poesbeforeprose

[poesbeforeprose]

Chapter 5: Spoiled (NSFW)

Something about her scent stuck with me hours after she left. I laid in bed in a restless stupor trying to convince myself that everything she consisted of was the antithesis of me. She debriefed me on what she and Price discussed and I was floored by her tenacity. In a flurry of words and motions she described her balls to the wall idea and I couldn’t help but feel exasperated. However, seeing her with that feral grin, brushing her hair out of her face passively, I was completely enamored with her. It was endearing to see that after being threatened and intimidated by her, deep down she had such a dark and concerning childlike joy to killing and planning.

To have the mission be perfectly executed, we needed to decide on a few things. First I was to be placed deep within enemy territory. I was then given a fake name and identity to go by. All of which was provided by Nyx and Task Force 141. I was lucky enough to then be dubbed “Vaslov” for the time being. The process itself only took a few days to get me by. Teach me a few phrases, get me used to the sights and parts of the culture then boom. Before I knew it, I was an almost believable in my persona of being a very shitty Russian. It also helps with never being “from the Mother country” and being a tourist on sabbatical. It all seemed pretty squeaky clean.

I was sitting across the cafe from a cluster of men with sharp crew cuts, well pressed suits and concealed weapons. Absolute overkill for anyone getting their macchiato for the morning. The target was one of Makarov’s small lieutenants. The part of Vaslov was to be set in a situation where he would be at the right place at the right time. My heart was hammering in my chest when one of the burly bodyguards made eye contact with me. He looked over his black shades at me and sneered. I nodded my head, and appeared to look busy on my laptop. Although I was admittedly scrolling through useless blogs and pretending to research.

Yuri “The Silencer” Sochev was not some bloody butcher unlike his predecessors and peers. No he was a man who, much Ghost and Soap, dealt in information and manipulation. He was not a man who got his hands dirty but if he wanted the truth out of someone, he would get it one way or another. However, most of the heavy lifting was done by the thugs that often accompanied him. The four of which were sure to make it known that anyone who got too close to Yuri would definitely not have a cappuccino anytime soon. One of which, the tallest of them, approached me and took the chair away from my table as they waited. He sat down, crossed his legs and I noticed a small hitch in his ankle. His shoes were wearing his feet down raw and he definitely didn’t want his buddies to know at this moment.

“Just stay calm. Soap and Ghost are right around the corner.” Nyx whispered in my ear. “Nod if you understand.”

I bobbed my head forward randomly then rolled by head to crack my neck. I made sure not to snap a glimpse at Cross Leg Joe to my immediate right.

“Smooth. I think he bought it.” She finished. I could almost hear the grin in her voice. My blood felt like needles in my arms.

The next part of the plan could have been simple. The key word being “could”, but if it’s one thing I could trust in the world, is how shit could go sideways so fast for Nyx and her crew. I tried not to look too much into my messenger bag, seeing the butt of the pistol I was given just peeking out of the side. Instead, I fiddled with my laptop just as an alert rang out from it.

In a fucked up synchronicity, the ping from my laptop caused the four bodyguards and Yuri to jolt upright. As I was apologizing profusely, the door bell chimed as Soap and Ghost walked in brandishing black pieces of iron.

“For the glory of Makarov!” Soap shouted in a terrible Russian accent.

Gunfire rang out and in quick succession, the four bodyguards were put down and Yuri was clipped in the arm. The waitress who was an innocent bystander was not harmed whatsoever. Now the next part of the plan was the least likely to be believable with those knowing the truth nature of Soap and Ghost. As the would be assassins laid waste to the coffee shop, it was now my job to jump in as if to save the day. I leapt from the table just as Yuri started to take a dive and I shouted a string of Russian slurs and curses towards the two.

We had planned for this to be a hit and run operation but as I was getting from the table, Ghost put himself between Soap and I. The original plan was for me to cold cock Soap across the jaw with as hard a hit as I could manage. Instead, he took it upon himself to call an audible. Masked or not, my adrenaline didn’t know the difference, but there was a small glimmer of joy from his choice. After all, there was a compromising interest between the two us. Fuck you Simon, I thought just as my fist collided. I felt a small pang jolt up my arm and his jaw cracked underneath my knuckles.

Ghost whipped back around both shocked and furious with the shot and we stood there in silence. Soap had his eyebrows on the top of his head and his only thought was to grab Ghost by the shoulders and haul him up away from the scene. After all, I still had clean up to do and a place to prove. As they left the cafe, I turned to the carnage and although it was tactical, it still proved messy. Perfect. The four bodyguards were down effectively and the waitress was currently calling the authorities. Suddenly a hand was wrapped around my ankle. The huge sausage like fingers belonged to Cross Leg Joe who was currently bleeding out from a massive wound in the neck.

He looked me deep in the eyes and all I could see was fear. Afraid of death, of his light going out. I hardened myself to this look as best as I could. All I managed to say to him was, “I’m sorry.”

The waitress was now finished with her phone call and I could hear sirens in the distance.

“Get to work there lieutenant. Be seeing you.” I heard Nyx said and then my earpiece went silent.

I jerked the bud out of my ear, tossed it into the trash and looked at the waitress. Now my turn began.

“Water!” I shouted to her, slowly getting the jacket off of Sochev to get to his wound. His eyes were rolled up in his head and I felt for a pulse. It was extremely weak but it was there.

Just as I got his arm propped up and ready for cleaning, a piece of steel was pressed to the back of my head. My heart leapt into my throat and I slowly raised my hands. Whoever was behind me was speaking in Russian in a deep and unsettling tone. I couldn’t understand a word her was saying and even though I looked at the waitress for help, she was practically relaying his message as an echo. She was frantic with the blood and glass around her.

“American! American!” I shouted in response, praying to whatever God above that he understood me.

“Don’t touch him. Hands off.”

“Medic. I am medic.” I said trying to keep my composure while using my accent as best as I could.

The gun pressed harder against my head, “He dies. You die.”

Fair enough, I had slid my bag over to me. Casually peering at the pistol resting in the bottom of the bag for a moment. I lifted one of the flaps of the outer pocket and pulled out a few things that wouldn’t completely be out of the ordinary for someone who traveled with an emergency kit. Bandages and so on were scattered about the floor. In the meantime, the man behind me patiently watched me work. Although I never saw his face, I could sense the finger itching against the trigger to do away with me altogether. Honestly I couldn’t blame him because with all things considered, I can guarantee he was wanting a little revenge right now.

I found myself sitting in the backseat of a blacked out sedan as we drove through the dying light of Russia. A few things had taken place between the cafe and now, but most importantly was that I had been blindfolded. My knees knocked the gentleman who had threatened me earlier to my right and I sat up a little straight. The slumped body of Yuri was strewn out over the other seat and the silence in the cab was deafening. All the while, I felt a wave of exhaustion hit now that the nerves were gone.

The first part of the plan was done, but now came the hard part. Getting into Yuri’s good graces or at least impress him enough to get the team a little closer to Makarov. Right now I was just trying not to get killed. I could hear Yuri coming to as he groaned once again. After a moment he sat up and began speaking to the man. With a few lines between them, eventually he changed his tune to a little more focused American. Not perfect by any means to someone back home, but his accent couldn’t be removed.

“So Dimitri tells me you saved my life.”

I turned my head to his voice, “Yes sir.”

“You are also American.”

“Dah.” I said with my make believe Russian accent.

Dimitri and Yuri had a small chuckle over this and spoke between themselves again.

“What do you wish of me?” Yuri finally said as the car came to a stop.

“I’m sorry?”

“A life saved is rewarded in kind. Unless you meant to end my life until Dimitri intervened.” Yuri replied.

A bead of sweat threaded through my brow, “Ah. No. I meant to save you. Part of my oath.”

“Ah, your oath as an American? Or as a doctor?”

“I believe doctor is universal, especially now.” I muttered. I could hear Yuri chuckle again.

Suddenly, Dimitri was shoving me out of the car and I collapsed onto the grass with a thud. I managed to get my feet underneath me as I was pulled up and the blindfold was torn off.

The manor before me took my breath away. It was a sight to behold and seemed to leap from a Dostoevsky page. A sprawling estate complete with gravel driveway, fountain, staircase that led to large doors. Dimitri took the binds off of me as well and gave me a gentle shove up the steps. Yuri was shaking off the grogginess as he made his way up. The doors opened as a butler was already taking his coat from him and welcoming me with a short bow and gesturing me into the foyer.

There was a staircase in the center of the foyer that went up to the second floor which doubled back above us to the left and right into a row of rooms. I was standing there awkwardly until Yuri turned to Dimitri speaking in Russian. After a little bit, he disappeared and Yuri changed to English.

“Don’t worry, he is going to get you a gift from me. I will pay you a meal and a night sleep here for saving my life. Consider it a courtesy.”

“Absolutely. Thank you sir.” I managed and couldn’t decide to bow or not. I opted to shake his hand.

The butler, well into his fifties, motioned me to follow him. Although we didn’t go up the stairs, I was led to a smaller room on the bottom floor. As the door swung open I saw a four poster bed, two large dressers and an armoire to my left.

“Enjoy your stay sir.” The butler said with the doors closing behind me.

In the span of a few minutes, I was given a meal and the suspicion was gathering. I had no contact with the team but now that I was well behind borders, I prayed that they would reach me somehow. After my dinner was delivered, the butler told me that he was preparing dessert as well. He also instructed me to get comfortable and see myself to a bath if necessary. I didn’t want to be rude so I managed to sit in the claw footed bath and eventually found my way back to the room with a towel draped around me. A swift knock was at the door.

“Come in.” I said out of necessity. What came next, sent me spiraling.

Walking through the doorway, with a lustful sway of her hips was a gorgeous blonde woman. She was smaller than me and was wearing a tight fitting dress and her heels softly clicked on the tile floor. I felt my cock budge against the soft fibers of the towel and I did my best to cover myself. It wasn’t until she was closer that I lost all control and felt all of my blood rush to my loins. Her dark eyes met mine and I realized who I was staring at. I was sure of it.

Nyx Stevenson, ever the surprising act, had somehow managed to work her way through whatever defenses Yuri possessed and got to my room. Before I could even say anything she was within a foot of me. Her finger gently pressed to my lips.

“Don’t speak. I’m your gift.” She said, her voice masked with a seductive Russian accent of her own. My eyes rolled back as her voice curled in my ears.

She pushed me back to the bed and when I landed my towel became threatened to be undone. It also didn’t help that my swollen member was trying to make his way out of containment. Nyx took a step back and toyed with the side of her dress. In a flourish of her tender hands, she slinked out of the attire and let the dress hit the floor. I had to have looked ridiculous because I could feel my mouth hanging open.

Her body was beyond anything I could’ve imagined. Perky breasts with petite nipples already harder than I expected. She stood there to let me admire her a little longer. Her hands curved down the shape of her body until she hit the hem of her underwear. I could feel a small dribble of precum leave me sticky underneath my towel at the display. After her underwear fell, she left the heels on and began to straddle me.

“Ny-“ I began.

“Nikita. Nikita Petrov you’ll call me.” She cut me off.

Her naked breasts touched my chest and the contact sent an electric charge through my body. It was if I was electrified in that moment and my cock was begging to be released. Her lips slowly caressed my neck. She kissed my earlobe and just under her breath she spoke again.

“The room is bugged. Be careful of what you say.”

Before I could even process the information she worked her lips across my chest and up the other side of my neck. She hadn’t even done anything to me and I was already swimming with pleasure. My heart was racing at the impossibility of this as she spoke again. I slowly wrapped my arms around her, softly cradling her perfect ass in my hands.

“We’re being watched. Yuri gets off to watching.”

“Ny-Ni-. Please I can’t handle it.” I moaned.

Her free hand slipped down past my waist until the palm of it was grasping the base of my cock. It bucked once at her touch and I could instantly feel a small release. There was no way I was going to last long with her.

“Fuck. I-.” I started but before I could say anything else she had my towel splayed on the bed and was looking down at every inch of me.

“Nikita wait, I…”

Nyx looked at me, a small look of wild pleasure in her eye. With a flick of her wrist, I was inside of her.

Every inch of her felt molded to my throbbing cock in that moment. I could feel my heartbeat against her walls and how delectably slick she was. I had trouble believing all of this was for me, but that first initial push was soul-stealing. She slowly slid herself down on top of me as far as I could go until our hips were locked in the grasp of sweat of fluids.

“Fuck.” I whispered. My eyes furrowed with a mix of emotions. Worry, pleasure, lust, and longing all came flooding through my mind. I could barely focus on the woman I would ever want the most dominating me for the sake of a mission. This couldn’t be real. She slowly rose up from the base of my cock and then lowered herself back down. The first stroke made me gasp.

In seconds she was slowly rising in speed and ferocity. With her stroke she was riding harder and deeper on me, her eyes staring deeply into mine. One hand was on the bed and the other was tangled in my hair on the back of my head. It wasn’t until she moaned once for me and it was over.

“Oh my god I…” I moaned and I felt myself come inside her. Several throbs bounced against her soaked walls as my warm load filled her up. When I gasped in release we were staring at each other and I was exhaling directly into her mouth. She was stealing the very voice from me with how close she was to me.

“Fuck.” I whispered.

[poesbeforeprose]

Chapter 4:

Hours passed. The house was incredibly silent between the two of us, but eventually when Price returned I fulfilled my mission.

“What did you do to her?” He asked while putting out his cigar with his boot.

I was sitting on the back porch when they arrived. My fingers fumbled with the buckles on my med bag as I picked through the thoughts racing in my mind. I looked up with a smirk, “Just was my annoying self is all.”

“Copy.” He said with a chuckle. Soap and Ghost passed with a nod each and I was once again alone outside.

The sun was now setting over the mountains to the west and it cast long shadows like fingers across the land. I plucked the wooden step underneath me until I could feel the flakes shatter under my nail. There was a comfort in the rhythmic sensation and I sighed heavily. Who was I kidding? Why would I press her so much when I hardly even know her? I’ve spoken to her for a total of barely an hour so the crushing feeling I felt turn in my ribs made me feel foolish. I hung my head between my knees and groaned.

The thought of her alone was intoxicating. I could still envision her dark eyes on me, studying my face and watching my hands attentively. I closed my eyes and thought of a world where I could’ve stayed behind that night in the hospital room with her. I could’ve waited for her to wake and had a proper conversation with her. Maybe, somewhere in this world of make believe we would’ve had coffee. Maybe I could’ve convinced her how beautiful she is as well as being one of the most deadly women I had ever met. A slight tingle on the back of my neck danced across my skin. I let my mind wander for a little too long and when it came to a head, the door behind me shifted.

“Chow time.” Soap muttered. I kicked against the steps and marched inside to whatever came next.

Dinner passed without much of us saying a thing. Although the group themselves could be as chatty as they wanted, I felt like the awkwardness grew nevertheless. Nyx herself didn’t leave her room until Ghost got up and disappeared for a moment. When he returned she was behind him then sat silently a few chairs down from me. I had to get it together because as soon as that raven hair turned the corner my heart pounded against my ribs and I almost choked. I quickly focused all the strength I could to not die from embarrassment.

I managed to pry a few questions from them. Favorite songs, movie references, things we would prefer to do with our free time. It was like pulling teeth with them as I was the odd man out in their little cohort. I internally sighed at the frustration of it all. I couldn’t imagine a place where they could be a team with me along for the ride. I just didn’t fit in at all with them. The only thing I cared about, I realized, was that woman sitting less than eight feet from me. I didn’t care about titles or medals or stories of valor; it was her I wanted. I kept my eyes fixed on my plate before me thinking of all the things I wish I could say to her about this afternoon, but in the end it was not my place.

About two hours after we all left for our rooms, a small knock came from my door. I sat up in bed, my journal resting across my chest and saw the curve of light underneath the door. Another short, sharp knock came and I got up without a word. I cracked my door just a few inches and my heart fell to the floor again. Nyx, framed in the soft amber light of the living room behind her, was looking at the floor. My lips began to part but she spoke first.

“Sorry. For slapping you.”

I couldn’t mask my surprise as my lips parted further as I inhaled sharply. My heart rate thrusting forward within me. I tried to find the words but then she looked up at me with something in her eyes I didn’t expect; honesty. I was falling inside myself over and over. The soles of my feet seemed to melt into the floor as our eyes met. Time seemed to stand still and I tried to decipher her thoughts through facial expressions alone. I took the time to steal glances as her lips, her cheekbones, and her exquisite jawline. I never in a million years expected her to ask forgiveness yet here she was three feet away.

“I uh…it’s okay.” I stammered. “I shouldn’t have said anything to begin with.”

Her eyes narrowed a bit. I could tell she was studying as much as I was studying her in this moment. A mental chess match neither one of us wanted to play or be involved in. However, given the circumstance of us standing within breathing distance, her eyes danced across my face again and then back to my eyes.

“You were just expressing good bedside manner.” She finally said. Very clever Nyx. I couldn’t help but grin lightly.

“Well, I still don’t know why I’m here but I can at least be nice about it.”

Her eyes fell to the floor for a moment, “Sorry. I was impulsive. I made the demand for you specifically.”

Although it was already known without being said, I still could feel my brain rocket into the stratosphere. Her voice alone admitting the smallest of difficulties to me was more than enough. My breath hitched in my chest for a beat before I could respond.

“Is there any particular reason for that? There are plenty other medics out there.”

The silence between us was palpable. While she continued to stare at the floor willing the words to bubble up, I took this opportunity to bask in her beauty. She was smaller than me sure, but a tight coil of muscle ran beneath her skin. Her training and resilience showing through was tantalizing. Her lips curved delicately and I itched within to just hear her speak. I decided then that I just loved to hear her speak. Traveling south, I noticed a slight slump in her shoulders, mental weight she had either burdened herself with or been burdened with from her past. I would stand here forever until we were both nothing but piles of dust waiting for her to speak.

“I remembered waking up briefly in the hospital room. I remembered hearing your voice.”

Everything in me wished to curl up and die from embarrassment at that moment. Oh god it was not my finest moment.

“Oh? What did you hear?”

Nyx smiled shyly, “Your friend wasn’t impressed with your courage.”

I’m going to kill him. Whenever I get back to the states and back on base I will throttle him until he turns blue.

“Oh, oh that’s just, great.” I fought to admit. Her little smirk had crept up my spine and wormed its way into my brain. To see her smile although it was at my misfortune. She brush a small tuft of hair behind her left ear. Suddenly her scent of lavender and bourbon was on me again. My legs buckled for a moment as my thighs tightened.

“It wasn’t that bad. I didn’t mean to scare you.” She admitted.

I shook my head trying to right myself, “It’s okay. I just was worried. Not every day you see a cadaver come alive.”

Her eyes flashed up at me again and my throat closed up, “I guess you’re right. I’m so used to making them that I never expected myself to be one eventually.”

“It’s a great callsign though. I gotta admit. Could be worse.”

Nyx smirked again and cocked an eyebrow, “Like Odie?”

“Like Odie.” I agreed. We shared a small laugh and I felt the tension break. Silence again between the three feet space between us. I couldn’t help but feel a burning desire to just close the gap and make promises I would never keep.

I looked down her slender build again. Her feet were slightly inward as she stood there. She had arrived at my door with nothing but a tank top and shorts on and it was driving me wild to imagine what she shared with her mirror. And Simon, my mind echoed. I stiffened in my spot and the conversation between heart and brain became so cold I could barely breathe. I couldn’t even process the taper of her waist as her top hugged her ever so delicately. My eyes processed that she indeed didn’t have a bra on given the late hour.

“I asked the nurse about you the next day. I kept my intentions with me until I knew enough. I read your file. What made you stop pursuing special operations?” She finally said after a minute. It took me a little longer than I wanted because a wave of disappointment had hit me from the last mental hurdle. I shook my head and shrugged.

“Some people are cut out for it. I guess I wasn’t. It’s more my job to fix people and help them heal.”

Her face became sullen. “Unlike me. I leave people broken or buried.”

Silence again. I exhaled in a chuckle, “What a pair we are then. Life and death, the age old friendship.”

Her eyes met mine again and I felt heat rising from the soles of my feet. It was aggravating how this woman I barely knew could have so much emotional control over me. I didn’t want to admit or be dramatic, but I would go through Hell for her. Not because of some grand, sweeping gesture of love or desire, but because it just seemed like the right thing to do. The longer I looked into her eyes, the more internal strife I could sense. A secret she buried long ago and was the primary line of defense between her and everyone else.

“I don’t have many friends. Never really made time for them given the circumstance.”

“You have Simon.” I interjected. A flinch from her made me withdraw any additional comment.

Nyx shifted in her spot. Her eyes flicked behind her for a moment and my mind made the connection. The moan. The dinner. The silent guardian who went by the callsign that would strike fear in the hearts of millions. Oh God, I’ve fallen for forbidden fruit. Nyx pulled me from my living nightmare with a whisper.

“That’s true, but he has his own demons to face. We all do.”

I was torn between seeing this as an opportunity yet seeing it as a lost cause. “That’s true. We are human after all.” I muttered.

Nyx sighed, having an internal conversation of her own. “You’re insufferable.”

“Mom always said I was hopelessly optimistic. Part of the reason why I couldn’t hack it in spec ops.” I cast my gaze downward for a moment. She jolted through my senses as she took half a step forward.

“It’s admirable. That little glimmer of hope is what drives a lot of operators to see another day. We could use more of it on some missions.”

“Is that why I’m here? Hopeless optimism?” I said crossing my arms. Nyx rolled her eyes. The first sign that I was chipping away at that last bastion of her inner defenses.

“No. We have a mission for you. Well, specifically, I have a mission for you.”

My face went slack. I could feel my brow scrunch together in shock, “Excuse me?”

Her voice became silent, almost breathless and I strained to hear her, “I have a plan to smoke out a target. I’ve had a mission within a mission for some time now.”

I raised my palms, “I feel like I shouldn’t be hearing this. This seems extremely dangerous.”

Nyx stepped closer to me, her voice low and breathy, “Trust me. You’re in good hands. I know this is going to work. I needed a medic who could help me. You’ve done that. Now, I’m just asking for one last thing.”

My heart rate was through the roof now. I knew my pulse was apparent in my neck because she glanced sharply at the throbbing vein there. She looked up and smiled, “You don’t have to be nervous or anything. I’m not asking you to kill anyone. That’s my job.”

“Nyx what are you doing. Does Price know about this?”

Her face turned into a small grin, “He knows as much as I need him too. This idea is a gamble more than anything.” At the thought alone, of her being in her element once again, she lightly bit her lip. My cock strained against my shorts at the gesture. Once again, I got the feeling that she was aware of the effect she had on me. I couldn’t tell however, if she loved having me trapped here or if she was enjoying the idea of being back in the field.

#fanfic #longing #romance #slow burn

[poesbeforeprose]

Chapter 3:

It took me all of fourteen hours to screw up. I was torn from my slumber in the middle of the night by Price. He had pulled me awake to give me a few orders before he, Soap and Ghost left. “Whatever happens, do not let Cadaver leave this house.” Before I could even for a rational thought that would develop into a sentence he was gone from the room. My heart began to hammer against my ribs. Was he serious? Did he not know who she was? Did he not know who I am? “Price I…” I began to plead. I leapt from my bed and pulled the door free to see an empty hallway and a dead quiet house. God dammit. Hours had passed and I didn’t get another wink of sleep. Instead, I just lay in bed waiting for the sun to break but I heard the creak of a floorboard across the house. I bolted upright as she opened the door. I pulled my cover across my chest as I had been lying there shirtless and in boxers. “Where did they go?” Is all she said. “Hmm?” I said sleepily. “Who?” “Price. Soap. Ghost. Where are they?” Her voice was cold, venomous. I sat up a little more, really playing into the exhaustion I portrayed. “Not sure. They left before I was awake.” She slipped through the door and was a foot from the bed, “Bullshit. They went after Sokolov.” “I’m not sure who that is.” Nyx was hovering over me, bloodlust in her eyes. “Don’t lie to me. I know Price told you.” I’m not sure if it was the sultry yet demanding overtone in her voice but I couldn’t help but stare at her agape. My eyes met hers; pools of dark caramel that reflected bitterly in this beautiful sunlight. I could see her heartbeat through the pulsing vein in her neck. It curved up her nape and disappeared into the wash of her raven colored hair. To say I was aroused by this woman was an understatement, but the important part was that she was inches away from murdering me where I sat. I blinked slowly, “Nyx.” “Stevenson.” She corrected. “Stevenson. Okay. Look, I don’t know what the Captain has told you. I’m not your enemy here. I can honestly say he told me nothing. I give you my word.” Her eyes flicked down my chest to where my heart lay. I could tell she thought about how much force it would take to rend it free from my ribcage and dangle it above my face as I bled out. Watching her eyes trace my future corpse was like watching a viper eye it’s prey before striking. “Piss on your word. It means nothing to me.” She turned from me and stormed away. As she did so, I couldn’t help but allow my eyes to fall on her curves as she left. Even though she was barely over five feet tall, her commanding presence took up the entire room. Her hips tapered away into firm thighs and chiseled calves. I’m not sure if she meant it, but there definitely seemed to be a sway in her walk as she left; smooth, precise, and calculated. I exhaled quickly when I heard she was safely down the hall. I looked down the length of my chest thinking of how I was seconds away from death. Further down, past my navel, I had become fully erect from fear and then, embarrassment.

———

I managed to avoid her for most of the morning. I was also extremely careful to give her plenty of space as we navigated this open house together. At one point, I wanted to take a shower and made sure that she was nowhere to be found. She doesn’t leave this house. I heard Pierce say again. I held my hand on the curtain and waited for any sound from outside. Nothing. I left the bathroom and crept through the house actively listening to anything. “Stevenson?” I finally said. No answer. I reached the living room and there she was sitting in the chair motionless. Her leg seemed to be propped up on the rest in front of her. Her head held back against the headrest.

“Stevenson?” I said again, softer this time. I couldn’t tell if she was asleep or not. I slowly approached her and called out her name again. When I was finally close enough, I realized the true reason I was here. Beneath the cold and sharp exterior, I looked down at her legs to see a dark stain around her right lower leg. “You’re hurt.” I whispered. Suddenly, a pistol appeared from her hip and was tightly gripped in her hand. “Excuse me?” My nerves ran ice cold. It wasn’t until now that I had ever had a gun pulled on me. Her right index finger gingerly caressing the trigger. My throat closed around the fact that I was only a few ounces away of a squeeze with death. “Your leg. What happened.” The gun was still trained on me. I almost felt my feet once turning to slush began to root in their spot. Her eyes flicked open slowly, “Nothing. I fixed it myself. I’m fine.” So many insults I wanted to hurl at her, but knowing a piece of lead could be buried in me at any moment made me quiet. Still, something in me burned to push forward. The hollow feeling twisting in my guts began to solidify and my sweat broke across my forehead. “I’m sure. I just, want to make sure how good you did.” Her dark brown eyes fell on me again, I felt a shiver run down my spine. That look of bloodlust again and I could barely make out her finger twitch. “Please Stevenson.” I said. My voice slowly moving from quiet pleading to firm dominance. Even as I said it, it had been so unlike me to be aggressive. That feeling in my stomach slowly churning and burning into a spike in my lower abdomen. We held a gaze for a moment, and I finally saw her eyes begin to falter. Now or never, I would have to seize my moment with her. “I’m thousands of miles from home. I wasn’t told any details about why I was brought here. Price woke me up at the crack of dawn and I miss my cat.” I spat. It all fell out of me like a curse. She raised a single eyebrow at me. I lowered my hands from their submissive state. “Let me fucking help you. Please.” The silence returned to the house and the sunlight broke through the window. It fell on me enough that something changed in her face. She lowered her pistol and adjusted her leg. When the tension finally broke, I went back to my room to get my kit. When I returned, she was lying back on the chair further and had her leg fully resting on the small seat before her. I pulled up another chair and sat down less than a foot from her and began to dig through my bag for supplies. After I had pulled some gauze free, I looked down at her pant leg. “I uh, wait.” I didn’t have the nerve to ask her to outright strip down for me. Although my mind had the intrusive thought to really tempt the viper lying prone next to me. In that brief nanosecond, my brain shot several images across my eyes that ultimately ended in my death. Thus I decided to fall silent and just gesture at her pant leg. I closed my jaw and began to carefully roll it up her leg. She tensed. It was further up than I expected. “I’m sorry. I uh…” I started to mumble but she just looked down at me. Her eyes went to the ceiling as she unhooked her belt and unbuttoned the top of her pants. I quickly spun away from her to give at least a little privacy and decency. When all was quiet again, I turned slowly back to her, and my breath caught in my throat. She was stunning. Although her eyes were closed now, every part of her was battle hardened and sleek. My eyes danced across her bare skin with furious excitement. I swallowed hard against the bitter pill in my mouth. Her single leg had been effortlessly pulled free and was resting upon the seat. The other half was still dressed with her torn pants. Her waist had beads of sweat lingering around her navel as she pulled her tank top down. This caused my eyes to turn away quickly. I realized I had hungrily devoured every inch of her in moments and yet I was still famished. I cleared my throat. “Okay, let’s see the damage.” I said jokingly.

———

The process itself was done in minutes. My hands flew across her with deft precision as I mindlessly talked her through the procedure. I calmly asked her questions about herself but strayed from prying too much. I had to commend her on her thoroughness. She had dressed the wound itself as efficiently as she could have. Doused bourbon over herself to cut the infection, used a mix of torn bandages and perhaps her shirt sleeves as wrapping. The most impressive part was that she had used what appeared to be fishing line as stitching. “This is so good Stevenson. Did you do this last night?” I asked. “About a day and a half ago. Price must have known something was wrong with me.” She muttered. Her arm covering her head. She had been taking drinks of bourbon as I worked to dull the pain. “Ah. I see.” I clipped the line free to clean the gash out more. “Known him long?” She flinched as I swabbed the wound for her. “A few years now off and on.” I smiled, “I get that. He seems like a father figure.” I didn’t think anything of it at first but then I saw her face grow cold again. Okay, don’t bring that up I mentally told myself. A few minutes passed as I was wrapping up her leg. Carefully passing the gauze around her thigh, under her leg, and around again. Something about this motion was so tantalizing I almost forgot to make sure the bandage was relatively tight. I was too focused on not allowing my hands to not drift higher up her legs without permission. God I wanted her permission so bad. I mentally scolded myself and she noticed. “Something wrong?” I looked up to see her eyes meeting mine. I smiled as sincere as I could, “Not at all. We’re all done.” “Good.” She stated and, in a rush, pulled her pants back on and sat upright in a smooth motion. I held up my hands still holding the gauze in my off hand. “Easy! Easy. You’ve got to let yourself heal.” “No.” Nyx said, her eyes swaying across my face. My smile faded, “Seriously? Is this what you do? Get hurt, patch yourself up and try to rush back into combat?” She glared at me as if I twisted some knife, I didn’t know I held. “Excuse me?” I sat up on the seat. She was still taller than me by a small margin in this seated position and I felt my voice become matter of fact with her. “Stevenson, your leg is hurt. A vital artery was missed just barely and you’re wanting to get back out there? I admire your tenacity but for fuck sakes, give yourself a break.” She recoiled as if I had slapped her. Then her eyes narrowed again, “My men need me.” “And if you don’t get lucky again? What then? Are you trying to prove you’re as strong as them? Regardless, this is a serious wound and you have to rest. You won’t mean shit to them if you’re dead.” Her lips curled into a snarl, “I’m stronger than them. I’ve survived this long.” Something in me finally snap. I threw up my hands in defeat. “Fine. Cadaver is a helluva callsign for you to have but I don’t want you to end up one.” Her face curled as if to quiz me. She scanned my face, my eyes, poring over every part of me trying to chip through. I held her gaze and my breath. “You don’t know me. You don’t have to care.” Although I wanted to roll my eyes, I stared deeply into the pools of amber she possessed. “I do care. I care about every soldier that I can help. Even if I didn’t care, I know Simon does at least.” Her hand flashed across my cheek before I had a chance to react. The strike dazed me for a moment and then we were staring at each other in silence. Without another word, she left and slammed her bedroom door shut. I didn’t flinch at all. I could still feel every finger on my face.

[poesbeforeprose]

Chapter 2:

Four days. Four days had passed and I hadn’t seen height nor hair of this woman. I kept my head down of course, but after the mix up with her grabbing onto my arm for dear life, it struck a chord in me. The following day Keaton had teased me about it.

“You about leapt out of your skin!” He mocked.

I could do nothing but sit there and take the jokes. Even Natalie got a jab in or two. It was an embarrassing experience all in all.

Still, I stood in the kitchen of my small home staring blankly into my sink. Four days had passed and I could still feel the essence of her touch on me. The cling that lingered there, as if her nails pierced my dermis and tattooed itself there. I washed my hands again for the third time that day.

“I know bud, I have to get goin’. Someone’s gotta pay for your expensive taste.”

“Mrow.” He agreed.

Scratching him behind the ears, a sharp knock came from the front door. Jolting upright, I could see three tall, stark, looming shadows appearing from the world outside. I dropped my bag onto the counter and called out.

“Hello?”

“Lieutenant Thompson?”

Another jolt ran down my spine as I realized a few things. Most men at the station rarely addressed me by rank. The second was the sound of another voice that was gruff and slightly antagonistic. I immediately thought of Pierce. Oh no.

“Yes sir. Just a second.”

I carefully steeled myself to the coming barrage of insults and reports. I could almost feel my career slipping through my fingers. I slid open the door to face death and persecution head on.

In its stead, I saw three burly figures gathered at my door. The first, gaunt with age, a thick coat of facial hair of grey, white and black was the closest to me. The ones flanking him were roughly the same height and same build. To my left was one with a short cropped haircut in the style of a mohawk. The other was a sight to behold since everything about him was covered, especially his face. Draped around his head was a black balaclava with a tattered white skull printed on the front.

The elder spoke up, “Captain John Price. Pleased to meet your acquaintance.”

“Absolutely. Pleasure’s mine.” I answered quickly, hand outstretched. The introductions began.

Price gestured to his right, “Captain John MacTavish.”

“Soap.” He corrected, taking my hand in a firm grip.

Before he could even get the other word out, the grim figure left said, “Ghost.”

He kept his arms folded at first, his eyes sizing me up. A bead of sweat bristled along my neck.

“Nice to meet you all. How can I help you? Would you like to come in?”

“That won’t be necessary Lieutenant. We are actually here to pick you up.”

My guts fell to the floor again. “I’m sorry?”

“Get your things. You’re coming with us.” Ghost muttered. With that, he left.

Price grimaced then smiled a little, “You get used to him.”

I nodded, “Right. Sorry, I just needed a little more detail is all.”

Soap chimed in, “Right, long story short, you’ve been requested and us being the tenacious sort, didn’t want to wait too long.”

A polite meow came from my ankles as Diego appeared to greet our guests.

“Cute cat.” Price said, “Do you have a neighbor?”

“Uh, yeah my friend Keaton. Why? Am going to be gone long?”

Price scoffed and smiled, “Depends on how well you do.” Like Ghost before him, he too left me standing there with Soap and Diego. Soap just shrugged his shoulders.

“You get used to him too.”

———

Hours had passed. Several levels of clearance, a few curt nods and staying quiet through checkpoints, I was on a flight to an undisclosed location. This was a perfect combination for acute mental gymnastics to thrive as I initial thought I was going to be exiled, or court-martialed, and now I thought I was flat out being kidnapped.

On the flight, the three of them rarely spoke a word to one another. Just one gesture, some speaking in phrases or jokes only they knew and I sat there with my kit and bags prepped with me.

“Look, I feel like this was a big misunderstanding somehow.” I finally said.

Price chuckled, “It’s a little late for that now lad, we’re currently somewhere over the Pacific.”

“Oh, cool.” I muttered. The blood rushing out of my face.

“Need some crackers?” Soap joked. I felt like the spirit of Keaton wasn’t too far away after all. I simply shook my head.

“No, but I’ll watch an inflight movie.”

Soap just nodded in agreement and shot a look to Ghost.

“So, is anyone going to tell me where we’re going at least?”

“Classified.” Ghost uttered.

“Can anyone tell me why we’re going?” I said.

“Also classified.”

I slumped back into the seat and tried to close my eyes. Before I could drift off, I could hear Price finally speak up.

“Classified information is something we deal in a lot around here Lieutenant. Sometimes you just have to keep your head back and enjoy the ride.”

“Like a fine dame.” Soap stated flatly. Price told him to shut up with a single look.

“Excuse the Captain, sometimes his mouth doesn’t parlay with his brain before he speaks. What he means is that when orders come down to us, we simply act on it. Case in point.” He said gesturing to me. I nodded as if this made a little sense, but to be frank I still was lost.

“Right, so I’m on a mission, with three people I don’t know, who have patches I haven’t recognized but clearly you guys are pretty fuckin’ high up because most people don’t bat an eye at you.”

Soap chuckled, “Yeah, we’re kind of like rockstars. Like Nickelback.”

“The Rolling Stones.” Price added.

“Or the Beatles.” Ghost finished.

“And this is what you all do? Quips and escorts. None of you even asked my titles or past or anything. Just scooped me up.”

“Read your file.” Ghost started.

“Already knew everything we needed.” Soap said.

“Top marks, excellent shot, steady hand with a knife and certified to psychoanalyze the worst. The fact that you’re not in or wanted by Langley is beyond me.” Price brandished a folder out of nowhere and tossed it on the table between us. There, clear as day was my headshot and a small stack of papers bundled together.

Price shrugged, “Like I said, we deal in classified information so general info is pretty easy to come by. Don’t take it too personal.”

I felt a little less defeated at least, “No problem.”

A few minutes passed before any of us spoke up.

“Odie is a dumb fucking callsign.” Ghost grumbled.

———

After we landed everything began to become quite clear. I was rolled into a mission I was well under qualified for because whatever god above hated me. There was a penance on my head that I had to answer for and apparently that was being paraded around by three of the burliest jackasses this side of the Pacific. I could feel exhaustion run through my limbs as we eventually reached the safe house in some distant countryside. The location was specifically kept from me even though they already had any devices from me.

The door swung open and I strode across the threshold to be hit with the smell of a fire being stoked. Mixed with it was the faint scent of bourbon and something more. My stomach tightened when I finally pulled it all together. Task Force One-Forty-One, a distant land, and something I had stepped in. I turned my head to see her sitting by the fireplace, rifle pointed to the floor. Oh god no.

“Good morning Lieutenant.” She whispered. Her voice definitively different than our last meeting. It had almost a poisonous ichor to it. I was intoxicated instantly.

“Good morning ma’am, Captain, Sergeant, sir.” I fumbled.

The three behind me pushed me through the foyer as they made their way to the kitchen.

“Missus orders, found the doc.” Soap mentioned as he pulled some of his gear off.

I stared at her for just a moment then immediately at the floor. Some of this made sense, but would she be the type of person to drag me halfway across the world to murder me in cold blood? The knife she pulled from her hip had me thinking yes.

“Lieutenant Thompson correct? Welcome to the One Forty One.”

“Thanks, but I uh, don’t really know what I’m doing here.”

“No debriefing? That’s not nice Price.” She said, casting a gaze away from me. I lowered my bags to the floor.

Price shrugged, “Figured you wanted to keep your priorities close to your chest.”

“I did. Thank you.” She said.

She stood up and strode over to me. “So you’re a surgeon. A combat medic?”

My brow furrowed, “Um, yes? I mean, sort of.”

“Have you seen combat before?” Her dark eyes cut through me. She knew the answer before I even said it. My breath caught in my throat.

“No ma’am.” I finally said.

“Figures. You probably haven’t bothered with wet work before.”

I held my gaze to match hers. “No ma’am. Never have.”

She pursed her lips at me in a pout. “You expect him to be my plus one Captain?”

She said this aloud as if disgusted and turned from me.

Price answered from the kitchen, halfway between a bite, “He’s the best one on base and you and Ghost aren’t on good terms so yes.”

I twinged internally for a moment. Were they fighting? Had they double-crossed one another? Was this a sex thing? It all felt really awkward really fast. I finally noticed that I was the only one who hadn’t gotten comfortable so I picked up my bag again.

“I’ll uh, find my room.”

“I gotcha.” Soap said, shifting out of his seat. Crumbs of a sandwich resting across his shirt.

We turned a few corners until I was driven to a room in the corner of the house. A single window was letting the moonlight creep in. A lamp was already turned on and the bunk itself was just a little larger than a twin size bed.

“Home sweet home.” Soap joked. “Never mind Nyx. You…”

“Get used to her. I know.”

Soap smiled and patted me on the shoulder, “There ya go, get comfy, lights out in ten.”

“Uh, MacTavish, Captain, sir.”

“Soap, Odie. Just Soap is fine.”

“Soap, right. Can you give me a little light on what the fuck I’m doing here? I’m just a little freaked out is all.”

He thought to turn from me, walk away and leave the business behind but he sighed and shook his head. For a moment, we were of the same age, two linked in mutual confusion.

“Cadaver needs a medic because she can’t take care of herself. She asked for you specifically. If you want to know why, ask her.” He smirked with a half grin then walked off.

So, how would she know enough about me to make such a request? Who the fuck was she to think she had this kind of control? Actually, the question was how the fuck did she have this kind of control.

I sat on my bed hearing the slow thrum of my heartbeat. I clenched my fists and unclenched them to try and calm myself. Professionals. They were all professionals at what they did and I was being pulled into whatever it is that they needed done. What she needed done. A rush of anticipation flooded through me, a cold shock of adrenaline that bounced through my stomach. To be chosen with such high regard, by peers that were obviously renowned, was something special. I just hoped to not fuck it up.

#slow burn #romance #action #fanfic #longing

[poesbeforeprose]

Chapter 1:

I shifted in my chair as the chime caught my attention. A simple notice of an emergency call being answered. Not by me however. I was currently swiping through another chapter of “Love Lies Lost” as my coffee was going cold. Four in the morning was a haunting time for the base mostly because of how quiet and contained it had become. Most of our troubles were miles away and mine especially were just down the road. Unlike most people stationed here, I was able to finish my shift and go home if I wished but not much was there save my cat and stack of unread books.

“Odie.” My radio called. The voice I immediately recognized as Keaton was on the other line.

I closed my phone and clicked the comm, “Go ‘head Kit.”

“You should see this. Headed to you now.”

The line went dead shortly after which meant a few things. Either Keaton was going to personally show me some fucked up side of the internet he was entirely too proud of, he was about to show me something on his phone that would be suspect to prying eyes, or lastly something big just came to our station. The latter was the one that was the most rare. Keaton took pride in the fine and exquisite taste of raunchy and dark humor, but he also got a kick out of showing off all the subscription sites he was plugged to. In short, the guy was a perv, but who wasn’t in a quiet and lonely place like this?

After a moment or two, he rounded the corner into my small office space. Immediately his eyes were not of wild pleasure and glee, but instead were almost rounded with fright and dismay.

“Dude.” He whispered. He checked back into the hall and gazed about the room before saying anything. “You need to come with me to ER, right now.”

My boots hit the floor before he could say anything and I felt my heart flutter, “What’s up? Is something happening?”

He gave me a smirk, “Calm down cadet, no combat here. Except the Jane that just rolled in. You won’t believe it.”

I could feel my shoulders give way. Keaton also had this knack of sticking his hands deep into my brain and squeezing the exact nerve that triggered my anxiety. I could relax just a beat because I felt like he was about to tell me about the girl that just came into the station was probably “hot” or something.

“What is it? Is she dismembered or something?” I exhaled, pinching the bridge of my nose.

“Dude, no. The opposite. She has a nasty look about her. Scars from nape to neck and everything. I looked at her file really fast and came over. She’s practically a celebrity in some parts of the force.” Keaton, keeping his voice sullen and controlled was remaining vigilant to sharp ears.

“Oh? Big deal huh?”

“Yeah. Spec Ops brother. Task Force One. Four. One.”

I felt the pit in my stomach disappear into the floor.

——————————————

“Dude shut up and keep your head down.” Keaton said. Since then we cut through security checkpoints back to the way he came.

Standard procedure in this case would be extremely off the record and kept close to the chest. For me to even be in the same building Keaton works in made my palms sweat.

“I am not supposed to be in here right now.” I muttered as a nurse passed by. Keaton elbowed me in the ribs.

“Fuckin’ chill Brodie. You’re gonna be fine.”

He grabbed a clipboard off the nearest desk and pretended to be flipping through a chart as another gentleman at least in his forties strolled by. I could see the parade of demerits and flogging coming my way if we ran into the wrong CO. Please God if you’re up there, send as many guardian angels as you can.

“Henderson!” A voice shouted from behind us and we froze in our tracks.

God, you must really hate us right now.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Dr. Josiah Pierce, one of the oldest and crummiest men on the planet could turn anyone’s blood to stone.

“Dr. Pierce! Yes, my apologies for the late call. I was bringing Caleb Thompson up for my walk about. He is an orderly after all.”

Dr. Pierce’s steel grey eyes cut to the bone as he looked me over, “Ah. I’ve heard about you. I understand the skeleton crew call you ‘Odie’?”

“Y-yes sir. That’s a nickname.”

“It’s a shitty nickname.”

Keaton and I stiffened, “Yes. Yes it is sir.” I simply replied.

“Henderson, make this quick. We don’t have time for showboating and sticking our noses in shit that we can’t comprehend. We got her taken care of.”

Keaton was taken aback, “Got who taken care,”

“Cut the shit son, I know you were taking him to the op. Just be quick about it and get the fuck out of my wing.” Pierce muttered. Keaton snatched me by the arm and led me away.

“Yes sir. Right away sir.” He chimed.

After he was hopefully out of earshot I said, “Kit you’re going to get me strung up on display in the front fucking lobby.”

“Relax my compadre, we’re here.”

My eyes scanned the room, and there was a single nurse taking notes at the moment. Keaton, ever the charmer, strolled up to her right side, leaving me in the doorway.

“Natalie, what’s up lady? Doing alright in here?”

She didn’t even jump in the slightest as he approached her. Apparently she was used to this every night. “Hi Keaton.”

She turned to see me standing alone there, “And you are?”

“Thompson. Caleb. I’m just tagging along.”

“Yeah, Caleb here is a little bit of a fan when it comes to special forces, runs in his blood. Too bad he had a few bad run ins which sidelined him.” Keaton droned on. I looked at my feet as she looked me over. As the conversation shifted away from me however, it gave me an opportunity to slide over the bedside of the operative.

I could feel my heart slamming against my chest. First impression showed she was shorter than me, at least five years younger but battle scarred. I was careful not to touch her but just examine anything out of the ordinary. Although I’m certain she had already been in good hands. Her hair fell about the pillow in a wave of inky blackness. Looking over her arms I could see bruises, cuts, and even one long wound that had closed some time ago on her inner bicep. I swallowed hard as I tried not to stare too deeply into her facial features but it was like looking at a porcelain doll. Her skin was fair and taken care of, lips firm and unblemished, and a jawline that seemed so defined for her career choice. In a word, she was beautiful, but then I looked at her hands to see the other side of the story.

They were worn past their expiration date. Knicks, cuts, bruises, scars, and even her fingernails seemed to be damaged. Just looking at her I could tell that whatever past she had, whatever battles she had experienced, all of her stories boiled down to one simple fact. She has killed before and she was incredibly good at it. I gulped down the knot in my throat and exhaled softly away from her.

“So, get this Odie, wanna see something cool?” Keaton snapped my attention and I turned to see he was holding her file. He thumbed through a few pages and stopped on a note.”

“Check her callsign.”

He passed me the chart and I looked to see first her name and then the name that run a chill down my spine. Nyx Stevenson, code name “Cadaver”.

“Holy shit.” I muttered.

Suddenly her hand lashed out and latched onto my wrist. I didn’t realize I was that close to her still?

She groaned softly, almost a purr, “Simon.”

Keaton and I looked at one another, “Who the fuck is Simon?”

#fanfic #call of duty #romance #slow burn #longing #long post

[poesbeforeprose]

As a Libra, Hell yes.

Dating the signs/ aesthetics

Aries: late nights staying up asking the bigger questions about life. Watching movies over and over and over again. Waking up and seeing the love of your life and being overwhelmed with happiness. Good love.

Taurus: being lazy together. Waking in the kitchen only to see them half naked frying eggs and bacon for you. Hands around the waist. Innocent love.

Gemini: peaceful. Dancing in the living room at 3am. Pulling them closer only to be swept away just like the first time you met. Feeling like you’re on cloud nine. The smell of fresh roses on the counter. Airless beauty. A masterpiece kind of relationship.

Cancer: crying followed by an angry shouting match. Rough loving. As it goes on it gets easier. Brushing words off. Calm. Tranquility. Laying in bed whispering. Your favorite fruit on a Saturday morning. Time heals all wounds. Worth waiting for. Emotional love.

Leo: parties. Loud music. Hard kissing until you’re out of breath. Clinging to them like you can’t get close enough. Skin on skin. Glistening sweat. Cold feet. Kisses before you go to work. Kids in the back room playing. A teenage love story gone right.

Virgo: hand holding. Tracing finger along their stomach. Cracking your knuckles. Pleasurable pain. Meaningful words. Handwritten notes to you heaped with compliments. Attention in public. Scandalous. Playful love.

Libra: charming. Angelic. Words are everything. Timing is even more. Gentle touches. Words that slide down your throat. Breaths that caress your body. A love everyone yearns for. The perfect love.

Scorpio: meaningful apologies. I wasn’t thinking. I was in a hurry. I didn’t mean it. I forgot. I’m sorry. But I love you. Strong words. Worthless. Terrible. I hate you. Theatrical performance love. Stepping on eggshells. A trust love.

Sagittarius: overbearing. Overwhelming. Big heart. Love you’s are handed out like free kittens, giving them to anyone that will take them. A wanted love.

Capricorn: strong. Limited. Fun. You have rules that you must follow for them. When they find that person it becomes fireworks. Laughing until you cry. Warm sheets on a cold day. Classical music. Strict love.

Aquarius: lies. Mean. Arrogant. Rude. Deserves so much but is so hurt. Hurting from love. Love scars. A torn heart. Mend them. Be gentle. Give give give. A needing love.

Pisces: complicated. Hard. A dvd that just won’t play. Skipped songs that you repeated the day before. Cheek kisses followed by I have to go. Confused. A twisted love.

[poesbeforeprose]

5e Backgrounds: 8 Backgrounds For Your D&D Character...

Commoner 

You come from a humble social rank, perhaps working as a farmer, servant, or laborer. 

Although your background is not as glamorous as others, you find it easy to blend in wherever you go and have a sort of folksy wisdom that can sometimes help you out of a jam. 

When you choose this background, choose a profession that is found among the common folk, or roll a d20 and consult the following table to determine your  particular expertise. 

d20                         Result 

1–2                         Fisher 

3                             Forester 

4–7                         Laborer

8–11                       Messenger

12–16                     Serf

17–18                     Servant

19                           Shepherd

20                           Trapper Skill Proficiencies: Investigation, Persuasion

Trait — Salt of the Earth: Since you come from the ranks of the common folk, you fit in among them with ease. 

You can find a place to hide, rest, or recuperate among commoners, unless you have shown yourself to be a danger to them. 

They will shield you from the law or anyone else searching for you, though they will not risk their lives for you.

Suggested Equipment: Common clothes, iron pot, spade, tool kit (appropriate to your profession), 14GP, 4SP.

Guide

You know the wilderness like the back of your hand. 

You have spent many days and nights in the wild, sometimes traveling on your own but more often leading others along rarely used tracks and paths.

Skill Proficiencies: Choose two from Animal Handling, Athletics, History, Medicine, Nature and Survival.

Trait — Wanderer: You have an excellent memory for maps and geography and can always recall the general layout of terrain, settlements, and other features around you. 

In addition, you can find food and fresh water for yourself and up to five other people each day, provided that the land offers berries, small game, water, and so forth.

Suggested Equipment: Backpack, bedroll, hempen rope (50 ft.), tent, tinderbox, traveler’s clothes, waterskin, winter blanket, 40GP, 8SP.

Guild Thief

You made a living by stealing as a member of a thieves’ guild. 

The guild is similar to a modern organized crime syndicate. 

It exacts protection money from criminals and businesses alike, and uses its influence to keep the city watch focused on apprehending criminals who operate without the guild’s blessing. 

Necessity might have driven you to this work, having no other means to provide for yourself, or you might have been an orphan taken in by a thieves’ guild. 

Whatever your reasons, you learned how to slip into places where others would prefer you not go, neutralizing traps, locks, and sentries with uncanny skill.

Skill Proficiencies: Investigation, Stealth.

Trait — Thieves’ Cant: Among thieves, there is a secret language, a combination of jargon words and secret signs that members of the criminal underworld know and use. 

Creatures hearing you converse in Thieves’ Cant might think you say one thing when you are actually saying something else entirely. 

You have learned the secret language of thieves. 

You can correctly interpret thief signs and doublespeak, and you can communicate in this manner to others familiar with this language.

Suggested Equipment: Thieves’ tools, lampblack, oil can, breeches with secret pocket, small steel mirror, belt pouch, 18GP, 4SP.

Jester

You were employed as a jester by a noble. 

You performed acrobatic stunts, told jokes and stories, and provided entertainment for your employer and his or her guests. 

However, you also served a key role, lacing your entertainment with criticisms and observations too controversial for others to speak aloud.

Skill Proficiencies: Acrobatics, Performance

Trait — Licensed Fool: You enjoy the rare privilege of speaking your mind with little concern for repercussions. 

As a jester, it is your duty to use comedy to point out the absurdities of the world. 

You can criticize through the lens of humor without offense. 

In addition, you can gain access to nobles in order to perform. 

When traveling, you can usually find a meal and a place to stay in the local castle or manor house in return for a performance.

Suggested Equipment: Jester’s motley, tin scepter, musical instrument (your choice), book of bawdy poems and jokes, traveler’s clothes, 38GP.

Knight

You have successfully completed your training as a squire and earned the title of knight. 

Your title carries many responsibilities, and you are expected to behave in a chivalrous manner, protect the innocent, and mete justice across the land. 

You might be sworn to a noble house or be a wandering knight, questing for some prize or glory.

Skill Proficiencies: Choose two from Athletics, History, Insight, Intimidation, Perception, Religion and Survival

Trait — Knight’s Station: When you are among nobility or some other group that would recognize your station as a knight, you can expect to receive free accommodations and food for yourself and your adventuring companions for the duration of your stay. 

Certain nobles might decline, but this is a serious breach of etiquette and usually has social consequences.

Suggested Equipment: lance, token of affection, signet ring, sealing wax, light warhorse with saddle and bridle, grooming kit for horses, feed (seven days), traveler’s clothes, 32GP, and 5SP.

Minstrel

You wander the land performing music, telling tales, and entertaining audiences with your talents. 

Rarely does a community not welcome you in, as you bring news of distant lands to the common folk.

Skill Proficiencies: Performance, Persuasion

Trait — Noted Performer: You can always find a place to perform, usually in an inn or tavern. 

At such a place, you receive free lodging and food (within reason) as long as you perform each night. 

In addition, your performance makes you something of a local figure. 

When strangers recognize you in a town where you have performed, they typically take a liking to you.

Suggested Equipment: Fine clothes, ink, musical instrument (your choice), paper (five sheets), traveler’s clothes, 27GP.

Priest

You have pledged your life to serve a god, pantheon of gods, or philosophy. 

You serve as an intermediary between your chosen power and the mortal world, conducting sacred rites, offering sacrifices, and expounding the teachings of your faith to those you meet. 

When you choose this background, select a deity or power. 

Your knowledge and experience is drawn from your time as a priest in the service of that faith.

Skill Proficiencies: Religion, Insight 

Trait — Temple Services: You belong to a specific temple dedicated to your chosen power. 

You have a residence there, and you can perform religious ceremonies and offer sermons drawn from the sacred teachings of your faith. 

While near your temple, you can call upon acolytes and fellow priests for assistance, provided the assistance you ask for is not hazardous and you remain in good standing with your temple. 

Additionally, when you are in a location that has a temple, shrine, or other presence of your faith, you can expect to receive free healing, care, and religious services for yourself and your adventuring companions from others aligned with your faith.

Suggested Equipment: Holy symbol, flask of holy water, ink, ink pen, paper (ten sheets), vestments, 3GP, 9SP, 8CP.

Thug

Years of being a street tough have given you an aura of menace. 

Your look communicates a basic message to those who annoy you: You’d as soon break their knees as receive an apology. 

Threats and bullying tactics come easily to you. 

Your demeanor has landed you jobs with less-­than-­reputable organizations in the past, where you’ve provided both protection and muscle.

Skill Proficiencies: Intimidation, Athletics

Trait — Bad Reputation: No matter where you go, people are afraid of you due to your connections to the dangerous criminal underworld or your history of violence. 

When you are in a place of civilization, you can get away with minor criminal offenses, such as refusing to pay for food at a tavern or breaking down doors at a local shop, since most people will not report your activity to the authorities.

Suggested Equipment: Sap (equivalent to club), tattoo, half of a set of manacles, common clothes, 28GP, 4SP.

[poesbeforeprose]

Good evening all. It seems that I've made the leap.