#the track/cargo pants are somethin too

[fauna-and-floraa]

Bang Chan 'Easy' Focus, SBS Inkigayo.

[babayagakeanu]

How Will I Know? -part two

Pairing: Jethro Gibbs/reader

Summary: In which the reader finds out that Gibbs is in fact, in love with her too

Warnings: smut, NSFW 18+, oral receiving(female)

It’s been three weeks since your discussion with Gibbs, and he’s been giving you the silent treatment all those 21 days. It was agony, and you felt so small whenever you were near him. His hard gaze towards you made you overthink and regret ever opening up to him like that, and it made it even harder to do your job with Abby. Forensics was hard enough, Gibbs made it even harder when he kept entering the office every hour. 

“Abs! What do ya got?” He says, entering your shared office in a swift motion. You watch the two as they interact, Abby sharing the details of the prints you two had found on the Vic’s jacket. 

“Great job, Abs. Y/n, I expect you to do the same.” Your blood boils at Gibbs’ remark, but you swallow your pride and continue to work on finding DNA matches. Abby looks over to you and grimaces. “He didn’t take it well, did he?” He didn’t at all, you think, acted like a big baby about it. 

You sigh, looking down at your sample and face her. “No he didn’t. He’s been giving me harder tasks and giving me the silent treatment for almost a month.” You swivel in your chair before getting up to continue your rant. “Abby, I thought  Gibbs and I were close. He opened up to me about more than he’s ever opened up to any of you guys, no offense.” 

“None taken!” She responds. “Maybe he’s processing it, giving it some time to swish around in his little noggin. If it gets to a point where you can’t take it anymore, talk to him, y/n. You deserve closure, at the least.” She hugs you, patting you on the crown of your head before getting back to work. The work day proceeds the same, catching the suspect before the two day period runs out. 

———-

It was midnight when you guys had finished, and you and Gibbs were the only ones left at your desks. It’s been hell working in silence; usually you two would find something to talk about, maybe you would ask him about his boat or he would ask you about your latest puzzle. Either way, it was awkward and uncomfortable. 

“Gibbs?” You ask, the waver in your voice instantly detectable. 

He doesn’t look up from his paperwork. “Yes, y/L/n?” He hasn’t said called you by your last name since you were a probie, and that was the last straw.

You shift in your seat, “I think it’s about high time you give me an explanation!” His head snaps up, a glare already storming in his steely blue eyes. “I’ve been honest with you on how I felt about you. Was it the perfect time and place? No. But I don’t regret it. The only thing that I regret about this is letting you leave without telling me the truth.” He’s silent for a moment, trying to call your bluff; only to be found with tears in your eyes and the devastation wreaking havoc on the color of them.

It’s not long until he gets up, reaching to your desk in a few long strides. You can feel your heart hammering in you chest, and the nervousness ate at the pit of your stomach.

“Jethro, are you-?” He yanks you up with one hand, not too rough, but enough to pull you flat to his chest , the warmth of his body seeping into your skin. You smell him; sawdust and bourbon. Smoky with just a hint of manliness.

“I have tried incredibly hard to keep my distance from you because all I want to do is kiss you.” You knew Gibbs wasn’t one for words but even the simplest of sentences behold the deepest meanings. You looked into his eyes, memorizing the image of yourself reflecting back at you, hoping that you will be for his eyes only now on.

“Then kiss me,” you say, craning your neck for him as he dips into your mouth, growling at the taste of your lips against his. His hands travel further, cupping both of your ass cheeks and pressing you into him. You gasp into his mouth, scratching at the base of Jethro’s neck.

“Jethro, please I-“ You whine, backing up into your computer desk, careful of knocking down the computer. “What do you need, babygirl?” You could feel the corner of something digging into your back but you didn’t care. 

“I want you. All of you.” You say, against his lips that were still currently attacking yours.Your hands found their way under his shirt, feeling the warmth and rigidness of his muscled back. His lips leaves yours, dragging a whine out of you from the loss of contact. 

“Meet me at my place, tomorrow evening. Dinner’s on me, you bring the bourbon.” He leaves you a sweet kiss, another following on the corner of your mouth. You pack up and are about to leave when he stops you. “By the way, you were never just a friend to me.”

You sigh, grinning up at him. “You sure you don’t want to come to my place? I can think of a few ways to prove myself to you. Well, more or less, show you.” He smirks, chuckling before playing with the strap of your bra, peeking out from underneath your short sleeve top. 

“Well, as much as I believe you can show me, I also believe in the art of suspense and surprise. So, tomorrow at eight.” 

——————————————————————————————————

The time to go over Gibbs’ place tonight was almost upon you, the hour hand reaching 6:30. You were in the shower, currently listening to every power-up song there was, and scrubbing your skin until it was red. Once you knew that you’ve been in the shower for way too long, you stepped out, wrapping a fluffy towel around you and hurried to your bedroom to pick out your outfit. You didn’t want to dress up to much, knowing that Jethro would most likely be wearing a button up t-shirt and jeans. You settled on a tight black shirt, paired with simple blue jeans. You had opted to curl your hair, letting it fall into loose waves and for your makeup, simple but with a bold red lip. It was 7:30 by the time you were done getting ready, so you packed up the bottle of wine and headed to his his house.

The phone rang a few times before he picked up. “Yeah, Gibbs.” 

“You still answer your phone like that with your significant others?” You say, smiling as you turn down his street. 

“Who said you were my girlfriend?” He asks, the joking evident in the way he chuckles at the end. 

“Well, what I’m wearing under my clothes and the way you kissed me last night said otherwise.” You park your car in his driveway. “Now open up Marine or I’m leavin’.” The phone call ends and the door opens, revealing Jethro, who actually looked like sex on legs. He donned a jean button up, and cargo pants. 

“Wow.” Is all he says, watching as your chest gleamed under the light of his kitchen. “Wow, yourself.” You respond, leaning in to kiss his jaw. “You looking like that makes me wanna skip dinner and get to the fun stuff.” He smiles, looking down at your smirking face. “Well, if you keep talkin’ like that, I might end up being hungry for somethin’ else.” He leads you to the kitchen were he made an excellent dinner of steak, potatoes, and some veggies. 

“Why did I known you were a meat and potatoes kind of guy?” You quip, watching as he smirks at you before cutting into his steak. 

“I’m a simple man, y/n. I know what I like.” You knew that his last sentence has a double entendres, and it makes the corners of your mouth quirk up a bit. 

“I don’t doubt that you do.” You say, and the two of you eat your dinner in a comfortable manner, it felt natural, like you knew that fate had brought you together, but you wouldn’t tell him that, not yet. You still had the fear of losing him, of him pushing you away like he did with his ex-wives, and you didn’t want to ever be referred to as Jethro’s ex-wife. 

“Something on your mind?” He asks, cutting through the silence and shaking you out of your head. 

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just thinking.” You shrug, forking more veggies into your mouth. 

“Nothing is always something. What are you thinking about?” he puts his fork down and rest his elbows on the table, folding his hands. You sigh, putting your fork down.

“It’s gonna sound embarrassing if I tell you.” 

“No, it won’t.”

“Well,” you begin, the fear in your throat rising. “You know how I feel about you, and I’m just thinking about why I took this job in the first place. I love forensics and working with Abs is just one of the many perks of the job.”

He laughs, “ She is a character.” 

“But, I think the biggest perk there was, is you.” You look up at him, and find him walking up to your chair, and lifting you up from it. “Yeah, I think I’d agree too.” His hands ghost up your arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake. His lips find your neck, leaving wet, hot kisses causing you to moan softly and grab his biceps in an attempt to stable yourself. 

“Jethro...” you mumble, watching as he stares down at you with his steely blue eyes, looking at how the icy blue ring deepens with lust. His lips are on yours in a flash, and something tells you he couldn’t handle not kissing you for long. You match his pace, a kiss full of gnashing teeth and hot breath. Your hands reach up to wrap around his neck. “God, you taste so good, J.” You feel his shit-eating grin on your lips before you pull away.

You grab the bottle of wine and two glasses. “Meet me upstairs in ten minutes.” You wink at him before walking off upstairs, not without adding an extra sway to your hips. 

———————-

The Marine had finished cleaning up dinner in record time, and you had finished putting lotion all over your body, brushing your teeth, and positioned yourself in just your panties on his bed; they were lace, of course. It was when you heard Jethro coming up the stairs that the excitement starts eating at the pit of your stomach. You’re sipping on your third glass of wine when he opens the door and stops in his tracks when he sees you.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” He states, his eyebrows raised with a smirk. “you’re looking real pretty right about now.” He can tell your nipples are perked, and are in desperate need of attention. “Well, don’t just stand there with your mouth open, come put it to good use, mister.” He smirks, his hands in his pockets as the tightness in his pants grew, he felt it as he was walking towards you. Shoving his socks and shoes off, he climbs on the bed, taking your wine glass and sipping it with once again, a smirk. Setting your wine glass on the bedside table, he envelops your lips in a fiery kiss, licking into your mouth and tasting the Cabernet on your tongue. His hands find your hips, squeezing as he breaks contact with your lips. He sits up as you climb into his lap, your arms ghosting over his broad shoulders meanwhile grinding into his bulge. 

“I love you,” you remind him, watching as his lips turn into this wide smile, as if the heavens opened up to him, and that would be alright because he could die a happy man right about now. 

“I love you, too.” He kisses you, and maybe you were just in a daze but you felt every emotion in his kiss. As if he was telling you something without actually telling you. His lips trail further down your collarbone, sending chills through your spine and when he reaches your taut nipples, it causes you to let out a high-pitched gasp. His tongue swirls around your teased bud, nipping it a little.

“For years, I’ve dreamt of knowing what was under these clothes of yours, and you know what? My imagination is nowhere close to the real thing.” He lays you down, watching as your hair cascades against his pillow. “I’m gonna show you what it’s like to be with a man, sweetheart.” You giggle at him, but it’s suppressed once he dives into your pussy. Licking and sucking at the small bundle of nerves you know most men can’t find. 

“Oh, Jethro!” You gasp, hands tangling themselves into his short silver locks. “Just like that... just like that” you mumble, his fingers working your tight hole, hot, wet, and tight. You were nearing your release when he releases his fingers and mouth, coming back up to kiss you before shedding off the rest of his clothes. “Wha-” he smirks down at you, before tugging at his cock, entering you  in a swift motion. Your gasp was swallowed by another kiss, but he didn’t move, allowing you to adjust to his larger size. Once you tap his shoulder, he moves, slowly but gradually picking up pace once he hears your tiny whimpers and mewls.

“So fucking tight,” he adds, his sharp and heavy thrusts causing your breasts to bounce, and his large hand moved from the pillow by your head to capture your breast. You left out a high-pitched moan as his thrust sends you into overdrive, nails scraping at his shoulders while you moan out his name like a mantra.

“Good girl,” he moans, getting close to his end as well. His thrusts start to sloppy and with a guttural groan, he comes, spilling his hot seed inside you.

——————————————————-

Your fingers were trailing his face, committing his looks to memory, as if one day you’d wake up and he wouldn’t be there. You’re figuring he’s doing the same since he’s looking at you like you’re the only one in the world who’s made him feel so strongly about someone. There were no need for words, because everything has already been said.

———————————————————————-

Taglist: @minninugget @bandgeek88

[the-fiction-witch]

Below

MOVIE MAZE RUNNER  COUPLE NEWT X READER  RATING SWEET AF

I ran as fast as my little feet would carry me, hurrying my feet through the circular tunnels I did my best to stay as quiet as I possibly could hearing the little sounds of the water dripping down from cracks in the stone above me. The stone still here but much of it dirty and broken, the mortar between each black with mold and age, the walls standing with only the frames of advertisement the posters within them rotted to nothing. I froze as I heard steps thought the tunnels.

I grabbed my knife holding it close to me turning my lamp down as low as It would go I staied low and quiet listening only to the sounds of my breath. 

"What are you doin' down here Love?" His voice spoke in the darkness 

"Who are you? What do you want?" I whispered before a bright white light shined across the tunnel making me cover my eyes 

"Love. It's me" he sighed I looked up and saw the familiar sight Newt. Stood at the end of the tunnel with his white light torch, his boots against the stone, his tattered old cargo pants loose from him held up with half broken and half repaired suspenders over his shoulders and the belt that held his knife. His old torn red vest tight to his skinny skin his arms thick with mud and blood, tires covering him in odd places, his helmet sat on his head 

"What are you doing down here?"

"Looking' for you, the damn hell you think I'm doin' down here having a tea party?" 

"You didn't need to come looking for me" I sighed getting up putting my knife away and walking towards him 

"Yes I did." He sighed grabbing something out his back pocket and throwing it to me, I caught it and had a look it was my map "you always leave without it. One of these days-"

"What? You think I'll get lost?" 

".... Just. Don't forget it Love" he sighed turning to head back out the tunnel 

"What makes you think I'm so incapable of looking after myself?" I complained hurrying after him 

"The fact you went tunnel claimin' with no map, no food, no water, no walkie usin' only the lantern. Makes me think you can't take care if yourself" 

"I was fine"

"You wouldn't have been. I hadn't found you" 

"I don't need you to protect me."

"You don't. But you still need my help" he said "come on I'll take you back"

"I know the way back" I pouted hitching my thighs and heading down the left passage

"And I see you wanna drown?" He laughs

"What?"

"Your headin' down, that's been flooded two years now. I'll lead then." He rolled his eyes heading down the right passge 

"I knew that" I groaned following him though the passages the rounded tunnels and stairwells before getting to a long since abandoned place it had been left to rot even before all this happened or so I had heard. Newt jumped down first and offered his hands but I jumped down myself 

"Only tryin' to help," he says as we walked between the large metal down into the darkness he clicked on his white light making me hiss a little "you really hate it don't you?"

"It stings that's all" I said 

"It will. You're a below baby." He laughs 

"A old one"

"Well old is irrelevant, you're still born below. You've never seen light up there… real light. Only ever known the darkness down here" he said as we arrived at the little train he unlocked the door and climbed inside helping me up with him into the hoard of junk he called a home. Little things where everywhere, his bed unmade, a lantern on in the window, some food in odd places half eaten, his clothes scattered about a line across a section with laundry hanging "when did you last eat somethin'" he asks 

"I'm not hungry"

"I didn't ask that" 

"Two days"

"Here" he sighed fixing me some porridge handing me the bowl and a spoon, I rolled my eyes taking it having a seat on the old train seats he had for a bed moving his blankets away as he stood fixing himself a coffee I began to tuck in forcing the tasteless food down "Y/n?"

"What Newt?' I sighed knowing I was getting a talking too he only calls me that when he does he was silent a moment holding his cup in his hands pondering something in his head before putting the coffee down slipping his helmet off letting loose his blonde locks 

"You heard about angel?"

"The place or the person"

"Person" he says sipping his coffee 

"Yeah, I heard"

"That's the forth one now"

"I know, second generation of below"

"I suddenly feel really old"

"You are old, so am I"

"You're not as old as you think you are. Your first gen below Love. Your still young" 

"Last of the above born" 

"Don't call me that"

"You are. I hate admitted what I am but you remind me. Sometimes I have to remind you too" 

"I know." He said a small smile cracking his lip 

"You ever gonna? You know?"

"Why bother. More important things to do" he said "and… down here doesn't need another mouth to feed. We got enough problems feeding ourselves" 

"True. But still"

"No. Bigger problems"

"Never?"

"Never."

"How old are you now?"

"Old enough to know better."

"Fine. Be like that" I sighed handing back the now empty bowl and spoon "why did you come find me?"

"You left your map and I knew you'd took your-"

"Newt. Why did you come find me?"

"... I missed you" he says rubbing his arm "I'm allowed to get worried about you alright?" He says "and I do. Worry about you I mean when you go off on your own"

"I can handle myself"

"I know you can. But if somethin' happened. I'd rather be with you" 

"Fine. Sorry Newt"

"For what?"

"Worrying you"

"You always worry me Y/n" he smiled to me "could you… tonight?" He asked carefully 

I nodded patting the space beside me he nodded and went across to behind his hanging clothes I got up going to the side getting some clean water warming it enough to make sure it was clean but letting it cool enough it wouldn't burn to the touch he returned sitting on the bed shirtless his suspenders gone too I clean my hands before I took the bowl going to sit beside him getting my little cloth I pushed back some of his blonde locks until I found the heavy still red scar, his stitches still there where they would never truly heal it was a large gash that almost split his head it hurt him daily and had to be cleaned to prevent infection even if parts had been removed before from rot and infection I carefully cleaned it doing my best not to hurt him even if he would often squeeze on my other wrist when I pressed to hard or whenever he felt a strong pain I did my best making sure it was alright before fixing his hair back so it became unnoticeable, I pressed a little kiss to his hair where the scar laid before getting up to put the water back 

"Thanks Love"

"Your welcome. I need to go anyway long walk home" I said 

"I know" he nodded fixing his hair a little to hide his scar better he stood and I went to the door he loomed over me a moment 

"Yes?"

"Did you want me to walk you home?" He asks putting a hand on his helmet

"No. You stay here I'll see you around Newt" I told him he nods so I climbed down out the old train giving him a wave as I headed down the old tracks.

I followed the old tracks as far as they would go passing places once known as platforms and stations all of them build up inhabited by those of us who live below I walked until the last platform climbing up and going through the tunnels up to that various lines and stations few still remained on the boards the bulbs behind them long burnt out, I saw the remains of lines of red and blue worlds like Covent, holburn, leister still remained but little else. I hurried thought the long corridors these still had light the bulbs connected by wires people had built in to light the ways even if they flickered and fluctuated often. The long circular corridors and steps seemed endless until I arrived home it was busy as it always way people having built there homes into what little space they could lines of washing went from wall to wall people busy with the work of trying to survive. I headed to the back to my little house formed into what was once at a time a shop but for what I didn't know. I threw my things to the side and washed up a little from the walk before going out to see people who had gathered as they did most nights the ones younger then me all sat listening to him 

"It was a fair time of yes it was. The sky was blue and bright and the shon down on all things. Until the day… the signal came" 

I wanted to ignore it I had heard it a thousand times before but still I listened and imagined what it must have been like on that day 

'everyone did as always they worked, and shopped, and exploded the world was pleasent, accepting and sweet. That morning at a quarter to ten then clocks l stopped, the chimes from the great bell could be heard ringing across the city, every bell began ringing with it and the signal came from leaders that we should go down to stay safe, people packed there things and went down as instructed into the underground. People staied in there bunkers for a time waiting but as people grew and needed more space and food people spread far and wide making there homes to sit and wait until the signal comes again and we can all go back up there' he explained 

I hurried into my house shutting it up I did want to listen anymore. Most of those who where born above, they barely remember the world up there. Not that it mattered to me. 

I had never been up there I had lived my life down here never known the world above, I was as they often called a dark child. I was made and born in the darkness raised always below having never once been above. I was one of the first most children before me didn't survive, and even now angel a freind of mine from the east she was a born below too and now she had her own child a second generation to never see above, those who where born above always look down on us even if few of them remember much of above itself all being too young to remember much and honestly there was few of them left after the incident, but still they looked down on anyone born below, and those who lived above who worked and had children above where on pedestals even if many didn't understand where they where or who they even where anymore but people looked up to them, to those who knew above the best. I laughed at the thought a little of Newt, he was a child of above old enough to remember it but young enough not to have been held in any regard then again not that he would want it anyway, it always made me laugh to remember how much older then me he was. Newt was nine years my senior I believe it might be more but he didn't like talking much about before we all moved down here even less so since the incident.

[livesincerely]

you only have to ask (i’d give you absolutely anything)

Also on Ao3. Rated E

00000

“Hey there, beautiful.” Davey turns towards the source of the voice: a stocky blond in a pair of cargo shorts. He waves his hand at a small stretch of unclaimed space at Davey’s right. “Mind if I grab the spot next to you?”

“Um, no, go ahead.” Davey moves over slightly to make room but the stranger steps confidently into Davey’s space with a cocky, flirtatious grin.

“You’re new here, right?” the guy says, giving Davey an obvious once over. “I mean, I haven’t seen you around before and I’d’ve noticed a pair of eyes as pretty as yours.”

“I just moved in yesterday,” Davey confirms, blushing despite himself at such a blatant come on. “I’m David.”

“David, huh?” The stranger chuckles, trailing his fingers along Davey’s arm, then cupping a hand around Davey’s elbow. “And why’s a guy as good looking as you standing here all by himself?”

“Do you know Jack Kelly?” Davey asks, still trying to decide how he feels about the unexpected attention. “He’s supposed to be showing me around but I lost him somewhere in the crowd. Figured I’d post up someplace visible and wait for him to find me.” Davey finishes his drink, then throws his empty cup into a lone trash bag hanging off the back of a fold-up chair. “The fact that all the booze is here is just a convenient coincidence.”

Davey flashes the guy a grin but he doesn’t seem to share in the humor. Actually, his eyes have gone incredibly wide, a look of sudden comprehension sweeping across his face.

“Wait, David— Davey?” He snatches his hand back like Davey’s skin has turned scalding hot. “You’re Kelly’s Davey?”

Davey frowns. “I guess? I mean, I didn’t know he’d talked about me—“

The stranger’s eyes catch on something just over Davey’s shoulder, then he takes a large, deliberate step away. Davey turns to look, but a part of him already knows what he’s going to find.

Sure enough, it’s Jack. He making his way across the room at a steady clip, not hindered at all by the crowd of bodies between him and his goal, his gaze fixed unerringly on the guy standing next to Davey. He looks absolutely furious.

Davey’s breath hitches in his throat.

“Whoa, Kelly, sorry, I didn’t realize—“

Jack steps between them, positioning himself so that Davey is slightly behind him and decisively out of the stranger’s grasp. There’s an edge to his expression, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“Don’t fucking touch him.”

The stranger backs even further away, his hands raised in surrender. Davey thinks he must disappear into the crowd but he’s honestly not watching, too distracted by the way Jack’s chest is heaving, by the fierce set of his shoulders and the clench of his jaw.

“Fucking asshole,” Jack fumes. “He’s lucky I didn’t knock his damn teeth out, always prowling around and never knowing when to back the fuck off. He shouldn’t have put his fucking his hands on you.”

The words fall out of Davey’s mouth before he can stop them. “Why not?”

This seems to shock Jack out of his anger. “What?” he asks, brow furrowed.

“Why not?” Davey repeats, meeting Jack’s gaze, chin tilted up in challenge. There’s a warmth rising up Davey’s belly: years of longing finally kindled by a combination of alcohol and the undeniable spark of Jack’s jealousy. “Why shouldn’t he put his hands on me?”

Jack’s gaze is a hot, heady thing. Davey imagines he can feel the weight of it sweeping over him, catching on the planes of his cheeks, the line of his throat. He licks his lips, just a quick little flick of the tongue; Jack’s eyes follow the motion and linger.

“Eventually someone’s going to,” Davey continues, stepping forward until he and Jack are standing almost chest to chest. “If not him then someone else.”

He reaches out and draws a finger down the side of Jack’s neck, scratching lightly at Jack’s pulse point as he goes. Jack swallows audibly, perfectly still except for his hands, which flex and clench erratically—like he’s using all his self control to keep them at his sides.

“Does that bother you, Jack?” Davey asks, soft but pointed. They’re teetering on the brink now: any action could be the one that topples them over the edge. “That someone’s going to have me? That someone else is going to touch me?”

Davey leans ever so slightly closer. “That I might want them to?”

“Dave,” Jack finally growls out, a warning and a plea. It sends a shiver of delight down Davey’s spine. “Davey, what’re you—”

“Jack,” Davey breathes, looking at Jack through his eyelashes. “Put your fucking hands on me.”

Jack moves like a dam bursting, grabbing Davey’s hips and shoving him back up against the nearest wall. Their bodies are plastered together, every inch of Davey molded against every inch of Jack, and the heat between their bodies is almost unbearable because Davey has wanted this, has asked for this, but he’d never dreamed that Jack would actually give it to him.

“There,” Jack says. His forehead rests against Davey’s, their lips only inches apart. “Got any other requests for me, sweetheart?”

The endearment almost seems to hit Davey like a physical blow—the low rasp of Jack voice and the simmering heat in his eyes are a merciless combination—and Davey has to bite back a whimper.

“I think you should kiss me,” Davey says, already dizzy with desire. “I want you to kiss me, and then I want everything you’re willing to give me because jesus, Jack—”

Jack’s eyes go impossibly dark, and then they’re kissing, Jack’s mouth moving hard and desperate against his own. It’s better than Davey could have ever imagined, the hot press of Jack’s lips and the rough slide of his tongue. Jack’s hands drift up, catching against the hem of Davey’s shirt then slipping underneath, palming greedily at the bare skin of Davey’s back. The touch makes Davey shudder and pant, and his hands curl against the collar of Jack’s shirt, the fabric bunching up as he clings to him.

“Jack,” Davey moans as Jack ducks his head and starts blazing a trail down the side of Davey’s neck, wet and searing. “Jack, oh my god⁠—”

“Is this what you wanted, Dave?” Jack’s voice rumble’s right in Davey’s ear, his teeth scraping against Davey’s skin. “Is this what you wanted, sweetheart?”

Davey gasps and trembles. Sweetheart.

“Yes,” Davey eventually gets out. “Fuck, Jackie, can I⁠— can we⁠—”

“Tell me what you want, Davey,” Jack orders, and one of his hands moves to curl under Davey’s thigh, the other a hot brand against the small of his back. “You gotta give me your words, I gotta hear you say it.”

“I already told you,” Davey pants, fingers digging into Jack’s shoulders as he melts into him. “Everything. Anything.”

Jack groans somewhere deep in his chest, then kisses him again, messy and frantic. “Shit, Dave, are we actually⁠—”

“Take me back to the dorm,” Davey says. The party is still in full swing, drunken chatter and bass-heavy music pulsing all around them, but Davey only has eyes for Jack. Always for Jack. “Take me back to the dorm and fuck me like you mean it.”

Jack makes a noise⁠: a throaty, involuntary little keen. His expression is a mix of awed disbelief and simmering lust. “Jesus Christ, Davey, where the hell is this⁠— I’d give you anything, anything you ask me for, but are you sure you want to⁠— Are you sure you want me to⁠—”

Davey stops that line of thought in its tracks with another biting kiss. “I want you. Jackie, I want you.” He gives Jack a considering look, then lets his gaze wander away. “But if you don’t want to, I can go hunt down the guy from earlier—he seemed plenty interested before you scared him away.”

Immediately, Jack’s lip curls up in something like a snarl, his expression shading dark and possessive once again. It’s exhilarating. 

“Are you tryin' to provoke me?” Jack grinds out. His grip has tightened to just this side of bruising.

“It it working?” Davey breathlessly asks. 

Jack’s fingers close around Davey’s wrist and the next thing he knows Jack’s dragging him through the crowd and out of the frat house, only letting him go when they come up to Jack’s car. The journey home passes in a blur. Jack drives like a mad man, knuckles white with how hard he’s gripping the steering wheel, and between one moment and the next they’re pulling up to Jack’s dorm.  

Jack’s hands are shaking as he works his key into the deadbolt, cursing under his breath as he wrestles the door open. He ushers Davey inside and kicks the door closed with his foot, but before he can get his bearings Davey shoves him up against it.

Their next kiss is absolutely filthy, all tongues and teeth and frenzied heat sparking between them.

“Off, off,” Davey says, tugging at the bottom of Jack’s t-shirt. Their lips separate just long enough for Jack to wrestle his shirt off, then clash back together.

They move clumsily towards Jack’s bed, neither one willing to let go of the other long enough to cross more easily. Davey pushes Jack down onto the mattress, then climbs on top of him, his thighs bracketing Jack’s hips.

“Holy shit, Davey, I can’t⁠— Is this real?” Jack groans, watching with wide, wide eyes as Davey pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it aside, then settles himself more firmly in Jack's lap. “Or did I drink too much and pass out under a coffee table somewhere?”

“If this is a dream, I’m going to be incredibly upset when I wake up,” Davey answers, rocking his hips down against Jack’s until they’re both gasping at the friction. “Yes, Jack⁠—”

“God, this is like somethin’ straight out of my dirtiest fantasies,” Jack says, his hands splayed wide and possessive around Davey’s ribcage. “You at the party, looking up at me all pissed off and gorgeous, desperate for my hands on you. Fuck, you don’t know how long I’ve wanted you.”

“Tell me,” Davey demands, cupping a hand around the back of Jack’s neck and leaning in to slot their mouths together in another passionate kiss. “Tell me how long you’ve wanted me.”

“I’ve… wanted you⁠... for ages,” Jack pants against Davey's mouth, his hands shifting down to wrap around Davey’s waist and pull their bodies even closer together. “Like, since junior prom, if not earlier. I saw Lonnie Vega groping your ass in the middle of the gym during the slow dance and hadta stop myself from breaking his nose.”

“I’ve wanted you since the summer after sophomore year,” Davey replies, fingers curling in Jack’s hair. “You got drunk at Amy Nelson’s pool party and told me I had the most stupidly pretty eyes in the entire universe.”

Davey bites his lip, then confesses, “I almost climbed into your lap right then and there.”

Jack’s hands spasm against Davey’s skin, then clamp down even harder around Davey’s hips. “Fucking fuck. You can’t just—”

That’s all the warning Davey gets before Jack flips them, leaving Davey flat on his back with Jack cradled between his thighs. Jack pulls him into an absolutely scorching kiss, devouring his mouth so thoroughly that Davey can’t do anything except hold on and let him, until he’s a breathless, pliant mess sprawled across the bed sheets.

Jack’s tears himself away, his fingers fumbling at his fly. Davey goes to do the same to his own and second later they’re tangled together⁠ again, this time with the intoxicating slide of bare skin against bare skin.

“Jack,” Davey whimpers after several long moments of kissing and touching. “Jack, I want⁠—”

“I know, sweetheart,” Jack says. “I gotcha.”

Jack pulls away to dig around in the drawer of his nightstand⁠ and Davey feels the loss of Jack’s body heat, of Jack’s weight pressing him down into the mattress, like an ache in his chest. Jack comes back with a condom and a bottle of lube, which he quickly uncaps and drizzles over his fingers.

“Yeah?” Jack says, looking to Davey for permission.

“Yeah, Jack, just hurry up⁠ and—” The rest of Davey’s words dissolve into a throaty sigh as the first of Jack’s fingers presses inside of him. “Mmmmm, yes.”

“God, Davey, you’re perfect like this,” Jack murmurs, expression reverent. “So perfect for me.”

It’s overwhelming⁠—the gravitational pull of Jack’s gaze, the protective cage of his body over Davey’s⁠, the incredible feeling of Jack’s finger stretching him open. Jack bends down to kiss him as he works a second finger inside and Davey’s arms come up to loop around Jack’s neck to keep him there, desperate for something to anchor him in the wash of sensations. 

When Jack curls his fingers up and finally brushes against Davey’s prostate, Davey throws his head back with a choking moan, his nails digging into Jack’s shoulders as he writhes and shakes. Jack zeros in on that spot with a single minded focus, a third finger slipping in as his movements speed up, and Davey nearly sobs with how good it all feels.

“Jack,” Davey begs. “Jackie, that’s enough, come on.”

Jack presses a kiss to the inside of Davey’s knee, then tears open the condom and rolls it into place. Davey tilts his hips up for a better angle and the tip of Jack’s dick rubs directly over his hole, causing them both to moan. Then Jack finally presses forward, filling Davey in one careful, fluid movement, and Davey almost can’t breathe with how much he wants this.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Jack hisses as he bottoms out, his hips sitting flush against Davey’s ass. He’s biting his lip so hard it looks like he might draw blood, his eyes blown out with desire. “You feel so damn good.”

“Jack,” Davey whimpers. He squirms a little, impatient and longing for more, then wraps his legs around Jack’s waist to draw him even closer. The adjustment causes Jack’s dick to sink that much deeper inside him, and Davey’s mouth parts around a strung-out whine. “Jack, fuck me.”

Jack’s response is a full-body shudder. “I⁠— shit, yeah, okay.”

He pulls out the barest amount, then slowly thrusts back in, starting to work up into a steady pace. Davey’s hands scrabble against Jack’s back, each grind of Jack’s hips sending bolts of pleasure shooting down his spine, and Jack leans down and slants his mouth across Davey’s in another kiss⁠—full of emotion, full of promise.

And it’s amazing, it’s more than amazing, but there’s something that Davey wants, and Jack said he’d give him anything if he just asked for it it.

“I thought you were going to fuck me like you mean it,” Davey gasps out between thrusts. 

Jack’s hips stutter, then still. “...What?” he breathes.

“You heard me,” Davey says, though he can’t help but squirm a little, feeling a hot blush spread across his cheeks. “Fuck me like you fucking mean it.”

Jack stares at him, and the expression on his face is like nothing Davey’s ever seen. 

“David,” Jack says in a voice like gravel⁠⁠—one final warning.

Davey lets his arms stretch over his head, his head tilted in offering. He looks up at Jack from under his eyelashes and murmurs, “Please?” 

Jack snaps. His next thrust has enough power behind it that it threatens to send Davey’s head slamming into the wall above to the bed. Jack sets a brutal pace, driving into Davey hard and fast, and Davey cries out, clawing at Jack’s shoulders, helpless to do anything except feel as Jack thoroughly wrecks him.

“You never know when to stop pushing me, do you sweetheart?” Jack growls out, his words punctuated by a rough, dirty grind of his hips. Davey bucks and keens. “I’m so damn weak for you⁠—you can’t even imagine how much I want you, how much I need you.”

“Jack,” Davey sobs. “Yes, yes, yes, fuck⁠—”

“So fucking gorgeous,” Jack continues, and Davey thinks he can feel the words dragging over his skin, can feel the grit of each and every syllable. “Had every single person at that damn party staring at you and didn’t even notice. Made me wanna mark up your neck just so everyone knew not to fucking touch you.”

Jack bends down to draw the flat of his tongue across Davey’s collarbones, then bites down on the juncture between his neck and shoulder, his hips still pistoning in and out, in and out. “Because no one’s supposed to touch you but me, isn’t that right David?” He circles his hips, then snaps them forward, the head of his dick hitting right against Davey’s prostate. “No one’s hands but mine.”

And Davey can barely speak through the fire racing through him, can barely think through the sheer ecstasy of it all, but he manages to babble out, “Yes, Jack, just you, only you, god, please don’t stop⁠—”

“Mine,” Jack growls. “Mine.”

He reaches between them to wrap a hand around Davey leaking, neglected dick and Davey vision whites out, back arching high off the bed as he comes hard against Jack’s stomach. He comes back to himself just in time to watch as Jack follows him over the edge, his rhythm faltering as his orgasm washes over him.

They stay right where they are for several long moments afterwards, just breathing together. Then Jack says, quietly but full of feeling, “Anything you want. All you have to do is ask.”

Davey kisses him one more time, chaste and sweet. “I want everything,” he promises. “Everything you want to give me.”

[trashpandaorigins]

The Body Keeps the Score: Ch. 11 The Tell Tale....?

"You said it yourself bitch, we're the Guardians of the Galaxy." Gamora is finally a part of something. But the past always follows you, eats at you and she must come to grips with her deeds as she tries to build a future. Meanwhile Rocket has never cared much for anyone or anything. Together the two of them discover they are more alike than different and try to heal themselves by befriending the other.

*Content Warnings: Mentions of child/animal abuse, trauma, character death, physical torture/pain*

Title of this fic is taken from the book of the same title "The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma," by Bessel van der Kolk

I came in from the wilderness, a creature void of form

Come in, she said

I'll give ya shelter from the storm

---

I'll always do my best for her, on that I give my word

In a world of steel-eyed death, and men who are fighting to be warm

Come in, she said

I'll give ya shelter from the storm

Shelter from the Storm - Bob Dylan

“I know what I said,” Rocket did not bother to suppress the growl in this tone. He glared at his data pad and the over-sized head of the Nova officer.

“Then she must be taken into custody. What are your coordinates?”

“I told yah we’re in the Keystone Quadrant.” The thing in his chest, heart or not palpated with fright. He swallowed it down with the help of trinquelian liquor.

“All the more reason for you to hand her over,” even on a screen the Nova officer’s smug grin made Rocket want to shoot something-well more than usual. 

“We’ve been getting reports of two individuals bearing a Halfworld insignia. Something acidic swelled up in the raccoonoid’s belly. He clenched his fists tight. “We’ll pay you extra for any information you can give us on Lady Gamora’s continued behavior, her combat status, and,” the officer continued, “we will continue to keep our mouths shut on your whereabouts should those Halfworlders come looking.”

“I said she threatened me,” he glanced over at Groot who fiddled with a disarmed treian bomb. “I ain’t said she acted on the threat.”

“That’s a chance you’re willing to take?”

Rocket’s ears flicked backward, baring his teeth.

“I’ll let you know if she does anything fishy.”

He tapped the screen watching the Nova officer’s face face away.

Poor kid, Groot let out a squeak as air from the bomb popped off.

“Careful Groot, you’re gonna hurt yourself!”

The little flora only stared at him inquisitively and smiled wide eyed. The thing in Rocket’s heart quivered, he sighed, running a paw through his fur.

“Made this for you bud,” he murmured, reaching over his work bench to a small, finely crafted gun. Made of smooth, opret metal. Durable but light, not too flashy, but pleasing to the eye. He’d painted it a bright light green over the barrel. Groot toddled closer, his brittle roots still fragile. Rocket knelt down beside him, showing him the gun. “It shoots water, see?” With the pull of the trigger a small jet of water escaped the gun, arching passed Groot and splashing onto the floor.

“I am Groot!”

“Yeah you can!” Rocket couldn’t help a laugh as the flora grabbed for the toy. He watched Groot play with the thing happily, shooting it off and watching the water splash.

“I am Groot!”

“Yeah bud, it’s for you. All yours.”  The little flora ignored him, running around the cramped engine room shooting off the toy gun. The raccoonoid watched,  ears slowly drooping. He sighed, slumping, cybernetics in his back relaxing for a moment, tugging on his skin abated. Groot laughed as several droplets of water hit against his face. Rocket closed his eyes, savoring that sound. Those three words.

“Groot, c’mere you can change the kinda water that comes out. Lemme show….FUCK!”

Rocket toppled, stomach spinning. His forepaws, and tail all sailing through the air in a sickening hurdle. He crashed against the storage cabinets, weapons and stray parts cascading down around him.

“Groot!” He shoved a large tube off himself, scrambling around for the little flora.

This ship tilted left as Rocket scampered on all fours, claws trying to get a grip on the aluminum floor.

“Groot!”

“Mmmm grooo!”

A small leaf poking out of the mess of tools sent Rocket panicking. He grabbed the small flora in his arms, quickly looking him over for any wounds.

“You okay?” Groot nodded, but sniffed, keeping his little body curled. Rocket pulled him to his chest, claws shielding him against another violent shake of the ship. “Shit, shit, shit!”

He held Groot to him, running on three legs, trying to balance against the Benatar’s jolting down the narrow halls to the cockpit.

“Who the flark is flying this thing?!”

“That would be Quill,” Drax nodded towards the humie who let out his own string of expletives from the helm.

Rocket teetered towards the copilot seat, then stopped in his tracks.

“Thats….”

On the starboard side, a flare of yellow fire burst and spread across the dark tableau of space, illuminating the Benatar.

“It’s a solar storm,” Gamora gapsed. The crack in her voice not going unnoticed to his capable ears.

Rocket leapt up into the co pilot seat, unlocking the steering controls and twisting the ship to the leeward side avoiding another flare.

“Groot!” The little flora tumbled from his place against Rocket’s chest, hitting the ground with a small thump “You alright?!”

“I am Groot!”

The ship groaned, another flash of fiery orange covering the large windows.

“Dude watch where we’re going!” Quill shouted, revving the engines and diving down under the flare. Drax let out a hooting laugh, as they swerved the ship around two more exploding flares.

“You didn’t read this on the radar?” Rocket growled, grunting as he swung the Benatar around another explosion. The humie glanced behind him, the raccoonoid followed his look to Gamora, scrutinizing the radar trying to anticipate the next flare.

“You got a read on Nebula’s ship didn’t you?!” He snarled.

“Rocket this isn’t the time,” she reprimanded. “We have bigger problems on our hands!”

“Clearly you don’t think so! You’d rather…” Something hissed, the Benatar buckling. All five of them screaming.

Beep, beep, beep, beep!

The red alarms blared.

“Quill! When I say now, take her around the horn!”

Rocket squinted through the harsh white light, waiting for the flare to thin out.

“Now!”

A collective scream rose once more as the Benatar swerved around the rim of a small sun, the hot air currents sending the ship surging up and around. The ship fishtailed, tremoring. Lights flashed. Rocket sniffed,  somethin’s burnin’.

BEEP BEEP BEEP

“Everyone okay?” The human called,

“I am well! This is quite fun!” Drax looked wide eyed straight at the bright lights.

“I’m fine,” Gamora seethed.

“Groot?....GROOT?!”

“Shit,” Quill whispered, white knuckling the steering and flinging the Benatar around a small sunburst just in time. The ship rolled on the hot air let off from the blast like a ship on the writhing ocean. “Groot wandered off to the storage area… that’s where…”

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

Rocket glanced at the cameras, a fire in the main storage unit in the rear of the ship. Flames licked the containers. His stomach dropped. He fiddled with the seat belt, heaving for breath.

“Stay there,” Gamora ordered, already on her feet, flying out of the cockpit, down the hall towards the rear. Rocket bared his teeth, pulling his eyes back to the solar storm. He panted, heat from the fire inside and outside of the ship beginning to take its toll.

“Dude we have to get out of here! The ships on fire!”

“I know!”

The humie dipped under another large blast,

“We can land on Recseta. It’s only a jump away!”

Rocket nodded, but his eyes remained glued to the cameras, he spotted Gamora in the storage unit, shielding her face from the flames.

Cmon Groot….where are you bud?!

The mechanical thing in his chest threatened to explode it beat so fast, he gripped the steering controls so tight the metal scratched.

“Read….”

BOOM!

The Benatar jerked violently, Rocket closed his eyes against the straps holding him in. Pressing him downward, his insides threatening to empty. The lights on the controls blinked, fuzzed and went black. Sweat poured down Quill’s face.

“Why is it so hot?”

“Groot!”

Rocket leaned forward, staring at the shorted out screen, as if to will it back online. No luck.

“Here comes the jump! Rocket, punch it!”

The human’s voice called him back from his panic. Rocket thrust the steering forward, sending the ship surging forward. There was a sickening jolt, Quill muttered something, struggling to land through the dense trees.

Rocket adjusted the landing gears as the ship gradually slowed. A plume of black smoke billowing out of the starboard side.

“I...I got him,” the raccoonoid spun in his seat. Gamora leaned on the side of Quill’s chair, one arm gripping it tightly. On the other hand, Groot curled, scared and whimpering but otherwise unharmed. “There was an explosion.”

“Yeah we got that,” Rocket seethed, he grabbed Groot from Gamora’s hold. “You alright bud?”

“I..a...am G...grooot!”  The little face nodded but curled in on himself.

“He good?” Quill asked, the raccoonoid nodded.

“Good. Gamora….?”

The assassin nodded, silencing Quill’s further fretting.

---

The Benatar would be alright, after some repair. The bulk of the damage consisted mostly of the internal storage units, and some external hits but nothing permanent. Rocket surveyed the extent of the fires after they’d made sure everyone was okay. He and Quill took turns cooling the exterior of the ship, while Drax had offered to move any cargo into the living quarters temporarily. Even Groot “helped,” pushing containers around and trying to open the safes.

“Where’s Gamora, she should be helpin’ us. She got us into this mess,” the raccoonoid fumed.

“Just give her a break man, she got pretty burnt up trying to get Groot.”

Rocket waited for the end of that sentence, “when you should’ve been watching him.” But it didn’t come.

“Whatever, I’m going to find her. No one gets out of repair duty!”

He dropped his tools and hopped down from the wing of the ship

Recseta was an arboreal planet. Largely uninhabited due to its size and remote location even within the Keystone Quadrant.

“Gams! Gamora!” Rocket called, wandering through the trees. He kept one paw on his holster, just in case. “Gams! Gaaaammmoooorrrraaaa! Ga…”

He sniffed, once, twice. Dirt, steele, sweat, a slight burning. That’s her.

Rocket’s ears swiveled towards the smell. Through the lengthy shadows of the trees he spotted her, sitting hunched over her arm; no doubt trying to look at her wounds. Her shoulders trembled as she worked.

Something else too ….salt...water...tears? Ppppsh no way.

He crept closer, watching her.

“You’re never gonna cool the entire thing at that angel.” Rocket folded his arms, leaning against the rough bark of a tree. He sniffed the earthen moisture of the air, combined with the scent of tang of smoking metal.

“Are you offering assistance?” Gamora growled, trying to turn over her shoulder to get a better view of the wound. She held the cooling pen at an awkward position trying to focus on the torn wires and metal beneath the skin, wincing as the icy plasma-like substance graced her skin. She muttered a curse, adjusting her grip and attempting again. In the hazy twilight it was difficult to determine wire from vein.

“Since you’re askin’.” Rocket watched her left arm spasm twice more before sighing, heaving himself up, with an exaggerated sigh and striding towards her. “Gimme that.”

She relinquished the cooling pen without question, facing forward and curling her fingers around the fallen log on which she sat. Rocket pushed a nearby rock through the dirt several feet and climbed up, balancing on the top just the right height to hover over the woman’s shoulder. The darkness of the forest was no problem for his vision, he almost wished it was. The damage she’d taken from that explosive was extensive. Besides frying the cybernetics in her shoulder the elaborate wiring under her flesh bubbled and raised in angry black grey lines across the shoulder blade to the side of her spine and up the back of her neck.

Using the tip of the instrument, he traced over the cybernetic coils twisting in and out of her muscle tissue. White-blue liquid encapsulated the smoking wires, instantly cooling them. Gamora’s muscles twitch involuntarily with the chill.

“Stop moving,” he admonished. Without thinking of it the raccoonoid raised a paw, placing it against her other shoulder, little claws curling around the natural curve of the bone beneath flesh. Her skin was smooth, not perfect of course-stubble goosebumps raised on her skin, a million little hairs bent to and throw in the breeze. She stiffened but did not move as he worked his way around the socket of her shoulder. The metal of her implants set flush against her skin around the bend in her collar bone, contouring naturally. So carefully done, custom.  The engineering was flawless. The time it must have taken to weave the thin wires and paneling with skin was inexplicable. Especially around the curve of her face. How long did she have to lie still….did she remain still? Did they strap her down or manually hold her? Did they put her in a cage? Ha no….ain’t no cage strong enough to hold Gamora. But...one could’ve stayed still for long, they probably drugged her with stars know what.

For all that they’d done to his body and his brain...they’d never touched his face apart from his eyes. The face is so sensitive the flesh so thin...this must've taken at least several procedures for hours at a time…. Rocket shifted his weight, shivering, curving around the ball of her arm, carefully positioning the device to cool the tiny cybernetics that continued their way down her arm, lost to blood and bone.

The wind through the trees ruffled his fur and the distant unseen chorus of bugs continued making the dark silence more bearable.  He looked over the open wound once more, satisfied with the cooling.

“I can’t get anymore than that,” he explained  looking at the undulating black tentacles of fried cybernetics beneath the skin. “Only way to do those would be to open you up. You’ll have to wait it out, they should cool in a few days on their own.”

“That’s fine,” she answered shortly, making to get up. Rocket reached down beside her on the large fallen tree for the cloth already disheveled and stained with blood. He swiped it up, dabbing tenderly around the torn edges of her skin. Beneath his other paw, still resting on her shoulder he could feel her relax, sitting back in place.

“You shouldn’t have done that. If that fire had been any closer it would’ve disabled your whole system.” It came out a harsh growl, more-so then he meant.

“Groot would have been blown apart. Again,” she defended. “Besides these injuries are minor compared to …. others. I can handle it.”

“Just because you can doesn’t mean you should have to.”

Gamora huffed, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

A gust of wind howled between them, sending a large piece of the assassins’s black-marroon hair sweeping down her back. She reached backward, gathering her hair up and holding it at the nape of her skull. From far off, the lights of the Benatar cast an almost moonlit glow. The metal in Gamora’s shoulder shone, reflecting in Rocket’s nocturnal eyes. He picked up the sutures with trembling paws.

It was much easier to patch up an inanimate object like a bomb or a gun. Metal didn’t feel anything. You could pulverize it as much as you wanted. You could push and pull flesh pretty damn well too. If you didn’t mind the screaming that usually went with it. He figured Gamora knew that truth too.

“Hang on, this might hurt. Move your head.”

She bent her head slightly to the right, and he moved his other paw, resting ever so carefully on her neck making sure to keep his claws as retracted as possible. Beneath the thin green skin, he could feel her pulse thrum in a steady rhythm. So delicate, unlike anything else about her. He  worked the stitches with dexterous, nimble hands weaving in and out. Her neck tensed.

“Ahh,” she winced.

“S’alright, it hurts.” Rocket murmured  by way of an apology. He poked the needle through her skin, watching the blood pucker up.  

“ When Thanos made yah,” he broached slowly, “did he keep all your insides in tact?” Slowly her green skin knit together and he adjusted his grip moving to steady the center of her spine with his other paw. The flesh was thin there too, though not as smooth.

“My cybernetics are muscular and skeletal.” He nodded. The gradient of her flesh changed, a scar twisted there, a ribbon of skin still healing here. More metal beneath the surface, he could feel it as he pressed.

“That’s good at least. I don’t know how much of me is actually me,” he admitted softly. “Sometimes I wonder if I even got a heart that’s my own or if that’s just a piece of metal too.”

Her left arm moved as she shifted her weight, her torso inflating with the breath she sucked through her teeth as he continued to work the flesh. Rocket finished tying off the final stitch with a snap, biting it off with his pointed teeth.  Gamora shuddered, the vibrations of which he could feel through his paws.

“All set.”

He waited for her to get up briskly but...she didn’t. He didn’t move either. The insects sung around the two of them, the trees filing the space. In the twilight purple haze they sat. The raccoonoid looked at his paws, one of them still resting on Gamora’s back, the other on her shoulder. He didn’t move them even as he realized it. Together they sat together breathing.

Finally, Gamora turned around, looking at him. Her large usually imperceptible eyes soft. He followed her gaze as it wandered over his small frame, resting finally on the raised bolts under his collar bones and the bald bits of knotted skin, raised and riddled with rough scar tissue. She reached out, hand trembling; fingers brushed the cold metal. The last person who touched those bolts, was the person putting them in.

“You were awake when they did this to you,” she whispered calmly. The raccoonoid didn’t dare ask how she knew.

You go under the knife enough times you start getting an immunity to the anesthetics. It takes more and more to knock you out….and keep you out. Eventually it’s more trouble than it’s worth.

He watched her scrutinize the implants with knowing eyes. Measuring the angle at which they were inserted, how the bolts functioned to expand his front limbs and give him a chest. But she wouldn’t ask anything aloud; she was too kind, too careful.

The blinding cold lights, the pinching restraints, the biting needles. He’d never told anyone anything about his creation, not in such detail not even to Groot. But Gamora...she got made too...by Thanos. And that asshole probably didn’t treat her no better than they treated me.

Rocket clenched his jaw shut, else his memories might come pouring out, covered in blood and visera. He yearned so desperately to tell Gamora everything. Every agonizing pang that every wracked him, every night he shivered in a windowless cage waiting for those gloved hands to strip him and beat him and break him and make him and unmake him and make him again. Whatever the thing was in his chest, mechanical or natural that pumped his blood-it tightened with yearning to speak his pain  to someone who knew. They’d each done terrible things to silence the voice of their anguish, of their pasts, but sitting here in this nighttime with her he longed to tell her what it was that turned him into this monster. He swallowed the urge, he wouldn’t say a thing,. Selfish as he was, Gamora had felt her own share of agonies. She didn’t need to hold his.

Gamora moved her hand slowly, reaching out and opening her palm for him to take her hand. Against his own inhibitions, Rocket grasped it, grateful. Fingers closed around his paw. Her skin was rougher there, calloused and raised from years of wielding a blade, but no less warm.

He squeezed her hand, it was all he could do. She squeezed his hand back, her large inexplicably sharp eyes looking at him. With the same deftness as Groot ...the old Groot. But different too, where the old Groot had always looked upon him with boundless empathy Gamora held his gaze with a mutual sorrow. A shared anguish they both carried within themselves though they were far from their creators. Even still, their bodies kept the score of years of violence and manipulation. Rocket sniffed, the scent of the assassin mingled with the trees and dirt, with the damp soil and the used metal instruments.

She stroked his paw incessantly, as if she were reassuring herself of something.

“Thank you,” she murmured looking down at their hands.

“Don’t mention it.”

She nodded in affirmation and stood up, walking back through the trees to the ship, leaving the raccoonoid alone once more. Rocket fought down the tears behind his eyes. How long they had been there, he didn’t know. What had provoked them, he wasn’t sure.  He watched her go until she was lost to the darkness once more. He curled his paw in a small fist, trying to hold on to whatever feeling was contained therein. Loneliness crashed upon him once more, he sniffed and straightened, hopping down from the rock and gathering the medical supplies.

---

“I am Groot!”

Back on the ship, some time later, Rocket turned, the tiny flora nudged the data bad towards him, blinking with the missed message of the day.

Nova.

The raccoonoid’s paws trembled as he clicked it on,

“This ...this is s...Subject 89P13.” He stole himself a breath, closing his eyes. “Gamora’s cybernetics have been damaged.” His fur bristled. “We hit a solar storm and she got hurt. I managed to do some repairs but…” he swallowed. “Her enhancements are operating at sixty percent. We’re on Recseta.”

He shut the mic off,  hurling the device against the room. It smacked against the far side of the pipes with a clatter.

He slid down against the wall to the floor, rubbing his eyes with the back of his paws.

“I am Groot?”

Rocket only shook his head, reaching for a bottle of isertine ale.

[mrskandiibaby2269]

Another Round:FckFeelings

Another Round: FuckFeelings

Hmmm ok as I think to myself opening my walk in closet door. I need to wear something sexy. Something that would stop him in his tracks. I just wonder what does he really have in store for me. This I definitely cannot wait to see.

Hmmm maybe.. I should go nude

Hmmm decisions, decision ….

I think this trench coat would be perfect a night like this jamming to some Rihanna feeling sexy and confident

🎶Ooh nana nana five fingers on it Five fingers, hit it like you want it I’mma hit it like I’m on it Straight shots of the Buddha Shots, shots, shots, shots Baby, I’mma pick your poison Ooh-we, oh-yeah (hmm na na na) You gon’ need it I’m off that la-la I’mma get it real like the jacuzzi, (ah yeah) And sex with me, so amazing All this all work, no vacation Stay up off my Instagram with your temptation Sex with me, sex with me, sex with me yeah So amazing, so amazing Hmmmm🎶

Taking a hot steamy shower thinking out loud about what could do go down. I know this is risky as shit but I think I’m starting to like it. Mmm having flashes of the future of what I can do to him and what he can do to me … mmmm dripping wet along the pity patter of the shower head water hitting my nipples getting em hard. Got me feeling myself literally mmm damn I know I know what y'all thinking. “This is wrong. I’m just another thot that got wife’d up.” Hell no. My husband has been cheating on me for years only reason why I’m still with him because i believe we can fix our marriage. But he puts me down, belittles me , makes fun of my weight. I don’t know why – no I'ma save it for the real break through at the therapy session, like I said before as if there will be one for me and him. Scoffs. Yeah right. That nicca … fuck him. Back to tonight… It’s just the way my ex makes me feel like. Wanted, actually… better than… wanted… like I’m needed. I mean damn. It feels … sooo fucking good. Ahhh, the way we have phone sex the way how his voice sounds so serious. How he say he wanna eat me. Got me playing with myself in the shower Maybe I should I send a teaser video to him hmm....yeah let me do that. “Mmmmm ahhhh hope you ready for me baby. Cause I’m so fuckin … ready… mmm… for… you . Muah 💋 😘” *Message Delivered*

*Read* “Oohh hell yea im ready baby girl I’m around the block. 10mins away😘😘😘👅💦.”

Stepping out and quickly drying off putting on my favorite heels. Some clear lip gloss, my silver hoop earrings. A little spritz of Pink Ice perfume. Observing myself one last time. Coaching myself. “Aight girl this is it. No turning back. You’re thick, plump, and sexy. And you gonna turn his ass out tonight.” Hearing the car horn twice. Along with a phone call.

“ I’m here gorgeous.”

“Ok boo, coming right out.”

“Alright baby girl.”

Walking down the stairs feeling like a model in a movie everything moving in slow motion. My favorite song playing in my head. Open the door and there he is in the sexy flesh he is in. I take him in. Black and white Jordan’s . Khaki cargo shorts with just the right amount of sag. White v-neck shirt. Brightest smile I ever seen. All that could leave my mouth was.. “Damn…. you fine as hell daddy.”

“And you look like a beautiful movie star mmm spin around for me baby.” “Mmm mm mm. Even better than I imagined. You ready to go?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Let me get the door for you, mmm can you smack yo ass?” “ ha, no”

“I'ma do it anyway.”

“Ooh mm you so crazy.” “So where we going to?”

“The Umstead Hotel and Spa.”

“Ohh really. Damn…”

“Damn what don’t wanna go there or something?”

“No, no it’s not that. I always wanted to go but my husband would ever take me.”

“Why not?”

“He said he don’t want to spend his money on a fat pig like me. I’m not worth it.”

He just looked at me like he was in disbelief and disgusted. Trying to gather up what I said.

“Are you serious?! He said that ?! Hell Nah. What the fuck is wrong with him?”

“ I don’t even know any more.” I reply rubbing the nerve between my eyebrows. “

"Calm down baby girl alright just breathe in and out for me. Ok? I’m about to take real good care of you.”

“Ok, if you say so.”

Arriving at our destination. I was about to open the door and he beats me to it. Taking my hand and helping me step out. Giving me his arm and assisting to the door once I step inside it’s absolutely breathe taking. I’m lost for words can’t describe how it is. But the decor is beautiful the atmosphere and the vibe is positive and everyone is so nice.“ He checks us in and escorts me to the restaurant in side and we order the same thing The Grilled Lobster and a bottle of their best champagne. Hours past along with a few laughs and conversations.

"I just can’t believe that he would say that about you though. That’s just stupid. Please don’t tell me you believe him please tell me.”

“There are days where I do but then again..I don’t cause I know he still loves me then. I hear her voice and the background… anyways. It’s whatever.”

“You deserve better than that though, babe. I know we weren’t perfect but I can say those words never left my mouth. ”

“I know you didn’t and you’re right.. but we can’t go back those days anymore …”

“Or can we.” We look at each other. Like the flame between us is about to be re kindled, we both feeling sparks and feeling some fire, the infatuation is real and present in this room. He’s undressing me with his eyes and I’m doing the same to him. Biting my lip. Sipping on a last drop of the champagne wiping my lip so much seductively. Low key insinuating that I’m ready to give him some head. But I know he ain’t ready yet.

“You can use some more champagne, waiter refill the goddess glass please?”

“Yes,sir. Here you are miss enjoy!”

“"Are you trying to get me drunk so you can fuck me, lol?”

“No no no. Lol If I wanted to fuck you I would put you on this table in front of everyone and give them a real show.” “But I wanna make love to you. Tonight. Take my hand. This is how you should be treated.”

Ain’t gon lie to y'all this man is swooping me off my feet. I take his hand he pays the waiter for dinner. Leads me to the elevator as soon as the door close. He kisses me softly on my neck and on my lips passionately and deep. With a little French tongue action. The sparks between done turned into fire that we can’t no longer control. We bust in room tripping over furniture but not losing the rhythm not messing up the flow. Then I hear my song on the radio. He tells me he likes this song too ,but wants the instrumental and the song on repeat so he synced his phone to his speaker.

🎶
I probably shouldn’t be around you
'Cause you get wild, wild, wild
You looking like there’s nothing that you won’t do
Ayy, girl that’s when I told you
 When I’m with you, all I get is wild thoughts
Wild, wild, wild
Wild, wild, wild thoughts
Wild, wild, wild
When I’m with you, all I get is wild thoughts
Wild, wild, wild
When I’m with you, all I get is wild thoughts🎶

Now if you’re wondering why we’re listening to music so much. Because we’re music lovers, we listen to music that matches our love mood. It’s perfect for our vibe . Kissing and, touching, and rubbing, going back and forth but , once again. Here we go with them damn second thoughts. I tried to stop him saying I gotta go. I have to call my husband and let him know what’s going on. “I gotta go. .. I .. I can’t do this.”

“No no come on. Where you going?”

I run to the bathroom tried to call my husband. What the fuck that’s the fifth time he declined me. Hell nah. What the fuck is going on…

“Mmmm ahhh fuck daddy…”

“Hello.. what the hell!!! Hello ”

“I’m busy. Leave me the fuck alone!!!.”

“You know what take all the fucking time you need. I’M DONE WITH YOU I WANT A DIVORCE!”“

*call ended*

Tried to hold back my tears and regain my composure and head out. But by the time I open the door, I can tell he heard everything. I tried running away but he softly takes my arm and whispers in my ear. "It’s ok baby. Just give into me.”

So I do finally let loose. He kiss me I kiss him back. I push him down on the couch and straddle him kiss bite his neck. And pull off his shirt. Slide down to unzip his pants and throw them on the other side of the room. Untie his shoes and I take those off along with his socks too.

He tries to take off my coat but I stop him and push his hands away.

“If you want me to let loose and give in to you. Then lay back and relax for me.”

“Yes ma'am. Do your thang baby. ”

“You know I always wanted to give out a lap dance. I guess now is my chance. Turn that song up for me .”

The volume gets higher and higher. 🎶Shawty, this gonna be your favorite song… this is the remix.🎶 Hearing that piano playing smoothly with them fingers snapping and then the hi-hat and the drums make me look deep inside of all the shit that fucking piece of shit putting me through. And I start dancing like a pro stripper. I see him pull some bands out of his pockets and he throw them at me being my motivation.

“Yeah baby, there you go. Mmm shit that’s sexy as fuck. Keep going.”

Body rolling flipping my hair. Doing a spilt in the air. Twerking on him.

🎶Bring that shit back, let you hear somethin’ twice Ask how to keep drama clear from her life Said, “I don’t know, girl, but here’s some advice Stop bein’ friendly to the fuckboys (yeah) Stop bein’ friendly to the fuckboys (yeah) Stop bein’ friendly to the fuckboys Stop bein’ friendly to the fuckboys" (Hold up) Hold up, I’m who you’ve been cravin’ for The one that you save it for Hop in the shower and shave it for Come and watch Power the day before🎶

When Louso repeatedly said “stop being friendly to the fuck boys.” The more I forgot about my future ex husband and I walked slow and sexy back to my ex. And leaned down to his level.

“You ready to see what I got on under this coat?”

“Hell yeah. But take your time baby. ”

“Ok. Here we go.” Untie one bow after the other, taking it off my shoulders nice and slow, and let flow and drop onto the floor. Twirl my phat ass in his face and tease him real good making sure he can’t touch or get it. But I slip up on purpose and let him catch me. He pulls me to him and I look down but he puts his hand under my chin and left my head up. And looks at me deep in my eye. “No longer will you need to look down anymore, that’s over now baby. For now on. You keep your pretty head up. Now look at me.”

He stands up and picks me up off my feet and place me on the bed. Put my legs and feet in the air while my heels are still on. Kisses me from my feet, to my calves, to my legs, to my thighs, to my pussy, to both sides of my hips, to my stomach, to my breasts, to my neck, to my lips, mmmm sending chills to my spine his kisses was amazing setting me on fire, got me going crazy again.

“Mmmm shit. This feels so good. Keep going.”

“Ahhh wet this dick up for me baby.”

“Ok daddy.” “Ummm mmmm ahh mmm slurrp”

“Shhiit, hell yeah. Mmm yea baby suck that dick baby. Fuck.”

“Mmmm ahhh mmmm *chokes on it*”

He picks me up and puts me on his dick and lays me down on my back and he makes love to me.

“Hitting and stroking that pussy nice and slow.. mmm fuck!”

“Ahhhh yesss… this.. feel so.. damn amazing.”

“Yeah baby. I told you. I got you. Mmm shit.”

Ahhh fuck. I never had it like this before. I mean damn. He was deep in my pussy had me creaming and leaking sweet juices all over the bed and his dick. But he was taking his time with it. Every time I tried to look away. He moves my head to him and tells me to look at him.

“Every time you look away I will go harder and deeper. … ok think I’m playing mmm mmm mmm .”

“Oooh fuck you not playing damn. Ok ok ok mmm shit yes yes yes yes fuck I’m squirting already but keep going.”

“You can scratch me up if you want to. It’s all good baby. Ahhhh fuck hell yeah.”

“Ahhh shit yesss don’t stop. Don’t stop.”

“Baby you’re phone blowing up…‘mmmm fuck why now.”

“It’s prolly work …. ohhh shit.”

“Won’t me to answer it? Hmm won’t big daddy to answer it? Mmmm”

“'Mmmm fuck that phone and focus on this pussy.”

“Ohhh yes, my queen. Ahhhh fuck fuck shit.”

*8 missed calls* *2 voicemails* *1Text Notification* “Husband: baby I’m sorry call let’s talk”

“You’re phone ringing again, baby lemme answer this shit.”

“But baby don’t stop.” I say with a naughty pouty face.

“Don’t worry baby Ima still hit this pussy. And talk at the same time… it’s your husband. Allow me.”

“Hey baby look it’s not what seems....”

“Hey ,sorry, bruh she's really occupied with me right now. ”

“What.. WHO THE FUCK IS THIS?!”

“Her ex nigga who’s about to be her new nigga all over again. Don’t believe me? Moan baby!!!”

“Ahhhh fuck yesss yesss yesss don’t stop ooh ohh ohh ohhh yes yes don’t stop.”

“ Well as you can clearly hear the lady is done with you and just getting started with me. Deuces nicca!” *Slide To Power Off* “Mmmm that shit was sexy daddy. Made me wetter.”

“Mmmm lol I can tell. I got you, don’t worry. I told you baby. Now bend over for daddy …. yeah… arch that back mmm yes just like that take this dick.” “Ahhhh yes yes daddy daddy yes damn.”

“Throw that ass back …. ohhhhh hell yea!!! There ya go.”

“Mmmmm shit I’m creaming and cumming again.”

“It’s ok just let it all go on my dick. Making love to this pussy. How feel baby? ”

“ It feels soooo fucking good daddy damn I needed this …. fuccck!!!!!!!”

“I know baby I know Gotdamn!!!! ”

To be continued….

🎶Baby you know who I am and girl I know just who you are We ain’t gotta rush into shit cause being in love is too hard I’m tired of all these flashing lights, girl we should just fuck in the dark Once you let me in it, I'mma get to switching, different positions Have that ass wishing that I was your nigga Wishing that I was your nigga, yeah yeah yeah Wishing that I was your nigga, yeah Once you let me in it, I'mma get to switching, different positions Have that ass wishing that I was your nigga🎶

MrsKandiiBaby💋🍭👅💦😏😘😜

[resurrectionofdawn]

She Made Him Mine ch 5/6?

Age 7

He is seven when he first kills a man. In the scheme of things Dr. Ivanovich had been of no real importance to Hydra. He was one of a half-dozen giving Sasha an examination that day.  Since he was alone with the normally complacent child, he allowed his hands to move farther than was professional.

 The staff in the adjoining room are startled by the sound of a body hitting the door with considerable impact.

 A string of unknown words flew from the doorway, the boy reaching the downed doctor before the adults could.  Still hissing in the foreign tongue, the small child grabbed the lapels of Ivanovich’s lab coat and hauled him to his knees. The doctor is dazed, moaning in pain as he tries to focus. Several medics have already called security.

“Be fortunate that my father sleeps.” Sasha spits, giving him a shake before stepping back. His would-be abuser has finally regained his wits. That was all Sasha had been waiting for.

The doctor only has time to realize the boy is in front of him before there is a strange heaviness in his chest. Several of the medics scream; Sasha has plunged his left arm to the elbow into the doctor's chest. The Soldier's son makes sure to meet the eyes of the man he has just killed before pulling his arm free. That there is no blood staining the limb yet still a hole in the victim's chest somehow makes the action more terrifying.

 Sasha turns away to let the body drop just as a heavily-armed squad arrives. A glance to the head scientist from beneath blond locks freezes the man in his tracks. “None of you will ever examine me again without two others in the room.” Sasha states calmly “Since I was alone with him, Dr. Ivanovich decided to take liberties with my person. I have disabused him of that notion.”

Age 10

Mission to Paraguay

Strike member is screaming as he is hauled into the jet, right leg a bloody ruin. He's dropped onto the medical​ cot and two other members begin triage but by the grim set of their faces, it doesn't look good.  

 Lethe pushes past the agent, eyes silently asking the man's condition. Barlowe shakes his head. Lethe growls, grabbing onto the injured man's head. “Ryan,” Sasha forces eye contact. “Ryan, do you want to live? Will you trust me?”

 The injured man swallowed heavily giving the teen a faint nod. “Don't fight me. Jackson, hold him down.”

 Not understanding what he's doing, Barlowe asks “What do you want me to do?”

 Sasha gives him a half-grin as his hands glow bright blue. “Get ready to catch me.”

 The strike team watch in horrified fascination as their teammate’s destroyed leg begins to restore itself. Ryan's pained screams lower to whimpers and groans before he drops back to the cot unconscious.

 Sasha stumbled backwards, panting heavily, face gray.  He opens his mouth to speak but his knees buckle. Barlowe wrapped his arms around the teen before he hit the floor. Sasha hung limp in his grasp, a broken doll.

 Jackson looked around the cargo bay at the rest of the team. “We all saw that, right?”

 Most of the team is pale, shocked. “Kid never said he could to that.” Rumlow muttered. Barlowe scooped up Sasha whose eyes fluttered. “You back with us, Kid?”

Burning green slits meet his gaze. Golden lashes struggle to open wider, right arm reaching feebly towards the battered green pack that the base armory treated like the Ark of the Covenant.  Slim fingers made a clutching motion before falling limp.

“Barlowe, you know the kid better than any of us,” Jackson’s attention was firmly on Lethe’s face as he lay limp in Thomas’s arms. “Tell me I’m seeing things and that Lethe is not making like a damned mummy.”

Rumlow surged away from the bulkhead he was leaning against.  “The hell?”

Jackson was right; the teen was literally skeletonizing in front of them. Sasha was quickly put on the floor amid worried mutters from the team. “IV,” snapped Barlowe. “Get a line in him, run it full out. If we lose him, more than the Soldier is going to kill us.”

Brock lunged for the backpack and upended it. A plethora of knives and ammunition fell from the middle pocket. “There’s gotta be somethin’ in here to help. He’s dying.” The Strike leader growled, giving it a vicious shake. The pack's weight abruptly increased; a sloshing noise coming from the largest pocket.

 Yanking it open, Brock discovered a small scroll, and four IV bags of an indigo color. “Get a second line in him; this might help.”

“How long to base?” Jackson called to the pilot. The other members shuffled back to their seats while he slid another needle into the too-thin arm.

“Another four hours.”

Jackson cursed before grabbing the pack, pulling a bag of blue out. He threaded it, handing it back to Rumlow so he could suspend it somewhere. As soon as the blue stuff hit the boy’s bloodstream, Sasha’s body began to regain some color. Jackson sighed, running a hand over his face. “Radio ahead and apprise them of the situation. The Asset is awake, maybe it knows what happened.”

A groan from Ryan showed a struggle for consciousness. “What hit me?” The younger Strike member raised up onto his elbows, looking around blearily. “What’s wrong with Lethe?”

“Kid saved your life and nearly died doing it.”

 Brock set the other bags next to Lethe, pulled out the scroll. Uttering a quick mental prayer for it to not be trapped, he broke the seal.

 For the foreseeable future, the block has been lifted. There will always be restorative mixtures inside. The Child will need a new infusion soon. He will need one every three hours for the next several days.  

 Rumlow paled as he watched more words flow across the scroll, sharp jagged words that literally dripped red, a strong burnt smell accompanying them.  

 We WILL find him.