruptly flattens his fingers again, smoothing over his palm without looking down. “Something about taking a cowgirl home to put her in cow—What the fuck?” Her eyes break away, widening in a mixture of disgust and disbelief.
He turns just in time to see a Mr. Blobby barge into the room, purposefully trip, and fall down onto a coffee table. The wood cracks and splinters beneath the monstrosity’s weight, while whatever psychopath inside the costume does his best impression of the creature’s demonic voice. There’s an accent to it. Vaguely familiar, but ultimately unplaceable.
Gaz appears in the doorway, Beetlejuice face paint smeared on his cheek. His mouth hangs open, then shuts in a snarl. “What the fuck—”
John swears, his hand slipping free, and abandons what might’ve been the ride of his life to interject.
It takes some doing to wrangle the diseased yam outdoors, with Simon and Soap hauling it by each of its arms. John lingers in the doorway, watching the pitiful man be dragged off by his lieutenant and cursing sergeant. The latter’s sore about missing the good word from his girl in the veil. Somewhere in the house, Gaz plays the aggrieved host, surely seeking the comfort of his nurse. A dejected Beetlejuice tosses one back in a corner.
John slowly oscillates through the rooms in a loop, his expression carefully neutral, but his eyes dart past every shoulder and over each head, searching. He returns to where he left her, but the cowgirl’s nowhere in sight. Probably left with the small group scared off by the disturbance. His hand twitches at his side, feeling the ghost of her fingertips. 
A slight weight touches his head as he turns to finally make for the exit himself. He catches his surprised look in a mirror on the wall, then the cowboy hat on his head.
And her sly grin poking over his shoulder.
“You still interested in a roll in the hay, or did I misread that?”
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alphajocklover · 2 months ago
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The following story was a commission from a reader who would prefer to remain anonymous. They have given me permission to share this story. Quick thank you to them.
Made For This Town
Maxwell Ford was moving.
Specifically, Maxwell Ford was moving to a small town called Maxford.
Max Ford was moving… to Maxford.
It was almost funny, or at least it would have been funny if Maxwell wasn’t absolutely miserable about this entire thing.
Maxwell hated that they were moving again. His family moved quite a bit, his mothers job as a software engineer bringing them all around the country. Usually Maxwell was fine with moving. It was annoying but he was used to it. He was a fairly social guy and made friends easily. This time Maxwell doubted he’d make any friends at all, mainly because Maxwell was basically moving to the middle of nowhere.
When he had first heard they were moving to a town that shared his name he thought it was actually kind of cool. Even when he learned it wasn’t a city he had still been kind of excited. He had lived in cities his entire life, and had actually been curious about what it might be like to live in a small town. Then he had learned about what Maxford was actually like. There wasn’t a lot of information about it on the internet, which was a little strange since everything was on the internet these days, but what he had learned had soured him on the town completely. Maxford was… well it was weirdly normal. There was no other way to put it. The town was weirdly normal. Maxwell knew that a lot of small towns were conservative and focused on athletics, but Maxford seemed to take it to a whole new level. Everyone was conservative and athlete obsessed. Absolutely everyone! It didn’t sound possible, but try as he might Maxwell couldn’t find any semblance of any sort of counter culture. There were no nerds, no goths, no punks and no LGBTQ people of any kind. The only mention of LGBTQ people and Maxford were some quack conspiracy theorists online raving about some kind of reality changing forcefield. Maxwell was convinced that even if he found other nerdy or gay people like him in Maxford, they’d be absolutely crazy. It wasn’t like Maxwell could do anything about it though. He was just 18 and hadn’t finished highschool yet. He didn’t have the means to live on his own. So he resigned himself to spend his senior year surrounded by jocks. Though that didn’t stop him from pouting about it the whole ride there.
“God it’s like there's no cell service out here.” Maxwell groaned from the passenger seat of his family's subaru. Maxwell could hear his dad, Samuel Ford, sigh from the driver's seat, and could tell his dad was rolling his eyes without even looking. Maxwell knew it was all in good fun though. He and his dad actually got along great, which made sense considering they were both very similar. Both were skinny men who appeared younger than they were and had a love for sci-fi and video games. The only real difference was that Samuel was far more mature and less emotional then Maxwell. His emotional maturity and kindness was probably the only reason Samuel was able to get Maxwell’s mother, Rose, to go out with him. Rose was both attractive and ambitious, and Samuel absolutely adored her. She had driven ahead in the family's other car with a bit more of their stuff, so currently the car was just father and son.
“Son, I know you’re not really excited about this move…” Sam said sympathetically, a kind smile on his face “But I swear it won’t be as bad as you think. I know this town is different from the places we’ve lived before, but I know you’ll make friends.” Sam said. Maxwell doubted it, but said nothing and smiled slightly at his fathers attempts to cheer him up as they approached the city limits of Maxford. “You’ll see, son. As soon as we get in there…”
“You’ll be pulling pussy like fucking crazy.” Sam Ford said, a cocky grin on his manly face as he gave his son a knowing smile.
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Max Ford puffed his chest slightly with pride as he smirked at his Dad. He wasn’t really worried about getting a new girl to go out with him, since chicks were basically putty in his hands. Why wouldn’t they be? He was a fucking stud. Over 6 feet tall with roaring, beefy muscles. He was so big he already had a place on the Maxford High football team without even having to try out. He had sent some pictures of himself to the football coach and got a starting place on the football team just like that. But Max liked it when his dad complimented him, since he had looked up to the man his entire life, so he pretended to be nervous about finding a girl for homecoming so his dad would try and cheer him up. His dad was fully aware his son was just playing, but studs like them had to build eachother up. As they drove through Maxford, Max thought about the upcoming school year with a cocky grin. He knew being the new kid in senior year might be a little weird, but a guy like him could make friends anywhere. Plus, a guy named Max Ford in a town called Maxford? It was like fate. Max was sure he’d be the king of his highschool in no time.
Sam pulled up at their new house, parking their SUV next to the family pickup. He got out of the car and sauntered over to his wife Rose, who was waiting for them. She had come earlier to get the house set up. Being a stay at home mom, Rose wanted to make sure everything was perfect for her man. Max rolled his eyes as his parents kissed sloppily, almost gagging as his dad groped his Moms ass. Turning away from them, Max saw a busty girl across the street, staring at him with unhidden interest. With a seductive smirk, Max stripped off his shirt, threw it to the floor, and flexed for the bimbo, who he couldn’t hear giggle and blush as he showed off.
Max laughed. A town full of hot girls and cool bros. It was like the town of Maxford was made for him. Or… maybe he was made for the town of Maxford.
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**Hope you guys enjoyed another little trip to Maxford! I don’t know how the fact that the random town name I made up would also make a good jock name didn’t occur to me till now, but I’m grateful it did! If you like this, stay tuned for more or maybe even commission me. I already got another commission for a much longer Maxford themed story on the books! See you later!**
373 notes · View notes
literaryuppsala · 2 years ago
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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.
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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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rasoyas · 7 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.
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cod-dump · 2 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.
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abbysimsfun · 16 days ago
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Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 80 (Conrad and His Father)
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cw: coarse language, tense family dynamic, follows the events of this post
Life after Helena Gordon's death was difficult for the men she left behind. Years later, Conrad and his father still struggled with her loss. The apartment furnishings were unchanged, and no photos to remember her hung on the walls.
Another call from his son's high school guidance counselor left Stephen Gordon at a loss. He feared their connection was slipping away.
"Another fist fight? What was it this time?"
"It was nothing. They were just assholes."
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"If you keep this up, you might not graduate."
"Who cares what I do? We all just die anyway."
"Son, I know you're better than this. You want more than this; I know you do. You know your mother would want more for you, too."
"Oh, now you want to talk about her? You only bring her up when you want to tell me what a loser I am!"
"I never said anything like..." He stopped himself. All Conrad ever wanted to do was argue, and Stephen was running out of patience. "What is it that you need, son? You won't talk to any counselors, you won't talk to me..."
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"I don't want to talk about your bullshit opinions, Dad!"
"Well, what do you want to talk about? How are your college applications coming along?"
Conrad grunted. "Fine."
"What major are you-"
"I don't know! Fuck! Are you that excited to get me out of this place?"
"You have to get this anger under control, son. I don't know how you're going to do it, but think about the kind of father you'll want to be someday. You can't scream at-"
"I'm never having kids. Ever."
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Stephen threw up his hands in exasperation. "Fine. Don't have kids! Don't finish high school without getting yourself expelled, and don't amount to a goddamned thing! Maybe you need to channel this anger into working out or something."
"We can't afford a gym membership," Conrad scoffed. "The Landgraabs pay you shit money and you're still working off all Mom's medical bills."
"You're smart and you're resourceful. Figure it out! But you're not moping around here, and the next time you get in a fight at school, I'll pull you out and force you to work Landgraab security with me for the rest of your miserable existence."
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In a huff, Conrad locked himself in his room. Despite his nihilistic outburst, he pulled out his math homework and focused on the equations to calm his mind.
His mother would never approve of his grades slipping, especially now that he was less than a year from his high school graduation. She'd left them, but her ambitious spirit still flickered quietly in her grief-stricken son. He was only doing these stupid equations for her. "I hope you're happy," he muttered under his breath.
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He hated how close she felt - like she was always just a phone call away - even though she was gone. It was so unfair.
After an hour, his father knocked on the door. With a roll of his eyes, Conrad stood to let him in. Right away, Stephen sat on the bed. "I'm sorry I yelled at you," he said. "I've just tried so hard to reach you and I'm at my wit's end."
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"It's fine. I thought I might head down to the gym tomorrow and see if they're hiring. I'm pretty sure employees get free memberships."
Stephen Gordon grinned proudly. "I said you were resourceful, son. I think that's a great idea."
So Conrad got a part-time job at the local gym, scrubbing the toilets and changing rooms in exchange for free use of the machines. His embrace of physical activity helped get him through his senior year.
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His grades got him into Foxbury Institute for Computer Science, and he even started looking to his future with a renewed sense of excitement.
On his graduation day, the smiles he shared with his father were genuine, even if both could feel Helena's absence as strong as ever.
"She's so proud of you, son. I know she is."
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He nodded, careful not to get wrapped up in referring to his mother in the present tense. "She would be."
Off on his own in Britechester, Conrad took his new independence seriously. He and his father had nowhere near enough money for him to blow off his education and waste the tuition.
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He spent long hours studying in the old library, and it wasn't long before he found a local gym to help manage his emotions.
Pappy Murphy had been a boxer, and Conrad was drawn to the punching bags. Treadmills and weight machines couldn't match the pummeling he could give his own emotional baggage with a set of gloves and a bag.
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The gym soon became his home away from home, and he spent time there as often as he could... ->
<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start
WCIF Boxing Gym? Pappy Murphy's Boxing Gym by SimDoughnut in the Sims 4 Gallery. I didn't realize until after I placed the lot in game, but it comes with a secret underground Fight Club-esque fight room and creepy scientific lair, too (with a weather machine in it!) and this place is screaming for some storyline but (for now!) it's only in my flashback save.
Fun discovery, because I was literally just looking for a gym in the gallery with boxing equipment so I could try to isolate whatever mod script was preventing me from placing punching bags in any gym after the last patch (it was Mercuryfoam's Martial Arts mod, and that's a bummer because I want this skill back from Sims 3 very much and I believe the mod is no longer being updated!)
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archangeldyke-all · 8 months ago
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i think i’ll die if we don’t get pt. 2 of sev and her trans identity, it was so good, i let out a breathe of contentment. thank you so much 💗💗💗
omg i'm so glad u liked it! i got another request for more of ceo sev, so i'm gonna combine these two :)
request for ceo Sevika & reader during their first meet/interviewing process pls 🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾
men and minors dni
sevika's loving being ceo.
nobody dares to give her even an inkling of shit at work anymore, and she thinks it's kinda funny watching people who were once so vile to her cower in fear when they deliver reports to her office.
she's good at her job, if a little scary when pissed. since she's started as ceo, the company's seen better numbers than ever before, all thanks to the changes she implemented the moment she took over.
the pay raise has been great too. with so much more disposable income, sevika's started to treat herself more and more frequently to pretty things and fun experiences.
most of her wardrobe is designer, custom tailored to her measurements. she's got several nice pieces of jewelry, gold chains and watches that all cost more than her yearly paycheck when she was working as a busser as a kid.
she's gotten herself two new cars, and moved herself into a penthouse apartment high above the twinkling lights of the city below.
she's been getting weekly massages and facials, and she's started getting her toes and nails done too-- nothing fancy, just a clear coat on top of perfectly manicured nails.
all in all, sevika's living her best life.
but there's one problem.
(two, if you ask her when she's drunk enough.)
the main problem is that she still can't find a good assistant. it's been a year and a half of her new position, and she's already gone through six assistants.
(the other problem, which she holds much closer to her heart, is that she's got a giant, luxurious bed at home, and nobody to cuddle her in it.)
her first assistant was... fine. he wasn't anything special, but he did his job well enough that sevika was willing to keep him around. he quit after four months, though, apparently 'tired of the office environment.'
the next three assistants all came and went within a week. the first was fired when sevika caught them snorting a line of cocaine off of her desk. the second quit after her she spilled an entire pot of coffee on herself. and the third made a sly remark under her breath that sevika hadn't been meant to hear, but heard anyways.
she found a reliable assistant in an ambitious young man, but he left after six months to return to university to get his graduate degree. he recommended his cousin take over the position, and sevika took him up on it.
his cousin was a nice young woman who held out for a few months with sevika, and made her coffee just like she liked it. but when her boyfriend proposed and asked her to move cross-country with him for his job, she said yes, and left sevika high and dry once again.
so now she's back to interviews. she fucking hates interviews.
she groans as she struts to her office door trying to give herself a pep-talk as she swings her glass door open and looks toward the reception desk for her next interview.
she chokes on her tongue when she sees you sitting in a chair, fiddling with the corner of your resume as you wait.
you're... beautiful. everything about you. sevika takes a moment to gawk at you before you notice her. you're like a walking wet dream just fucking... appeared in her waiting room. sevika's not sure if she's going to be able to get through this interview.
she calls your name off her clipboard, trying to ignore how much she likes the word in her mouth, and she loses her breath completely when your eyes snap up from your resume and you smile at her.
oh fuck. please let her be an asshole. sevika thinks, unwilling to believe someone as seemingly perfect as you could exist.
you're actually the farthest thing from an asshole in the world.
you're charming and giggly and you've got really great questions for sevika, like how she likes her coffee and what time she normally eats lunch.
you're under-qualified for the job, and when sevika points this out you cringe and shrug, scratching the back of your neck endearingly.
"i've never been a personal assistant before-- but i'm an incredibly fast learner, and if i can be honest, for this much money? i'd give a limb to keep you happy." you say, chuckling. sevika gulps, and bites her tongue to keep from saying some of the suggestions swirling in her mind of other ways you could keep her happy.
"well, a limb won't be necessary, but i should warn you. i've been told i can be a bit... cold. i'm no good with words, and i don't talk if i don't need to. it's nothing personal." she says. you smirk and tilt your head at her.
"you?" you ask, your eyes dancing up and down sevika's form in a way that makes her feel... tingly. "yeah, i guess i could see that." you say, giggling. sevika furrows her brow as she studies you.
"what's that supposed to mean?" she asks. something inside of her bubbles up, defensive and ready to kick you out of her office the second you say something wrong. she's been working on her defensive anger with her new therapist, well aware that it's just a way of protecting herself from potential disappointment, but she can't help it right now. because she'd be so fucking disappointed if you-- pretty, charming, slightly ditzy you-- were suddenly an asshole out of nowhere.
you just giggle and shrug. "you're so pretty it's hard to tell at first glance, but now that we're talking i can see that grumpiness creeping through." you say, smiling.
are you... teasing her?
and did you just call her pretty?
sevika blinks at you, the swirl of anger in her stomach fizzling out and leaving her vulnerable. she bites her lip, shakes her head, and reminds herself that this is a job interview. not a first date. she shouldn't be feeling all soft and giddy and excited right now.
she clears her throat and looks through her notes. you've answered all her questions, you've given the right answers for them all too. there's nothing left for her to do but just give in and hire you-- you're clearly perfect for the job.
she needs to find something wrong with you before she fucking... falls in love with you right here and now.
sevika takes a deep breath, then starts her interrogation.
"this job... it's not nine to five. that's what everyone else in the office works, but you'll be here when i get in to when i leave. some days, you'll be here before sunrise 'til after sunset." she says. you nod.
"that's fine with me." you say. sevika huffs.
"and you should know... i'm gay." she says, cringing the second the words leave her mouth. she never talks about this in interviews, but she's just hoping that you react poorly so she can write you off. you just blink at her.
"o-okay?" you ask. "are you asking me out or something?" you say, giggling. this catches her off guard, and sevika's jaw drops.
"what?" she asks. you shrug.
"i mean... i'd be into it, but i'd kinda like to know if i got the job before you take me to dinner." you say, laughing. sevika snorts, a smile pulling at her lips, and she pinches herself to keep from leaping across the table and kissing you.
"i'm trans too." she blurts. you blink at her again.
"...okay." you say, a little confused. "if you want... i could put reminders in your daily schedule for your hormones?" you ask, trying to figure out how the revelation ties to the job interview.
sevika just blinks at you, shocked and a little pissed off that the woman of her dreams has appeared in her life, only to become her assistant rather than her girlfriend.
sevika grunts, rubs her face, then sighs as she looks at you. you look concerned.
"did i do something wrong?" you ask, nervous. sevika sighs.
"no. you're perfect. i'm just... where the fuck have you been this whole time?" she asks, a little hysterical. you break out into a bright smile, and sevika's heart does a backflip.
"so...?"
"can you start tomorrow?"
taglist!
@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby
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sansacherie · 2 months ago
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while obviously wrong, i really dislike how alicent trying to convince jaehaera to kill aegon is dismissed as her just being a bitter, grieving woman who desires bloody vengeance over reconciliation. when in reality it's also not really that difficult to see her also as a desperate woman willingly to go to any lengths to protect her grandchild. the fact is a consort is more easily replaceable than a monarch. aegon iii needed to marry jaehaera to help strengthen his claim as aegon ii heir and to bring peace between the green and black factions. however aegon's claim does not disappear if jaehaera were to die. he is still king, but he would need a new queen. alicent would have been painfully aware of this. there would be black loyalists determined that no grandson of the "usurper" sits the throne, and there would be ambitious men eager to see their daughters rise. and i know a lot of people see unwin peake's rumoured involvement in jaehaera's death as "karma" because apparently he's no different than otto hightower when it came to alicents own marriage - a schemer who plotted to crown his daughter. but like otto hightower's plans never involved the murder of a child so im not sure they can be compared personally but what do i know.
but anyway it's really not that hard to see why alicent would think jaehaera is safer with aegon dead. of course, killing aegon wouldn't make jae completely safe, but it would eliminate what alicent would see as a threat to jaehaera. furthermore, of course such an action would only put jaehaera in danger as it would be an act of kinslaying and kingslaying. this is meant to show that on one level alicent is not in her own right mind. her desperation to protect jaehaera makes her blind to such things. however, a part of me also wonders if the actual truth was that when alicent gave the knife to jaehaera, she only meant it to be used as defense against the king in his presence, and that got twisted against her as her wanting the king harmed, rather than her simply wanting jaehaera to be able to defend herself. and because alicent had already been "refusing to reconcile" it was easier to believe that of her and preferable for those who would want to see jaehaera further isolated by having her grandmother the dowager queen removed
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mrdarcysdadbod · 3 months ago
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Still mulling over Anne with an E and I think I need to watch another adaptation or two of AOGG bc I want to criticize the... Misappropriation of narrative space, I suppose, but I suspect that's also just a side effect of the medium, you know? Because what I mean by this is that Anne of Green Gables as a book is very, very narrow in its scope, as it is purely and solely about Anne and, especially early on, she doesn't give other people's stories or perspectives much space in her narrative, and is somewhat ruthlessly self-interested at times in a way that actively constrains the scope of the narrative. To me that's an interesting and delightful aspect of the book as a childhood/coming of age novel, because especially at an age like nine or ten, children really are focused on their own internal world primarily and are still in the earlier-to-middling stages of being more conscious of those around them and their lives and perspectives. A side effect of this is that, for example, we have no clue what's going on with Gilbert other than a few comments from secondary characters and some of Anne's own accidental, quickly interrupted mentions. I find this deeply charming, especially the way that it hints at Anne having editorial sway over the narrative, because she clearly thinks about him far more than he comes up in the text, and I think it could be adapted in a cute and inventive way to the screen, but that's neither here nor there.
The way this relates to Anne With an E is that I think AWaE got too ambitious in widening the scope of the narrative. I'm not even necessarily against the idea of, say, exploring Anne's history and behavior with a modern understanding of trauma rather than an Edwardian children's novel that absolutely wasn't interested in or intending to tackle the emotional realities of traumatized children. And that's a place where it shined (the scene of her cheerfully telling her classmates about "the mouse in a man's pants" to their growing horror was painfully accurate to the experience of not understanding that your funny story is actually deeply worrying), even if it got awkward at times (unfortunately the Anne actress did not carry off the flashbacks well and they were just kind of corny). Unfortunately I do think that there's, I suppose, a maximum amount of gritty reimagining that any narrative can reasonably bear, and I think AWaE way overdid it.
(putting this under a cut bc it got long and wandered away from the point)
I think there's space in that narrative to explore something like, pick two: residential schools or early 20th century modes of queerness or some B plot about con-men that came out of nowhere and mainly served to undermine the notion of Green Gables and Avonlea as a fundamentally safe place - frankly I'm not even against the idea of undermining that notion, in a "challenging the narratives of settler-colonial pastoralism" way, but I think that the residential school plot should've been the thing to do that, as a way of emphasizing that the idyllic safety of Avonlea came not as a result of hardy white Protestant goodness but very much at the expense of displaced and oppressed First Nations people, but I think the way they chose to do the conman B plot was actually counterintuitive to that end, because it positioned the outsiders as the ones seeking to extract profit at the expense of the good hardworking white Protestants of Avonlea, who then became the victims of a thieving invader, when, like. Colonialism, y'know? I digress.
Returning to my original point about the scope and space of the narrative, I may have the most issue with Gilbert's entire plotline. On the most basic level, it requires a significant reframing and rewriting of his and Anne's relationship at this point in their story, which I just... disagree with. I think it's a misstep to try and reimagine a deliberate erasure of him from the narrative via Anne's (somewhat petty) refusal to include him, even though he's very much present and the reader is regularly reminded of his presence in her life outside the text, as an opportunity to actually remove him from Avonlea and do some weird shit with him. Gilbert Blythe doesn't really need to go on a personal journey justifying his passion for medicine and wrestling with the realities and impacts of the Atlantic slave trade. (If I read that sentence after reading the book but before watching this show, I would find it completely bewildering.) It's not even that I don't think "Canada, as an English/French colonial project, has always benefited from and enabled the violence of slavery even if actual chattel slavery wasn't present there in nearly the same amount as it was in other parts of the empire" isn't worth exploring as an element of the showmakers' clear desire to interrogate and challenge AOGG as, unavoidably, a work of colonial fiction. I just don't think putting Gilbert on a boat achieves that. I'm not sure exactly how I'd achieve it - frankly I'm not well-versed enough in Canadian Black history to have a take - but, to me, deciding to literally import a character to make the point about Canada needing to wrestle with anti-Black racism as much as anyone is, like... I mean it's kind of decentering Black Canadians, isn't it? And the whole thing puts Gilbert in this really weird position of clumsily lampshading the white savior in relation to Bash, but also kind of a white savior by proxy in terms of Bash's relationship to the Black community in Charlottetown. I don't know, I'm not qualified to have much of a take on this, it was just all so bizarre and unnecessary to me.
Returning again to my original point, I ultimately just think that, while the text of AoGG leaves a lot unsaid and implied about what's going on with other characters in the novel, there's only so far you can stretch that and still be telling the same story, you know? And while the core of the book is Anne exploring her place in the world, and that can be expanded to include more serious questions about things like childhood trauma and various societal bigotries, I still don't quite know how I feel about the necessity of committing to, essentially, a change in genre for the sake of tackling some of these issues, because at the end of the day, for all it doesn't shy away from things like Ruby's or Matthew's deaths and the attending grief, AoGG is a children's book, and those challenging episodes still come with a resolution and catharsis, and that's... not really something you can achieve, if you're going to include residential schools as a B plot. Like, for a show set in 1890 or whatever, there's absolutely no way to have any sort of resolution or catharsis about a residential school without egregiously whitewashing the reality, especially in, what, 2019 this was airing? After several years of mass graves getting uncovered? I don't know, I think they were just too ambitious. It's not that the legacies of slavery and ongoing Native genocide don't deserve to be explored, but I'm not sure that an adaptation of a book that is firmly rooted in an idealized image of a rural Canadian childhood is the place for it. It's kind of weird to have the horrific violence of the residential schools sharing space with Anne putting liniment instead of vanilla in the cake, you know?
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extranenas · 3 months ago
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well the Olympics just ended, but what do you think about a kylian mbappe scenario where he's dating someone who is an athlete who is competing in the Olympics
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miss let down
pairing: kylian mbappe x fem!reader
genre: angst to fluff
plot: you always wanted to be the greatest- the girl who always wanted to be the best of the best- but when you finally get to prove yourself to the world in track- you failed miserably in your eyes…
extra: again for the sake of the story, reader was born in the us just so we have an idea of like what team she is and such (citizen ship wise yk actual ethnicity not specified) lowkey i had to make up some french players for the storyline😭😭😭
masterlist
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august 3rd 2024 would be the death of you. the biggest day in your entire life and what you worked up to for… 4 years…? spending that time for a good 10 seconds of your life that meant too much.
something that would determine if you really what you thought you were.
you were going against huge names- your teammate sha’carri richardson who was the fastest woman in the world and the famous jamaican runners who were known for dominating that iconic red and white track.
and then there was just you- a girl who managed to pass through the trials and made the 2024 olympic team. crazy thing how the biggest celebrator of your accomplishment was your boyfriend though.
throwing a small party for you and everything because of making the team while usually its you celebrating him cause of well… hes probably becoming the best right now winning soccers biggest trophy at only 18, getting into probably one of the biggest- if not the hugest club in the world, and breaking records on records.
and you were over here competing against his national teams track team before finals on his countries on soil (which you hope he didnt take too personally)
you dont even really remember how you two met cause it was such a blur. it went by so fast!
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“everyone knows that track is so much easier than football ky. its like… common knowledge! i mean come on- they just run around in circles for like… 20 seconds or whatever.”
“dont say that man… i mean if you tried it would you actually… complete it?”
“nah.”
“then why- ok dude.”
a then 19 year old kylian got up from the pitch he sat on. they currently were preparing for the upcoming world cup the year following and of course, an ambitious kylian wanted to touch that golden trophy.
he walked around the pitch and saw the players he seen every day just talking or laying down after a day of rough practice in that summer heat france was known for- other than pastries and such. he soon stopped by and went onto his phone in which one of his younger friends went up to him and did what kylian did.
“did you hear? about that united states team being in france right now.”
“what, what for?”
“some track tour or whatever- look.”
he soon shoved the phone in kylians hand which showed the news headline saying what he said.
“where are they training?”
“here dude!”
“what? here? they cant find somewhere else or…”
“no. theyre gonna be on the whole other side though so im guessing its fine man. i dont know.”
kylians eyebrow raised- sharing a centre with a track team? that doesnt make much sense.
-
the day came where the track runners finally arrived and got to the field where they started condition. of course those two being the curious men they were- decided they wanted to go see the team. they constantly bickered on whether or not they should go- even with the reminder if they did and they got caught snooping- 250 push ups would be needed for about 2 days.
and they still went.
they saw the team and were somewhat disappointed on what they saw.
“wheres all the running? this is bullshit dude! i thought they would like- i dont know run cause theyre apparently the best or whatever… those damn americ-“
kylian immediately stopped him and went quiet.
“i hear someone man. shut up real quick.”
they nodded and turned around to see a girl in the track uniform standing and looking at them.
“who are you guys?”
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that day was probably one of the greatest ever for kylian- meeting the love of his life cause he got caught snooping. now he watched her grow into a professional and is now running on the track to win a gold medal.
he sat in the crowd with a shirt of her face on it with a huge smile- waiting for the signal so the girls could start running
finally it rung out- and all you saw was 11 girls blasting off and running for their damn life for a 100m race. one of them being immediately spotted cause of her hair kylian helped choose out before she left.
she ran for her life- going ahead of nieta before running behind again- soon regaining speed and going back up.
8 seconds past by until 9 hit… then 10. finally someone hit first. and it wasnt ___… she still ran and got 3rd place. stopping as she crossed the finish line with a frown as tears welled up in her eyes.
‘bronze? i got bronze?’
kylian noticed- immediately keeping it in mind.
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she walked out of the stadium after receiving that bronze medal- headphones in with a defeated look before getting tackled by kylian.
“amour! you did so good!”
“stop ky… im tired.”
“but its true! you did great- i mean bronze at your first olympics? who else can do that?”
“carri’ got silver on hers kylian! its her first too! i wanted gold not bronze- i worked too hard for just bronze!”
kylians face fell as he got quiet, immediately hugging her.
“you still did great amour- i don’t understand why you feel other wise. i get losing is hard but its inevitable! you need loses to win ___ trust me.”
“yea you say that cause you lost the world cup two years ago even though you won it already.”
“youre missing the point here.”
“sorry.”
“look all im saying is that you shouldnt be so hard on yourself cause you didnt get what you exactly wanted- you still ran- you still placed- be proud ___! you worked too hard for this.”
she looked at him with a small smile, finally taking in her win.
“do you want to wear it then?”
“yes- definitely.”
she laughed as she placed the medal around his neck- finding solace in this situation.
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butchyeons · 1 month ago
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hey, just wanted to say i love your works!!
would you be able to write about bratty sub!nayeon getting punished by dom!jihyo for misbehaving (you can pick what she gets punished for :3)
hopefully that’s not too much trouble!!
not too much trouble at all! phew the moment i got this ask i jumped for joy. i had such a clear idea of the fic immediately it’s a bit wild. this was really fun to write, and i really hope you enjoy the direction i went with it. that being said, let’s get into it.
love’s cruelty
a bit of domestic dom/sub nahyo!! ft some communication fuck ups
tags/warnings: there’s a plot i swear, light angst, light dom/sub, mommy kink, nayeon gets called bunny, verbal humiliation, light bondage, spanking, using a belt as a pain method, fingering, punishments, begging, safe words, aftercare, fluff, lots of communication, nayeon is a brat and jihyo is so fucking mean LMAO
i really do want to give a warning that it does get a bit scary for nayeon at one point! a safe word does get used, and they stop it immediately. if that is a bit much for you, feel free to sit this one out. let’s get into it
cishet men and minors dni.
———
Nayeon knew what she was doing was stupid.
It had been weeks since her and Jihyo had gotten to do anything at all. Jihyo had been busy at work, staying late in order to make sure the final yearly sales report was done on time, which led to her almost always crashing as soon as she got home. They had no time together aside from when they finally got into bed. Hell, they didn’t even get to get ready together- Jihyo was always out earlier, the only remnants of her presence in their apartment being the breakfast she always left for Nayeon. She was good at her job- ambitious, always tackled things head on, provided solutions to problems before they even happened. She deserved a lot more than that stupid company would ever give her, really. But as much as Nayeon would always support her, she was needy. She missed her wife so badly. In more ways than one.
So when she found herself alone on a Saturday morning, sipping on the miso soup that Jihyo had made for her before leaving, she knew she needed to do something. Both of them should’ve been off, should’ve spent the day watching stupid dramas made for straight people while cuddled up together on the couch. They should’ve been kissing, should’ve been letting their hands wander, should’ve been…
Ugh.
Nayeon stood at the sink, frowning. As she cleaned her bowl, along with Jihyo’s dishes from earlier, she couldn’t help but think about what she wished they were doing. She could see Jihyo’s face perfectly in her mind; could picture that expression, her eyes hooded as she bit her bottom lip, the one she made when she knew Nayeon was done for. She missed Jihyo’s hands, missed the way her forearms flexed as her fingers were drilling into her, missed the way her palm would press against her clit right as she hit her peak-
Fuck.
Nayeon suddenly registered just how hot the water was on her hands, dropping her bowl into the sink with a yelp. She quickly turned off the faucet, staring at the two, small blue soup bowls. Jihyo had picked them out when they moved in, insisted they had to match everything with the sky blue toaster that Nayeon’s mother had gifted them as a housewarming present. Her heart ached just slightly at the sight.
Jihyo. Jihyo, Jihyo, Jihyo.
She shook her head, pushing the feeling away. The project was almost over, and soon enough she’d be back home, and things would be normal. It was fine, she told herself. It had to be.
When she moved to grab a towel to dry the bowls, she was suddenly very aware of the wetness between her thighs. Great. Another thing to add to her list of shit to deal with that day.
She was pent up. And she wanted Jihyo to do something about it. Good thing she knew exactly how to get what she wanted. If Jihyo wasn’t going to give her attention, wasn’t going to make time for her, she’d force it out of her. Even if it meant she had to break some rules to get it done.
So that’s how she found herself half naked in their bed, wearing nothing but one of Jihyo’s oversized sleep shirts. In one hand was her phone, the other one down between her bare thighs, two fingers pressed deeply inside her. She wasn’t supposed to be touching without permission- that was Jihyo’s number one rule, one that Nayeon hadn’t broken in years. The last time she did, Jihyo fucked her until she nearly passed out. It was some of the best sex they’d ever had. Nayeon needed it now more than ever.
It was so, so stupid.
And so, she stared at their messages, the pictures she’d taken already loaded into the text box. The last text Jihyo had sent her was that morning, the usual “I’ll see you later, have a good day, love you” message that Nayeon was now unhappily accustomed to. She knew exactly how Jihyo would react, exactly what would happen the moment she hit send. It made her heart race, her core practically pulse with excitement.
No turning back now.
She took a deep breath, and hit send. A few moments passed, Nayeon watching with bated breath as the “delivered” icon didn’t change. Her heart skipped a beat the moment it did.
JH 🧡
Im Nayeon. What are you doing?
Gotcha.
NY 🩵
Having some fun. I’m bored all by myself.
Nayeon watched as the text bubble popped up and disappeared a few times. She frowned, finally removing her fingers from herself, bringing them up to her lips to clean them before unceremoniously wiping them off on the bed beside her. Jihyo texted back the moment she was done.
JH 🧡
You know better.
There we go.
NY 🩵
Do I?
JH 🧡
You do.
JH 🧡
You know I’m at work. You could’ve waited until I got home.
Nayeon rolled her eyes. Fuck that.
NY 🩵
Well maybe if you weren’t spending all your time at work, you’d have time to be doing this to me yourself.
NY 🩵
I’ve already finished twice, no thanks to you. It’s a shame you’re not here to help.
Jihyo started typing and then stopped again. Nayeon had to hammer it home.
NY 🩵
Or should I get someone else to do it for you? Since you can’t seem to do it.
NY 🩵
Should I ask Jeongyeon? I’m sure her and Mina wouldn’t mind having me for the day.
It was mean, really. She knew that would hurt- it was one of Jihyo’s biggest insecurities; she thought she wasn’t good enough, would push herself to do better even if it got her hurt. But Nayeon needed her mad. She needed her to come home and ruin her, to fuck some sense into her. She had to make it as bad as she possibly could.
NY 🩵
Or maybe even Sana? Or Momo? What about Tzuyu and Chaeyoung? Hey, even Dahyun. I’m sure they’d all love to help me out in your place.
NY 🩵
They’d probably do a better job, anyways.
Jihyo read every single message, but there wasn’t a reply. Not even the bubble indicating her typing. A minute passed, and then another. Nayeon’s heart sank. Was that too far? Jihyo liked that kind of stuff sometimes. But she’s been so busy, her job was a pain in the ass- she’s probably sensitive, tired. Shit. Nayeon definitely fucked up. Shit, shit, shit.
Before she had time to go to type out an apology, to take everything back and beg for her forgiveness, the selfie of her and Jihyo that she had saved as her contact photo popped up on the screen. Jihyo was calling her. Nayeon just stared at it for a second, almost too scared to answer. A text notification appeared.
JH 🧡
If you don’t answer the phone right now, so help me christ you won’t walk right for a week.
Okay, great. This is exactly what she wanted. Jihyo was fine, hopefully. Just mad, which was a good thing. She could work with this.
She took a deep breath, finally pressing the accept button, putting Jihyo on speaker. She heard a door slam, the sound of Jihyo’s car cranking up, an exasperated sound on the other side of the line. Play it cool.
“Hi baby!” She said, a bit too cheerfully.
“Nayeon- save it. What’s gotten into you?” Jihyo spat out. “What makes you think any of that was acceptable?”
Easy.
“Aw, not even a hello? What’s the matter, baby? Work that bad?”
Jihyo scoffed, the sound crackling over her speakers.
“So first you go touching yourself without permission. Then you say all that bullshit- now you want to act dumb? Really, Nayeon.”
Nayeon hummed.
“Is it bullshit if it’s true? I can’t even remember the last time you’ve touched me, y’know?”
“I’ve been busy.” Jihyo hissed.
“That’s a shame.” Nayeon replied, nonchalantly. She rolled herself over onto her stomach, setting the phone on the pillow beside her. “And I’m feeling quite neglected. You wouldn’t have even known I did that if I hadn’t told you. Would you have even noticed?”
There was a brief pause, the sound of Jihyo’s car humming lowly in the background. She clearly had no argument, no way to fight back. She sighed, frustrated.
“When I get home, you’re getting taught a lesson you won’t forget, and I mean it.”
Her voice was deep, demanding. Nayeon hadn’t heard her this angry in years. It made her ache.
“Is that a promise or a threat, mommy?”
“A promise, bunny.” Her voice dropped to a near whisper. “Little sluts like you need to be reminded how to act, isn’t that right?”
Nayeon smirked.
“Hm. Guess so.”
Perfect.
The call didn’t last much longer. Jihyo gave her instructions, laid out her expectations. Nayeon half agreed to most of them, continuing to tease, pushing the younger girl’s buttons despite knowing full well she’d do exactly what she was told. They played back and forth like that for a few minutes, right up until Jihyo had to go.
God, Nayeon didn’t want her to go.
“Jihyo. Jihyo.” She whined. “I miss you.”
The younger girl just sighed, clearly exhausted. A moment passed before she said anything.
“I know. I miss you, too.” Her voice was low yet soft, incredibly sweet. “You have no idea how bad I miss you, Nay. I promise, just another week, and then it’s back to normal.”
Jihyo always had a magical way of knowing exactly what Nayeon was thinking, feeling. They’d been together for so long, it was just natural. It made Nayeon feel slightly better.
“But I really have to get back to what I was doing. I’m sorry.”
Only slightly.
“It’s okay. I’ll be here when you get home. I love you.”
“I love you, too. I expect you to be waiting.”
Nayeon figured she’d give Jihyo this one thing.
So, like the perfect little angel she usually was, she waited. Well, after getting herself off one more time, cleaning, and then showering. Jihyo texted her to let her know she’d be home around 4 in the afternoon, which gave Nayeon plenty of time to get all of their usual Saturday chores done. Around 3, she looked through her lingerie, settling on the one she knew was Jihyo’s favorite- the black lace set that she had gotten for one of their anniversaries before they got married. She only brought them out for special occasions, and now felt like a good time. Nayeon was ready, waiting in their bed just like she had been told the moment she heard the front door being opened.
She listened as Jihyo walked in, set down her keys, took off her jacket and hung it on the coat rack by the front door. She could hear the younger girl walking through the apartment, first to the kitchen, then to the living room. Her movements were slow, dragged out- she was doing it on purpose, and Nayeon knew that. There was more shuffling, the clear sound of her fidgeting with her belt buckle, right as she got to the bedroom door. She waited for a moment before finally pushing it open.
God, the sight of her in her work clothes never got old. In one hand was her belt, the other hand working on pulling her tie off. The top three buttons of her shirt were already undone, her shirt halfway untucked from her pants, her hair mussed from where she’d clearly been running her hands through it. She looked incredibly fucked out for someone who hadn’t had any sex for weeks, her eyes hooded as she walked into the room, not bothering to close the door behind her.
Hot.
“Hi, baby.” Nayeon said, cocking her head to the side with a smirk, eyeing the clearly exhausted girl now standing before her. “How was work?”
Jihyo didn’t say anything. She finally managed to pull her tie off, the action sending a jolt of need straight down to Nayeon’s core, before walking over to the side of the bed. She dropped the belt on the floor, her expression darkening the moment she locked eyes with the older girl.
“On your knees.”
Nayeon’s smirk grew.
“Bad day?”
Jihyo just blinked, unspeaking. A moment passed, the air in the room thickening. Nayeon didn’t even realize what was happening until Jihyo threw her tie down on the bed beside her, immediately reaching to grab her by the hair. Her grip was firm, the movement rough. It sent pain running down her spine. Nayeon couldn’t help but let out a small cry as she was pulled up onto her knees. Beside her, Jihyo shifted, one knee on the bed as she leaned over so her lips were right next to her ear.
“Is this okay, Nay?” She whispered. “If I go too far, you know the safe word.”
Jihyo was too sweet, really. But that’s not what Nayeon wanted.
“Mhm. Yep. Perfectly fine. I’ve got it.”
“Okay, okay.” She hurriedly whispered before pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I love you.”
Cheesy. Nayeon couldn’t help but sigh incredulously.
“I love you, too, Ji. Now please, keep going.”
Jihyo nodded, taking a breath. In a split second, she was back in it.
“Arms behind your back.”
Her voice was demanding, a bit too loud right next to her ear. But Nayeon didn’t fight back, then. It really was hard to resist Jihyo when she was like that, so she did as she was told, sitting up straight and pressing her forearms together behind her back. Jihyo made quick work of using her tie to bound her wrists together, making sure to press the safety end into Nayeon’s hand, a silent reminder that she could free herself if she needed to.
“How many times did you get off?” Jihyo asked as she pulled away. “Be honest with me, bunny. Or else I won’t make this any easier for you.”
Nayeon tilted her head to the side, looking up at Jihyo and smirking.
“Only three. But I easily could’ve made it four, or five.”
Jihyo sighed, walking away from the bed. She crossed over to their closet, rummaging around, paying Nayeon no mind as she shifted several boxes on the top shelf around.
“Sucks you weren’t here, mommy.” Nayeon added, watching as she finally pulled out the box they kept all their toys in. “I hope you enjoyed the pictures I sent you. It felt so good, even though you weren’t here to watch.”
Jihyo finally looked over her shoulder, her eyebrow raised.
“Is that so?”
Nayeon nodded.
“Mhm. And all I needed were my fingers.”
Jihyo looked back down, grabbing something that Nayeon couldn’t see. She walked back over to the bed, holding whatever it was behind her back.
“It’s a shame, really.” Nayeon said as she finally rejoined her. “Didn’t even have you, but I still felt good.”
She looked up, grinning. Jihyo kept a straight face, standing firmly. That wouldn’t do. Nayeon needed to keep going.
“I think I do it better on my own, anyways.”
Jihyo didn’t react. It wasn’t enough. But Nayeon knew exactly what to say next.
“I don’t even need you.”
At that, Jihyo’s breath hitched, and for half a second, her expression faltered, the hurt on her face clear. She struck a nerve with that one. The pit in Nayeon’s stomach came back.
Too far.
“Ji, I-”
“Shut up.”
Nayeon froze up. She’d heard Jihyo angry before, sure. But Nayeon had only ever heard that tone a handful of times in all the years she’d known her. Jihyo wasn’t just angry, she was pissed.
It was so, so hot.
Jihyo sighed, finally moving to show Nayeon what she was holding. In her hand was their wand vibrator. The moment Nayeon nodded, giving her the silent confirmation that this was okay, Jihyo turned it on to its lowest setting. She reached behind her, grabbing a pillow, moving it so that it was in front of Nayeon, the corners of it just barely meeting the insides of her thighs. She put the toy down so it was positioned facing her core, before grabbing Nayeon by the hair again.
“H-Hey, what are you-”
Jihyo cut her off by tugging her forward, dragging her just enough so that her core was pressed against the head of the toy. Immediately, Nayeon moaned out at the sensation, her body crumbling over on itself, earning a scoff from Jihyo.
“So easy.”
Nayeon let out another small whimper, pressing herself down further against the vibrator. The sensation was light, made even lighter by the fact that she was still in her panties. It was enough to give her some sensation while driving her downright insane. It was mean, really. And Jihyo fully knew that.
“Really, such a pathetic display, bunny.”
Nayeon looked up, watching as her wife crossed the room. The movement caused her to press down just slightly more, her breath hitching, a weak whimper catching somewhere in her throat. Jihyo just huffed, clearly amused.
“Since you want to get off so fucking badly-” She said, pulling over the chair from Nayeon’s makeup table, placing it directly in front of the bed. “You can get off.”
Jihyo stood in front of it, staring at Nayeon as she slowly began to unbutton the rest of her shirt.
“But I’m not touching you at all. All you’ll be getting is the wand, since you seem to think you can do it better without me. And don’t even think about asking me to turn it up.”
“W-Wait, Ji-”
“That’s not how you address me.”
Nayeon whimpered, her knees already sore from the position she was in, causing her to press down harder onto the toy.
“Mommy. This isn’t- this isn’t fair.”
“Fair?” Jihyo said, finally pulling her shirt off and tossing it aside. “You think you deserve to be treated fairly? After all you said and did?”
Nayeon mashed her lips together, squeezing her eyes shut as her head fell. Both of them knew the answer, but Jihyo kept going.
“I don’t think so. You’re such a brat, so ungrateful. Such a little slut. Can’t just take what’s given to you, too stupid to follow the very few rules I’ve given you.”
This wasn’t normal for them, really. Nayeon got punishments, sure. She liked it, liked the name calling, liked the pain. But this was different. Jihyo sounded genuinely mad. Her words stung, but not in the good way, not in the way that left her breathless and itching for more. It felt like she got shoved into the deep end of a cold pool when she barely knew how to swim. They hurt, they scared her. This wasn’t what she wanted. Not at all.
But fuck, it felt so good to finally have Jihyo to herself. To know that she was the center of her attention, to know that she wanted her like this. To know Jihyo wanted her at all. It was easy to ignore the chill that ran up her spine when she knew Jihyo would be there to keep her warm.
“Since you’ve already cum three times, let’s double it. I expect six more.”
At least, usually Jihyo would be there.
Nayeon whined, her head whipping up. The sudden movement caused the vibrator to move away, the loss of sensation even worse than having it pressed directly against her. Her whole body twitched, her hips bucking as she desperately tried to get it back.
“M-Mommy, I can’t- it’s not- it’s not enough. I’ll- I’ll be here for hours trying!”
“Then so be it.” Jihyo deadpanned. She finally slipped her pants off, leaving herself in just her bra and underwear. “I’ve got all night. I wasn’t even planning on going in tomorrow, y’know? If you had just waited patiently like the good girl I know you are, you wouldn’t be in this situation.”
Fuck. Nayeon was fucked. There was no way out of this. Jihyo was stubborn, always had to be right, to be in control. Nayeon was the same way, really. If she wasn’t, she wouldn’t be here right now.
Jihyo was right- if she had just been fucking patient, been good, she’d probably have Jihyo’s hands on her, her mouth against hers while Jihyo was taking such good care of her. Not this. The absence of her partner, of the woman she loved the most above everything else, was going to drive her mad. It already had, clearly. She felt so, so stupid.
So it made it even worse to know that Jihyo was right fucking there. She just wasn’t giving Nayeon that grace. Nayeon lost her chance at that the moment she said she didn’t need her.
How wrong she was.
“I had other ideas before your little stunt earlier, bunny.” Jihyo said, finally sitting down in the chair. She propped one of her feet up on the seat, her knee pressing against her chest. “Wanted to come home and give you exactly what you’d been missing. I could tell you were pent up, and I felt so bad about it. And I missed you, too.”
Nayeon looked up, her teeth sinking down into her bottom lip as she tried to contain a pitiful whimper. She pressed her hips down, seeking out something, anything against her core. Despite everything, she could feel how soaked she was against the fabric of her panties, could feel how her clit pulsed with need, the knot in her abdomen pulled tight but not enough to break. It was torture. It felt so good. She had no idea how she felt about it.
“So you’re going to put on a show for me.” Jihyo said, locking eyes with her. “Beg all you want, but I’m not moving until you’ve finished.”
Nayeon whined, lurching forward, pressing down as hard as she could.
“P-Please, mommy I-” She could feel tears already pricking at the corners of her eyes. “I can’t do this- I- I need you.”
Jihyo tutted, her head cocked to the side. She made a show of moving her hand down between her thighs, brushing it against the front of her underwear before using her other hand to pull them to the side. Nayeon practically salivated at the sight of her- her clit was stiff and she was clearly wet, her folds practically glistening in the afternoon light that drifted in from the bedroom windows. She slowly drug her middle finger from her entrance up to her clit, circling it a few times, taunting her poor bunny.
“But that’s not what you said earlier, is it, baby?” She said with a smirk, her voice breathy from where she was teasing herself. “I thought you didn’t need me to get off? You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?”
Nayeon let out another frustrated whine, shaking her head. Part of her wanted to fight, wanted to maintain the ego she gave herself earlier when she was texting her. But she just couldn’t. She really fucking couldn’t.
“I’m so sorry. I- I was wrong.” She said, her jaw clenching as she sat back up. The shift pushed the vibrator away just slightly, the lack of sensation causing her to nearly collapse again. “I was s-so wrong, Jihyo, please.”
Jihyo rolled her eyes. She pulled her hand away from her core, and, much to Nayeon��s surprise, stood up. She walked over beside the bed, holding the finger she was using to touch herself up to Nayeon’s mouth.
“Clean it.”
Nayeon barely let her finish the command before complying, taking the digit into her mouth and swirling her tongue around it. It brought her some level of comfort to just taste her, to have her in some way. The earthiness and musk of her essence were so familiar, so warm, addicting. But before she could actually savor it, Jihyo was taking her hand back, the ease she felt going along with it.
She moved away again, bending down beside the bed to grab something. Nayeon didn’t look, too busy trying to press herself back down against the wand. Beside her, Jihyo moved again, her free hand finding the back of Nayeon’s head, gripping her hair tightly. She pulled her back up, finally showing her what she was holding.
Her belt.
“If you need my help so bad, I’ll help.” Jihyo said, her voice cold, annoyed. “But it’ll be with this.”
Nayeon would’ve normally been embarrassed by the sound she made, something between a whimper and a groan, entirely pathetic. Jihyo let her hair go, moving to turn the vibrator up by a few settings. She quickly pressed her hand against Nayeon’s shoulder, easing her onto her stomach, making sure the wand was pressed right against where she needed it the most, the pillow helping to keep her ass up in the air. Nayeon wiggled around a bit, tugging at the tie that was still holding her wrists together, but eventually gave up, surrendering herself fully to that fuzzy feeling that was growing in both her brain and her stomach. It was easier to ignore the alarms in her head when she did that.
“My, my, bunny.” Jihyo cooed, her hand roaming down Nayeon’s exposed side. “You look pretty like this. It’s a shame I can’t be nicer to you.”
I need the niceness, Nayeon thought. More than anything else, I need you to be nice to me.
She didn’t say anything back. She just let it happen. She needed to cum, anyways. Six wouldn’t be hard, right? She liked pain. She liked overstimulation. She liked Jihyo’s cruelty, liked her games. All of it was done with so much love, usually. Right now, though, it didn’t feel the same. But she deserved this. She was bad, she deserved to be punished.
Right?
When Jihyo’s hand finally gripped her ass, her mind went completely blank. She pressed Nayeon down harder against the toy, which was now doing a much better job at getting her off. It was great, it was just what she needed. Her body trembled, her hips instinctively bucking, the sensation almost all too much when-
“One.” Nayeon whimpered out, the knot in her stomach finally snapping as her first orgasm washed over her.
Jihyo didn’t let her up. She kept her hand firm against her, kept her pressed down against it. It was fine while it happened, but the moment she crossed the peak, it became all too much. She felt like an electrical current was running through her veins, burning through her body up to her skin. It was somewhat nice, but still.
“Ji- mommy, it’s- it’s too-”
Jihyo moved her hand away. Nayeon tried to chase the feeling of her against her, tried to move her hips back, to sit up on her knees without using her hands. She regretted it.
The harsh leather of the belt met the soft flesh of her ass in an instant, the pain sending her reeling back down onto the vibrator. She let out a cry, her fists clenching together, her knuckles white as she held onto herself for dear life.
“You take what’s given to you, bunny.”
Jihyo sounded entirely unlike herself. Suddenly the fear was outweighing the pleasure.
“Five more, Nay. You can handle that, surely. Can’t you?”
Could she?
Nayeon looked over her shoulder, finally locking eyes with Jihyo. The tears were making it hard to make her out, her vision blurry from the wetness, her mind cloudy from the pain. The vibrator was still whirring against her, which both eased and wound her right back up. It felt good.
But Jihyo wasn’t with her.
Jihyo wasn’t on her.
Jihyo wasn’t fixing her.
Jihyo. Jihyo, Jihyo, Jihyo. All she ever wanted was Jihyo. And right now, this certainly didn’t feel like the Jihyo she knew.
“Answer me.”
All it took was another slap of the belt against her for Nayeon to break. She cried out, her second orgasm crashing into her as she desperately gasped for air. Her whole body lurched forward, tears finally pouring down her face as she babbled out something that Jihyo didn’t quite catch.
“What was that? Too stupid to speak?” She taunted, running her hand along the red marks that now adorned Nayeon’s backside. “Is it too much already, bunny?”
Yes.
“Four more.”
No.
“God, you’re so pathetic.”
Stop.
Nayeon couldn’t do it anymore. Everything was too much, everything hurt in the worst way possible. This wasn’t what she wanted- she never wanted this. She wanted Jihyo. Her sweet, gentle, loving girl. The girl she married, the girl who guided her through the worst parts of her life and stayed by her side through it all. The girl who taught her it was okay to love who she loved, who taught her the true meaning of softness. The girl who worked her ass off to make sure she was cared for, to make sure their lives would never go without stability. She missed her terribly. She needed her now.
With a shaky breath, Nayeon looked over her shoulder again. Her face scrunched up in pain the moment she looked at Jihyo, but she managed to gather every single nerve in her body when she finally spoke.
“Doughnut.”
Within seconds, Jihyo was pulling her up. Nayeon released the safety end of the tie that was binding her wrists together, freeing herself from her restraints as Jihyo pulled the pillow and vibrator away. She sat back on her knees, everything finally hitting her as she just sobbed. Jihyo quickly cut the toy off, practically throwing it down to the end of the bed before joining her, climbing in beside her.
“Nay- Nayeon, hey.” Her voice was calm, even. Soothing, more than anything. “Look at me. What do you need? Can you speak?”
Nayeon looked up, finally locking eyes with Jihyo. She looked so guilty, scared. Nayeon was too gone to really say anything, tears still streaming down her cheeks. The only thing she could do was hold out her arms. And yet, Jihyo understood. She always understood.
She helped Nayeon lay back on the bed, crawling up beside her and pulling her in close, Nayeon’s face resting against her chest. She pressed a few kisses to the top of her head, holding her tightly as she whispered out apology after apology, reassurance after reassurance. After a few minutes, Nayeon had calmed herself down. She pushed herself up, pulling away so she could look at her wife.
“I’m sorry, Ji.” Nayeon said, sniffling. “I got- I got so scared. You sounded so mad. I couldn’t…”
Jihyo shook her head.
“Nay, baby, it’s okay. You have nothing to apologize for. I’m so sorry I got so angry, I just…” She sighed. “God, that’s not like me at all.”
Nayeon leaned forward and kissed her forehead before moving back to rest against her. Jihyo’s arms wrapped around her shoulders, keeping her pressed as close as she could be.
“I know it’s not you, Ji.” Nayeon sighed out. “I’m sorry for upsetting you. That wasn’t fair of me. You’ve been so busy, and I was a brat for doing what I did.”
Jihyo made a sound of protest, shaking her head. She didn’t say anything, though. She was letting Nayeon have her time.
“I didn’t mean any of what I said. It’s just-” Nayeon spoke the best she could, her voice cracking as the tears from before came back. “I missed you, I wanted your attention. I’m sorry I went about it like that- I didn’t know what else to do.”
Nayeon finally looked up at Jihyo. She was giving her that look. The one she gave her when she was worried, the one that Nayeon knew was pure adoration.
“Hey, hey. Baby, it’s okay.” Jihyo whispered, her hand immediately finding Nayeon’s cheek, thumbing away her tears. “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to give it to you. I missed you, too. More than you’d ever know. I love you so, so much.”
She paused, frowning.
“I poured all my energy into work and that wasn’t fair to you. You deserve it, too. More than that stupid company does, that’s for sure.” She took a second, inhaling and exhaling through her teeth. “What you don’t deserve is my anger. I’m so mad about work, so mad about how they’re treating me. Home is the one place where I have you. And I brought that anger home. And then you said that stuff… And then I just… Took it out on you…”
Her voice trailed off, her brows furrowed as she looked away.
“I went too far, Nay. I hurt you in a way that was scary for you, and I’m so sorry.”
Nayeon sat up fully then, wiping her own tears off with her arm before she took Jihyo’s face in her hands.
“Jihyo, you’ve been nothing but good to me the entire time I’ve known you.” She said, making Jihyo look at her. “What happened wasn’t normal for either of us, we clearly both went too far. We’re both mad about the situation we’re in, and took it out on each other. But it’s okay now. I forgive you completely, I still trust you, nothing will ever change that.”
Jihyo looked at her for a moment, really looked at her, before her eyes started to well with tears. She pouted as a few began to fall, her bottom lip poking out as she whined.
“I’m supposed to be the one comforting you, Nay.”
Nayeon rolled her eyes, laughing as she wiped the younger girl’s tears away before leaning down and kissing her softly, deeply. For the first time in weeks, she felt like Jihyo was with her fully.
That’s what she’d wanted all along.
“You know you don’t have to be the one to do everything all the time, baby.” Nayeon whispered between kisses. “I can handle it when you can’t. And right now, you deserve a break.”
Jihyo hummed out a reply, pressing herself up to kiss Nayeon better. She parted her lips just enough for Nayeon to press her tongue into her mouth, practically whimpering at the feeling. The kiss went from gentle to deep to a little too intense a bit fast, both of them finally pulling away for air the moment their teeth clattered together. Nayeon sat back on her knees, laughing at how red Jihyo’s face was, how she was blushing as if they hadn’t ever kissed before. Jihyo waved her arms around in protest, shouting a string of embarrassed “unnie, cut it out”s as she playfully swatted at Nayeon.
This was what Nayeon had been missing, more than anything else. Having Jihyo by her side, taking care of one another in the most mundane ways possible. She took Jihyo’s hands in her own, holding them down as she pressed her wife into the mattress, kissing her again. And again, and again.
That was enough for now. They didn’t really need to talk about it any further, it was clear how both of them felt. The incident was over, they would move on. That’s how it always went with them- they’d butt heads, talk about it, move on, keep the lessons they learned in mind. Jihyo never made the same mistake twice, and Nayeon never let herself get caught up on the past. That’s why they worked so well, why they could get as rough as they did with one another. If Jihyo was the one inflicting the pain, she was the one to help Nayeon heal. If Nayeon was going to take it, she’d always make how she really felt known. Communication, fully. And they hadn’t been doing as good of a job at that lately.
“Nayeon, baby.” Jihyo pleaded between kisses. She didn’t put up a real fight. “Let me run you a bath and make dinner.”
It was alright now, though.
Nayeon hummed, kissing her again.
“I showered earlier, but I guess it’s only fair.” She said, her lips still halfway pressed against Jihyo’s. “But I said you deserve a break, y’know?”
Jihyo whined as Nayeon pulled away.
“Why can’t my break be getting to take care of you?”
Nayeon swore that Park Jihyo was the only person on planet earth who spend her time off from her job where she’s constantly fixing things for others by doing things for others. Or really, doing things for her. Or for Jeongyeon. But that’s the privilege she got as their best friend of over a decade, for putting up with them for as long as she has. Still, though- this was about Jihyo.
“Fine.” Nayeon huffed out. “But I want you to take a bath with me. I need to wash your hair. It’s greasy.”
Jihyo rolled her eyes, smiling.
“Whatever you say, princess.”
So finally, after a bit more kissing, and a bit of letting their hands wander, both of them got up. Nayeon stretched her arms out over her head, cracking her back (while ignoring Jihyo’s passing comment about how she was getting “too old to handle her”), before letting Jihyo pull her off to their bathroom. She leaned against the counter as Jihyo started the water, which caused her to finally register just how badly her ass hurt when it made contact with the cold granite.
“Oh my god, Jihyo. You ruined my ass.” Nayeon hissed, standing back up straight, running her hand over the bruised skin. “Why did you use the damn belt? We have a paddle and a crop.”
Jihyo looked up from the tub, her lips mashed together in embarrassment.
“It felt right in the moment.”
Nayeon just laughed, exasperated. She finally walked over next to Jihyo, taking off her bra and underwear, tossing them aside, a bit too casually considering how much she’d paid for them.
“I mean, it was pretty hot.”
Jihyo smiled up at her, brightly. Soon enough they were in the tub together, Nayeon between Jihyo’s legs, her back against the younger girl’s front as they just enjoyed each other’s presence. The water was nice, warm, soothing Nayeon’s damaged skin and relaxing her tight muscles. Jihyo had her chin resting on Nayeon’s shoulder, her arms around her waist, occasionally leaning in to press kisses against her neck. It wasn’t meant to be anything more than sweet, but still, after not getting exactly what she wanted, Nayeon found herself getting wound right back up. And Jihyo figured it out fast, noticing how she started shifting, squeezing her thighs together. Nayeon didn’t stop her when her hands drifted, one going up to cup her breast while the other one went down, her fingers delicately running along her slit before dipping inside.
“Jihyo, please.” Nayeon groaned out, her head falling back against Jihyo’s shoulder.
She didn’t have to say exactly what she needed. Jihyo knew. Just like she always did.
“Shh, baby.” She whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple as her fingers pumped in and out of her. “I’ve got you. You’re the only thing I care about right now. I’m not going anywhere.”
And really, that’s what Nayeon needed to hear, more than anything else.
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