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#the kick is worse than the beretta's but you get used to it
spahhzy · 5 months
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The plan!
Roman: Jaune, listen, I have a plan... a plan so glorious it's will put all my other plans to shame with how not glorious those plans were and -are you listening?
Jaune with Neo is currently just currently having his Tuesday tea date with her.
Jaune, annoyed: Yes, Roman, I know another one of your glorious plans. What is it this time?
Neo: Oh, lighten up, dummy. I'm sure it can't be worse than working with that fire bitch.
Jaune: Did you see the look she gave me? Rude!
Neo: She was trying to lay claim to someone that is already mine.
Jaune: Oh, I'm yours, am I? I clearly remember differently last night.
A kick to the shin was all he got as he looked at Neo's cute smile.
Roman: If you two are done being gross flirts, I can actually explain my super ingenious plan.
Jaune: I'm all ears Cap'n.
Neo: Go on!
Roman: We, as In You, me, and Neo, are going to sneak into Beacon as students, and STEAL whatever it is that Cinder wanted.
Jaune: ...wait, you believe what she was saying?
Roman: I did some digging, and she has whitefang in her back pocket, so it seems she is very adamant about getting in their.
Roman: So, it's gotta be something big, plus, I can fuck with Ozpin some more and that's always a plus.
Jaune + Neo: ...
Jaune: Uh, you know how the initiation process is right? Also how can we get in there? We never applied.
Roman: fear naught, my left hand of destruction l have already submitted our fake transcripts under false aliases.
Roman hands them ID cards.
Jaune: Tacitus Kilgore?
Neo: Beretta Stone?
Roman: annnd Rip Van Winkle as yours truly.
Jaune and Neo look at each other before both laughing.
Roman: What's so funny, I had to think long and hard on those names!
Neo: I think you just picked names out of a book and threw a few darts at them.
Roman: I-I did not! Look, we can do this, we steal whatever valuable is locked away right under Ozpin nose and flaunt in Cinders face before selling it off to the highest bidder!
Jaune: Roman, you know this is like a big commitment? It's like a year to four years, possibly depending on what Cinder does, granted we ain't helping them.
Roman: Trust me, Jaune, if all goes well, we can be in and out within the year!
Jaune: Alright if your sure...
Jaune turns back to Neo.
Jaune: How about you?
Neo: playing school for a while? Sure, why not. Plus, it would be fun to flaunt you around a bit.
Jaune blushes before smiling at Neo nodding he turned to Roman.
Jaune: Looks like you got yourself a plan.
Roman: Great!
Neo: Wait... aren't their teams of four?
Jaune: Oh yeah, I heard about that and that you get paired in two's as well, I think the first person you see is like your partner for the rest of your time their.
Roman: Relax, I will have that all taken care of when it comes down to it... As for our fourth member, I already made a call, and she will be down here shortly. Already ran it by her mother and her, and her mom was iffy at first, but with some...persuasion, I was able to get her to agree.
Jaune: Oh, Yangs coming too...oh boy.
Neo: The pun-she devil is going to torment us, oh the inhumanity!
Roman: I actually find her puns hilarious, mind you.
-
Else where on Bumblebee, coming to a stop just outside of vale.
Yang: I got the strange urge to torture two individuals, specifically with puns... hmm.
She continued her drive to vale.
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chicgeekgirl89 · 3 years
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A Tale of a Fateful Trip: Chap. 2
Fandom: NCIS LA
Characters: G Callen, Sam Hanna, Kensi Blye, Marty Deeks, Nell Jones, Eric Beale, Otis
Read Chapter 1 Here
                                    XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Callen returned much sooner than he should have, a grim look on his face. “Radio’s out,” he said. “And I’m pretty sure even if the engine is working, we’re not going anywhere. The board does…not look good.”
Kensi paused her bagging and swiped a hand across her forehead. “And we’re too far out for cell service.”
“Does Sam have a spare radio?” Nell asked.
“He does,” Callen said. “But Kam is camping with friends this weekend and he sent it with her.”
“Well that’s perfect timing,” Nell said. 
“Did you find anything interesting up here?” Callen asked.
“Just your standard bullets and whatever shell casings we dropped,” Kensi said. “Nothing special or unusual that would help us identify whoever was on that boat.”
“Okay then,” Callen said. “And Eric? How are things over the side?”
Eric was still hanging over the railing and gave him a thumbs up without lifting his head. 
Callen nodded. “Excellent.”
Meanwhile downstairs Sam was pulling up the panels that hid the engine. The area was already full of water. Sam swore. “Get a bucket. We’ve got to get some of this out of here.”
It took them ten minutes to bail enough water out to find the hole. “I’m guessing we need to patch that?” Deeks asked.
“I’ve got some supplies in the wheelhouse,” Sam said.
“I’ll get it,” Deeks said, moving back up the stairs. He and Sam worked for nearly thirty minutes to get the boat water tight again. “It’s a temporary fix,” Sam said finally. They were both soaking wet and dirty with engine grease. “At least we won’t sink.”
“What about the engine itself?” Deeks asked.
“Too wet to say,” Sam said. “Might dry out enough on its own, might need to be replaced.”
“But either way, we’re not going anywhere for a while,”  Deeks said.
“Nope,” Sam sighed. “We’re dead in the water.”
“What’s our status?” Callen asked when they’d returned topside.
“Water in the engine,” Sam said. “The radio?”
Callen shook his head.
The weight of the situation started to fall over all of them. Eric lifted his head, eyes wide. “Are we—-“
“No,” Callen cut him off. “No, don’t say anything. Let’s just…take a moment, and we’ll figure this out.”
It was certainly something of a shock to all of them to find themselves at the mercy of the ocean. Not that they hadn’t been in tight spots before, but this one seemed particularly tight and unexpected.
“Oh my god, we really are an episode of Gilligan’s Island,” Eric finally said in horror.
“No we’re not,” Sam snapped. “We’re on a boat, not an island, and I have enough supplies to last us a month at least.”
“Yeah spare blankets and water bottles aren’t going to be much help if our new friends show back up,” Deeks said, sinking down onto the deck since they weren’t going anywhere anytime soon.
“And I’m not really interested in subsisting on a diet of hardtack and MRE’s for the rest of my life, Skipper,” Callen said.
“Don’t call me Skipper,” Sam snapped.
“If Sam is the Skipper and Callen is Gilligan, who am I?” Deeks asked.
“You and Kensi are the Millionaire and his wife,” Eric said.
“What’s your reasoning on that?” Callen asked, pretending to feign disinterest. 
“Well they’re married.”
“Unless Beyoncé or Brad Pitt take a sudden interest in buying out the bar I think ‘millionaire’ might be a stretch,” Deeks said.
“And I’m not sure I’m good with being reduced to ‘and his wife,’” Kensi said.
“Wait,” Nell said, “if they’re the Millionaire and his wife who does that make you?”
“The professor,” Eric said with a grin. “Naturally.”
“I assume I’m Ginger then?” Nell asked.
Eric squinted at her. “No Ginger would be Hetty if she were here.”
“So I’m Mary Ann?!” Nell cried indignantly. “I don’t want to be Mary Ann! Eric I have red hair.”
“You can be Gilligan if you want,” Callen offered.
“We are not Gilligan’s Island!” Sam practically yelled.
“Okay, this isn’t productive, we can’t just sit here,” Kensi said, getting to her feet. 
“Some of us are lying here,” Deeks said, from where he was stretched out on the deck, an arm thrown over his face.
“Nell’s right,” Callen said. “We need to figure something out.”
“I can work on the radio,” Eric said right before he blanched and had to lean over the side again.
“Yeah I think maybe I’ll handle that,” Nell said, her nose wrinkled.
“I’ll come with you,” Callen offered.
“I’ll go take another look at the engine,” Sam said.
“And Deeks and I will gather up any other weapons and ammo we can find,” Kensi said.
“And I’ll—“ Eric gagged and then caught himself. “I’ll stay here.”
“Good plan buddy,” Deeks said, patting him on the shoulder. 
Nell stopped short when she walked into the wheelhouse. “Wow. Lucky shot indeed,” she said as she took in the damage.
It had apparently been more than one shot, the entire board was full of holes. She took a deep breath. “I think I’m going to need a drink.”
“C’mon,” Callen said, reaching out and touching a couple of switches, one of which fell off and dropped heavily onto the floor. “You’ve seen worse than this right?”
“Have I?” Nell asked, raising her eyebrows. “This thing looks like a piece of Swiss cheese.”
“Come on Mary Ann,” Callen nudged her shoulder. “The Professor’s been hit on the head by a coconut and the Millionaire and his wife are searching for their missing diamond so you’re our only hope.”
“Haha,” Nell said as she began to pull out wires. “You don’t have to stay up here with me.”
“Are you insinuating that I don’t have the skillset to help you with this task?” Callen asked with mock hurt.
Nell sent him a bemused look. “Would you rather I say it outright Gilligan?”
“Fair point. But I can hold things.”
“Fabulous.” She yanked hard and the entire top of the console came off. “Hold this.”
“Ah,” Deeks took a deep breath. “Nothing like an afternoon of weapons requisition on the high seas. Maybe after this we can swab the poop deck or walk the plank.”
“Don’t let Sam hear you say that,” Kensi told him as she pulled a Beretta from behind a wall panel. “He’ll probably take you up on it.”
“Touché.” Deeks looked at the weapon she’d given him and checked the chamber. “God this boat is better armed than the entire Navy. Where does he keep the grenade launcher?”
“I don’t think grenade launchers are standard issue for boats,” Kensi said as she clicked the panel back into place.
“Yeah well neither are Glocks, Sigs, and shot guns,” Deeks said. “I’m surprised the boat hasn’t sunk from the weight of the ammo on board.”
“And aren’t we glad he not only follows Navy mottos but the Boy Scout ones too?” Kensi said as she straightened.
“This takes ‘always be prepared’ to a whole new level,” Deeks said as he strapped a Glock to his thigh.
Kensi checked her watch. “Well I guess we’re not getting back in time for dinner with your mom tonight.”
“Gee what a shame,” Deeks said. “Missing dinner with my mother and her new boy toy might actually be the silver lining to this tragedy.” He scratched at his neck. “Although she is definitely going to freak out if we don’t show with no warning. She’ll probably call the Pentagon.”
“Well then at least someone will be looking for us,” Kensi said. “Can you imagine if your mom ends up being the one to save our asses out here?”
“Oh god,” Deeks groaned. “We’ll never hear the end of it. She’ll want a medal of honor.”
“Well at least then we’d be rescued instead of having to live out our days on a deserted island,” Kensi said. 
“I don’t know,” Deeks said. “Might not be so bad.”
Kensi raised her eyebrows at him. “You realize there are no cronuts on a deserted island.”
“Yes,” Deeks said. “But there are also no bad guys with guns. Or bills.”
“No indoor plumbing, no beer…”
“We can make coconut beer,” Deeks said then did a double take. “Actually, that’s not a bad idea.”
Kensi grimaced. “Yeah, no. It’s a pretty terrible idea.”
“Damn it!” Sam swore as the wrench he was using went splashing into the water. 
“Everything okay down here?” Eric’s voice drifted down the staircase.
“My boat is full of holes everything is damn well not okay,” Sam huffed.
Eric finished his descent and stopped at the bottom of the stairs. “You need any help?”
“I thought you were losing your lunch over the side,” Sam said.
“I think the bracelet is finally kicking in,” Eric said, holding up his wrist. “I’m ship shape now!”
Sam studied him for a moment and then pointed the rescued wrench at him. “If you puke down here…”
Eric held up a hand. “I will not. I promise.” He took a step closer. “Mind if I take a look?”
Sam sat back. “Be my guest.”
Eric poked around for a few minutes. “Nothing looks cracked or broken.” He fiddled with some more connectors. “I’m guessing you got water in the fuel.”
“Yeah that’s what I thought,” Sam said, face showing defeat. “Nothing we can do about that out here.”
He tossed the wrench against the wall where it made a dull clanging sound before it dropped back into the water. “Hey, this isn’t your fault,” Eric said.
“I know it’s not my fault. Doesn’t stop me from being mad about it.” Sam was seething. “If I find out who did this I’m going to put them in the ground.”
“You could send them to Davey Jones’ Locker,” Eric said with a grin, which he quickly wiped off his face at the sight of Sam’s now perpetual glare. “Or not. The ground is fine.”
Sam stood. “Come on. Nothing else we can do down here. Might as well go be useful somewhere else.”
“Aye aye Skipper!” Eric said with a mock salute. 
“Call me Skipper one more time and you’ll be floating home in a life preserver.”
Kensi and Deeks headed up to the wheelhouse to arm Callen and Nell then met Sam and Eric on deck to do the same. “Any luck with the engine?” Kensi asked.
“Tank is full of water,” Sam said. “Can’t pump it out here.”
“So we’re sitting ducks,” Deeks said.
“Pretty much,” Eric said. “How’s Nell doing with the radio?”
“It’s a mess,” Kensi told him. “There’s wires and tape and I don’t even know what else.”
“I’ll go see if she needs any help,” Eric said.
“You doing okay?” Kensi asked Sam.
He shook his head. “I’m just sorry we’re in this mess.”
Deeks put a hand on his shoulder. “They got the jump on all of us. There’s literally nothing we could have done.”
“Hey,” Callen appeared. “Eric said the engine’s no good?”
Sam shook his head. “Looks like Nell’s our only hope.”
“So…no different from any other case?” Deeks asked with a grin.
“Pretty much,” Callen said. 
“So I guess we just…wait?” Kensi asked.
It turned out they were incredibly bad at waiting and doing nothing. And it didn’t help matters when half an hour later Nell and Eric returned, Nell in a particularly bad mood. “It’s totally fried,” she griped, dropping down next to Callen on the deck. “Nothing we can do.”
None of them liked being beaten. It might have helped if they could have just sat back, had a couple beers, done a little more fishing, and hung out while they waited for a rescue from some passerby. But with the threat of possibly sinking or their new enemies returning to finish them off, nobody felt safe enough to get even slightly inebriated. 
That didn’t seem to matter after a while as Eric and Deeks began to brainstorm increasingly complicated scenarios to get themselves out of this mess. “Titanic!” Deeks said with a snap of his fingers.
“Yes!” Eric said excitedly. “We just take the door off the wheelhouse—“
“No one is taking my boat apart anymore than it already is,” Sam growled.
“One of us could swim for it,” Callen said mildly, stirring the pot in the subtle way he enjoyed so much. 
Eric eyed Sam critically. “How long can you hold your breath?”
“What about Otis?” Deeks asked.
“What about Otis?” Sam was looking beyond irritable at this point.
“Lassie got little Timmy out of the well every week…” Deeks said with raised eyebrows.
“He’s not a trained monkey!” Sam said. “Besides, he doesn’t come this far out.”
There was a moment of stymied silence. “What if we manage to make landfall and spell out SOS in the sand?” Eric asked.
“If we make landfall I want my hut by the good coconut tree,” Callen said.
“First of all we’re anchored, second of all if we did make landfall it would be on an island controlled by the Navy, so we’d already be rescued,” Nell said.
“Smoke signal?” Deeks asked.
“Build a raft out of life vests?” Eric countered.
“Train two dolphins and water ski!”
“Oh my god I can’t live on an island for three years with the two of you!” Kensi said.
“You don’t want to reenact Castaway with me babe?” Deeks asked.
Callen raised his eyebrows. “In that situation, which one of you is Tom Hanks and which one is Wilson?”
“Oh my god, this is starting to feel a lot less like Castaway and a lot more like Lord of the Flies,” Nell huffed.
“I think it’s about to get a lot more Captain Phillips,” Eric said in alarm, pointing toward the water.
Sure enough the boat from before was speeding back toward them. “Everybody arm up!” Sam yelled.
They all ducked below the railing, weapons at the ready. “They’ve got us seriously out gunned,” Callen said as he cocked his rifle. 
“Then we’ve got to make them think we’ve got more firepower than we do,” Sam said.
“Any chance you’ve got a harpoon on this thing Captain Ahab?” Deeks called.
Within minutes gunfire began to pepper the side of the boat again, all of the agents returning fire as best they could with their limited supplies.
“I’m out!” Deeks yelled far too soon.
“Me too!” Callen yelled.
Kensi popped up over the side and spent her last few rounds. “That’s it for me!”
A terrible realization began to settle over the group as their ammo was spent. “Okay,” Callen said, voice slightly thick with emotion. “They’re going to take the boat. Do what they say. And if you can see a way to get out…take it. Don’t worry about the rest of us.”
Kensi and Deeks locked eyes, their hands automatically finding one another. Nell and Eric did the same, both a little pale. Sam looked at Callen. “I’m not holding your hand.”
“Wouldn’t expect it big guy.”
The gunfire intensified, causing all of them to huddle closer to the deck as wood splintered and flew in their faces. 
And then, when all hope seemed lost, a siren shattered through the gunfire and suddenly they weren’t being sprayed with bullets anymore. The team exchanged quizzical looks and then Callen popped his head over the side, ducking back down almost immediately. “Oh thank god.”
“What? What is it?” Kensi asked anxiously.
Callen took a breath and let his head fall back in relief. “It’s the Coast Guard.”
“Seriously?!” Everyone scrambled upward to take a look.
“Oh my god,” Nell said, thumping down onto the deck in relief. “Oh my god.”
“I will never make another negative Coast Guard joke as long as I live,” Deeks said fervently. 
The gunfire finally ceased all together and the Coast Guard ship drew close to them. “This is the US Coast Guard. Prepare to be boarded.”
Weapons were dropped immediately as they all found their badges and ID’s. Within minutes they were being hooked up for a tow as a second Coast Guard vessel appeared to help deal with their drug runner pals. “How on earth did you find us?” Callen asked one of the guardsman.
“Craziest thing I’ve ever seen. This sea lion came up to the boat and wouldn’t leave us alone,” he said. “We ended up following him and he led us right to that drug boat.”
Shock and surprise crossed all their faces. “Somebody owes Otis is a very large mackerel,” Callen said.
By the time they reached the dock everyone was exhausted and more than a little cranky. “Ow!” Deeks said with every move. 
“I told you to put on sunscreen,” Kensi admonished.
“I was a little busy trying not to die,” he shot back.
Nell was still bemoaning her inability to get the radio working. “If we’d just connected the—“
“Let it go,” Eric advised, putting an arm around her shoulders.
“You can’t stay on the boat tonight,” Callen argued with Sam. “It’s full of holes and doesn’t have a working engine.”
“I’ve stayed in worse places,” Sam argued back.
“Sam, why don’t you come to our place,” Kensi offered.
“Yeah at least we have furniture for you to sleep on,” Deeks said, looking pointedly at Callen.
“I have a bed!” Callen protested.
“Yes, one bed. Are you two going to cuddle all night long?” Kensi asked.
“Thanks, but no thanks,” Sam declined. “My boat and I will be just fine.”
As it turned out it was not fine. The dockmaster wouldn’t allow the boat to stay in the condition it was in. “Well then Skipper, looks like you’re coming home with us,” Deeks said.
“You can rub some aloe on Deeks’ back,” Callen said with a smirk.
Sam wrinkled his nose. “Nobody had better be rubbing anything near me.”
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snarkwriteswrasslin · 4 years
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summer sizzle | blackout - trent beretta [m]
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[prompts used]
As suggested by my lovely Lemon.. Lean into the awkwardness. Ahhh.. I fucking hope this is exactly what you pictured bc I legit couldn’t have made this idea FINALLY work without your input.
** the rest of these prompts come from various lists I squirreled away on the internets. One day, I need to sit down and link to every single list I’ve used. Until then, credit to the prompt creators, I own literally nothing but the scenario and the original character **
Don’t look away + catching someone undressing + “I thought you didn’t peek!” “I don’t have to peek to know you’re hot.” ( belongs to Lemon, btw)  + Staring at each other’s lips for a moment before moving closer, as if drawn together by some unseen force. + “You’re so beautiful.” - Trent Beretta | Roommates/mutual pining au
[pairing] 
Trent Beretta x OFC
[warnings]
18+ only. All kids, exit stage left fucking yesterday pls and thanks? uhhh.. this is so fluffy it’ll rot ya teeth. because i didn’t see Trent being any other way. Body fluids. Oral (male giving), masturbation, heaavy sexual tension. OH YEAHH... unprotected sex.
[tag squad]
@kyleoreillysknee​
@rampagewriting​
@writertoo18​
@thatnerdwriter​
@wrestlingismyguiltypleasure​
@chasingeverybreakingwave​
@waywardwrestlewritingwaif​
@sassymox​
@wardl0w​
@missjenniferb​ 
@wrestlingthot​
@unabashedwrestlefics​ 
[ tag list - masterlist - about page ]
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                            TRENT BERETTA in BLACKOUT,
Just as I shut the door to the apartment, the storm raging outside reached a fever pitch, a clap of thunder loudly rattling the window and momentarily sending the lights to flicker. I tugged off my soaked jacket and scarf, letting them settle on the floor next to Trent’s gym bag and I sat my messenger bag and keys down on the table before bending down to pull off the boots I was wearing. My feet were killing me, it’d been a really long day and all I wanted right now was a hot shower.
Literally nothing else mattered but getting out of my wet clothing and getting warm again. 
“Trent! I’m home!” I called out to my roommate. I paused for a minute or two and waited. When he didn’t say anything, I figured that he might be asleep because he’d gotten a late flight in the night before. So I made my way down the hall quietly and stepped into the bathroom, wasting no time in peeling off my clothes. The lights flickered again and then I actually heard the shower running.
I froze in place, biting my lip.
Trent was obviously not asleep like I’d thought upon entering. No, he was showering and for the third time in a week, we’d managed to burst in on each other awkwardly. I was just about to back out of the bathroom and make a hasty retreat to my own room right beside it to wait it out, but then I heard him groaning.
When I heard him groaning my name, though, that’s when my knees turned to jelly. I was about to turn around and reach for the knob but the lights flickered and then went out completely.
“SHIT!” I shrieked before I even realized that I’d been trying to make a quiet exit. To keep things from getting any more awkward between the two of us. The shower cut off and Trent stepped out before my flight mode kicked in and for some stupid reason, rather than take a step back and hurry to leave the bathroom like I’d been intending, I took a step forward instead, slipping on my wet jeans. Trent reached out quickly, catching me just as I fell into him. I took a shaky breath and tried to brace myself to look up at him as my eyes adjusted to the lack of light. If I thought my knees were like jello before, it was so much worse now because the way hard muscles pressed against my softer body was both somehow sheer heaven and complete torture. 
For a few seconds that felt like they dragged on for hours, the two of us stood there staring. I licked my lips and swallowed hard, stepping away reluctantly. Trent bit his lip and I watched helplessly as his throat bobbed when he swallowed hard. 
The lights came on again and Trent realized that I’d come in and stripped down and he turned away quickly, a lingering “Fuck” mumbled under his breath after he called out to me, “I’m not looking!” once he was totally turned away. I grabbed for the nearest thing I could find to slip on and cover myself. Slipping his shirt over my head. Once I’d done it, I tapped Trent’s shoulder so he’d know it was safe to turn around.He turned around a little faster than I was expecting and we found ourselves body to body all over again. One of his hands raised, going to wet hair as he took a deep breath and then proceeded to burst into laughter.
I pouted, but then the humor in the whole thing hit me too and I nearly doubled over myself, a hand lightly resting against his bicep to keep myself upright. “Oh god, this is classic. I even managed to put on the wrong shirt.” I barely managed to get the words out through my laughter and Trent’s body brushed against mine. The laughter died on my lips as I remembered exactly what he’d been doing and whose name he’d moaned a time or two when I’d burst in on him a few minutes before and I could feel my skin heating up all over because naturally, my eyes darted down and I swallowed hard almost the second I realized that he was strained against the towel. I tore my eyes away quickly and walked my fingers up and down his chest, managing a quieter laugh. “I’m sorry, I..”
“It’s fine. I’m honestly not complaining. I had a good view.” Trent’s eyes locked on me and he gave this teasing little smirk as he shrugged. 
It surprised me when he said it and I clenched my thighs tight as my eyes met his and I immediately felt myself getting lost in the depths. He gave me this almost teasing little grin and I took a breath. “I thought you didn’t peek!” I pouted up at him slightly as I tilted my head. My fingers caught in the curly ends of my hair and I twisted a curl around, tapping my foot at him, giving an amused soft giggle when his mouth opened and then closed and then opened again.
“I don’t have to peek to know you’re hot.” he muttered, a husky tone to his voice as he spoke.
My thighs went from slippery to flooded and I blinked as the words sank in. He stepped closer and our bodies rubbing together had a shiver passing through my body as he gazed down at me with a tender look in his eyes and his tongue trailed over the outline of his lips only making me want to raise to tiptoe, pull myself against him and pull his mouth down to cover mine. Just the thought of it had me squirming under his tender gaze.
“Back at you.” the words came tumbling out as I closed the distance between us just a little more. Trent’s arm shot out, wrapping around me to pull me even closer and my breath caught in my throat at the suddenness of it. “Back at me, huh?” he was leaning in a little, his nose bumping against mine. I gave in to the fit of giggles that kept threatening to take over and his fingertips dug into my lower back lightly. It was unintentional, but I rubbed against him and he groaned quietly. “Glad this is amusing to you.” he pretended to pout as he tilted my chin so that I had to look him in the eye instead of just staring at his chest, totally distracted. Turned on. Fully aware of the tension thickening in the air around us and not sure what to do about it.
“It’s not amusing. I mean it was funny, but..” I trailed off, blowing at hair as it flopped right down into my eyes. 
“But?” Trent insisted, reaching out with his free hand to tuck the annoying fallen strand of wet hair behind my ear. The closer his face got to mine, the harder it was for me to think. To form words. If I could even come up with anything to say to begin with. I typically can’t around him, the man is a breathing distraction. Walking temptation.
“But I’m only laughing because it takes my mind off of other stuff.” I admitted it quietly, going awkward and about to look down when he tilted my chin again. I swallowed down the lump in my throat as I saw the way his eyes just kind of fixed on my lips as his tongue trailed slowly across his own. 
“What other stuff?” his voice dropped lower, his mouth almost dangerously close to mine by this point. “Because if it’s anything like what I have in mind…” he trailed off in a groan because his mouth brushed clumsily against the corner of my lips. My fingertips dug into his pecs and I leaned against him just a little because if I didn’t I was almost certain I’d puddle to the floor of our bathroom.
I just thought things were intense between us lately. I honestly didn’t have a clue, come to find out.
“That depends on what you have in mind.” I muttered quietly, making myself lock eyes with him as our bodies rubbed against each other just a little more. Trent took one more step closer and my back met the edge of the counter behind me. The hand on my hip dug in, holding me against him and now he was staring at my lips like he had every intention in the world of kissing me.
And I wanted him to do it so badly that I could taste it. I was a breath away from raising to tiptoe and tangling my fingers in his hair just to pull his mouth against mine.
“What if.” Trent rubbed against me a little as he towered over me, his hands all over me. “Yeah?” my mouth grazed against the corner of his as I said it and he groaned quietly, the rest of his question coming in short and heavy pants, “What if I want to kiss you?”
“What if I want you to do more than that?” it slipped out in the heat of the moment before I could even be bothered to censor myself. I bit my lip and went to raise my hand to cover my mouth because honestly, I was shocked I’d said it out loud. Trent’s hand circled my wrist, lowering my hand from my mouth. He released my wrist and both hands wandered down, gripping my ass as he lifted me up and sat me on the edge of the counter, stepping closer all over again. I wrapped my legs around his waist and scooted myself closer to him, biting my lip as his lips inched closer to mine all over again. Agonizingly slow. 
“What if I want to do more than that?” Trent muttered just as his mouth met mine, his lips latching on to my top lip, tugging at it slightly. I pressed myself against him heavily, my arms wrapping around his neck and my fingers tangling in his hair, giving a gentle tug. My legs squeezed at either side of his hips and it caused me to rub against him even more. His tongue slipped past my lips and my fingertips dug into broad shoulders and tugged at wet dark hair as I rubbed against him with more urgence. My tongue clashed with his and he moaned into my mouth, slipping me off the counter and wrapping me around his body as he carried me out of the bathroom and down the hall, into his bedroom without breaking the kiss. My body hit the mattress softly and Trent followed me down, settled over me, propped up with a forearm beside either side of my head as he deepened the kiss even more.
“Just so we’re clear.. You don’t want me to stop.” his words disappeared in the kiss and I breathed out against his lips raggedly the answer, “No.” as I opened my legs, a leg resting on either side of his body as he settled between them. My arms were back around his neck and my fingers caught in his hair all over again, tangling up in thick strands. His head bent, his lips dancing right over my pulse. My heart fluttered lazily as that ever-present sense of calm I felt whenever he was here with me took over. 
“Trent.” my soft moan was smothered by his mouth as it dove back against mine. “Mhm?” the soft murmur against my lips to linger in the air for a split second before being swallowed up by a deepening of the gentle nipping kiss. My back arched away from his mattress and I rubbed against him, a ragged sigh escaping my throat.The kiss broke again and his forehead rested against mine. My fingers hooked in the chain around his neck, tugging his mouth back down against mine all over again, making him chuckle into the kiss, hands roaming and incapable of being still in one area of my body for too long.
And god did those hands feel like heaven against my skin. Each gentle touch had me squirming, struggling to rub against him just a little more. His hand drifted down, fingers splayed over my thigh as he squeezed and his teeth dug into my lower lip. He rocked himself against me, the two of us laughing quietly when our foreheads bumped together and he nearly fell on top of me completely.
“Trent, it’s okay. I’m not made of glass?” I teased gently, making him laugh as my fingertips trailed down the center of his chest, toying with the towel wrapped around his waist as his hand started to move up the hem of the t-shirt I was wearing to cover myself in. “I know.” he locked eyes with me, biting his bottom lip as he tugged the shirt up, tossing it onto the floor of his bedroom with a quiet groan lingering in the air as his eyes roamed slowly over my body. I pouted, squirming against him in a desperate bid for more friction, the sheer need to feel him pressing me into the mattress, his skin against mine. It was driving me crazy and it felt like the more I tried, the more he resisted, determined to draw it out. 
“Trent.” I whined again, a shiver racing through me when he rocked himself against me all over again and his lips settled against my forehead. “What’s your hurry, doll?” the question was muttered against my skin in the softest teasing tone and all I could do was squeeze his hips with my legs and try to rock myself up and into him, my breath catching in my throat when as soon as I did that, I could really feel him straining harder against the thick towel. 
“ Please?” I questioned, giving my best pleading pout as I gazed up at him. He chuckled, leaning down and into me, nuzzling his nose up against mine, damp hair tickling my forehead. As his body rubbed against me a little harder and his fingertips dug in, I rubbed back against him, my breath catching only to come out shaky. I trailed my fingertips just beneath the plush towel, giving a little tug at it, trying desperately not to seem needy but realizing that there was no way to control it.
With a tug, the towel came unwrapped and Trent tossed it into his bedroom floor, his lips meeting mine in a soft and noisy smack as he drawled lazily against my mouth, “Better, doll?”
“Much.” I gave a soft gasp at the feel of skin on skin. Hard muscles on a soft body. Trent’s mouth broke from mine and started to trail lightly down my throat, his teeth catching here and there, totally at random. “You’re so beautiful.”
“You’re kind of handsome too.” I teased, our lips bumping together clumsily. Trent’s teeth caught on my bottom lip, tugging. The soft wet smacks of our kisses seemed to linger in the air between us. My leg bumped against his side and his hand wandered down, squeezing my thigh, holding it there, staring down into my eyes. “Kind of handsome, huh? I could be hurt by that, doll.” he pretended to pout, giving a  quiet laugh as his eyes roamed over me, lingering long enough to make me squirm and try rubbing against him all over again. He rubbed right back against me, making me moan softly when I felt his cock slip between my folds. 
“Oh come off it, Trenty. You know exactly how sexy you are.” I mumbled as I softly planted my lips against the top of his chest, the feel of a strong and steady heartbeat against my lips comforting. They say that when you really love someone, you feel this sense of calm fill you and I was realizing just how true that was. 
He grinned into the kiss, deepening it, his fingertips digging into my body as he rocked me against him all over again. “To be fair, so do you, you little flirt.” he muttered lazily against my mouth as his hands drifted up, one catching hold of both mine, holding them above my head. I pouted a little because he’d stopped kissing me and he wasn’t rubbing me against him anymore either and that ache that had been building only intensified. I needed him touching me, I needed to feel his body against mine, pressing me down into the mattress. I wanted him buried so deep inside that I couldn’t tell where one of us ended and the other began. The realization prompted me to let my legs circle his waist, trying to pull him flat against me, but he nipped at my throat, shaking his head no at me as he licked his lips. 
“Trent.” another needy whine ripped from my mouth, swallowed up by his own when he worked his way back up my throat and crashed it against mine. His hand gripped my ass, squeezing as he rocked himself into me and muttered quietly, “If you had any clue how long I’ve wanted this…” his voice trailed away as his nose bumped against mine, our soft laughter lingering in the air for a few seconds. He pulled his mouth away from mine, rough lips venturing slowly down the front of my throat all over again. 
A shiver wracked my body when I felt them dance across my collarbone and Trent moved himself lower down my body, positioning himself over me all over again. I reached up, fingers carding through thick wet hair and he gave a low growl before dipping his mouth down, little kitten licks against my breasts as his hands journeyed up my body and squeezed them together. “Trent!” I arched up towards him, his name catching in the air as his teeth scraped against my nipples and tugged. 
His mouth crept even lower and I could feel my body tightening up, my pussy practically dripping and throbbing with need. My toes caught in the plaid comforter on his bed and my fingertips dug into his shoulders lightly and I could feel them moving beneath as a shiver passed through. His eyes met mine again as he sank lower, teeth grazing right against the soft surface of my skin as he gave quiet groans. The hand in his hair gave a light tug and it only seemed to encourage him to keep going… But so much slower.
Each slow roll of his tongue over my skin had me squirming beneath him, whimpering and all but begging for it. He chuckled soft against my tummy, his beard leaving a tickling burn against my skin as his mouth worked lower. When I giggled, he stopped and looked up at me, licking his lips and winking. “Keep forgetting how ticklish you are.”
I rose up slightly, extending a hand and catching hold of his jaw to pull his mouth against mine greedily as I mumbled against his lips, “This has nothing to do with me being ticklish.” a teasing wink as the kiss broke and we pulled away from each other. His mouth dove down to my stomach again, his arms hooking beneath my legs as he spread them wider and settled between them. I clutched at the top of his head as his tongue ghosted my navel, rocking myself against him a little. The more I squirmed and moaned, the slower he moved.
Torturing me. Naturally.
When he pressed a kiss against my pelvic mound I bit my lip, tensing in anticipation. Everything happening right now was literally straight out of one of my more wild dreams about the man and yet.. So much more.
By the time his tongue was circling at my clit, my fingers were digging into his shoulders and his hair and all I could do was whimper and rock my hips upward as that ache built even more, sending a slippery wet rush down my inner thighs. 
A slippery wet rush that Trent stopped to lick clean, teeth scraping at skin just a little. Beard burning up the insides of my thighs as his mouth moved higher and higher and two fingers worked me open carefully, a quiet growl escaping his mouth when he realized just how wet I was. “Fuck.” his breath was warm against sensitive skin and I felt goosebumps all over as his tongue rolled lazily right up my center and back around my clit. When his lips locked on the circular bundle of nerves, I sucked in a sharp breath only to have it catch in my throat as his fingers delved deeper inside, stretching me out a little. The soft wet sounds hung heavily in the air and I tried literally everything I could think of just to keep from actually crying in frustration at how slow and tender and focused Trent was on what he was doing.
My toes curled against the comforter as his tongue joined his fingers, soft wet slurps filling the air and competing with my whimpers and whining in volume. “Trent, ahh.. Oh..” 
When I rocked my hips upward to meet his tongue and fingers, he chuckled quietly against my pussy, muttering a softly spoken “Sweet.” as his fingertips dug into my body just to keep me still. I pouted, propping a little to stare down at him, panting for my next breath and shaking just a little more. 
I felt his tongue form the shape of a T and I moaned, managing to fight the grip of his fingers to rock my hips against his mouth. By the time he got to E, I was squirming even more, begging because my orgasm was so close to shattering through me. I felt him smirk against my cunt and when his teeth grazed against my tender and throbbing clit, I moaned out loud, the sound echoing off the walls of his bedroom. By the time he’d finished spelling his name against my skin, I was begging, breathless and dripping. Trent’s tongue delved back into my pussy, my head fell back against the bed and I rocked my hips against it, my orgasm getting closer and closer.
“Fuck. Doll.” Trent groaned against my cunt as he ground himself against the mattress a little, “You ready for me?”
“Please.” I begged, breathless and gripping at his hair as my other hand raised, resting against my forehead, fingers tangling in my own hair, tugging lightly. “Now, Trent.. Need you now.” 
“Okay, baby. You got me.” Trent answered in a lazy drawl, raising up to his knees, his hand lowering, circling his thick length and dragging it along my folds, making me suck in a sharp breath and shiver just a little. He settled against me, carefully, making me giggle as I pressed a soft kiss against his mouth. His hands settled on my hips and he slowly slipped it in, sending a shiver racing through me as he did. 
I dragged my hand through his hair, pulling his mouth deeper, his tongue parting my lips as my legs wrapped around his waist and he groaned into the kiss, our soft smacks the only sound for a few seconds as he sank his cock even deeper inside, growling and snapping his hips against me slowly as soon as he was buried to the hilt. His hand left my hip, settling on the side of my face, his thumb trailing lazily over my skin as he stared down at me intently, catching his breath before his lips settled deep against mine all over again.
“Trent.” I breathed out, rocking against his slow and steady drives, stretched and filled, the pleasure almost blinding at this point. “C’mon baby. Faster.. Please?” I caught hold of his jaw, making him look at me, my tongue rolling over the outline of his lips. He sped up just a little, muttering in awe against my mouth when he pulled it against his all over again for another deep kiss, “Not gonna be able to stop doing this.” and I answered breathlessly, “I don’t want you to.”
His cock struck against my spot and I whimpered, clinging to him. “Feels so good.” he mumbled quietly against my mouth, conquering it with another deep and slow kiss as he started to fuck into me slower, almost pulling totally out only to drive back into my cunt deep over and over again. “Doll…” he groaned aloud as my nails dug into his shoulders and my legs clenched his waist tighter, my heels digging into his ass in an attempt to drive him even deeper inside. 
His hips pressed down into mine harder, his thrusts nearly driving me into the mattress, the soft smack of our bodies meeting over and over filling the room. “Whoa.” he groaned as his hips stammered against me and he paused, pressing little kisses across the bridge of my nose and my cheeks, chuckling quietly, “Was starting to feel way too good.” he muttered lazily against my mouth when I reached out and pulled it against mine greedily, answering into the soft deep kiss, “I know.. Didn’t want you to stop, honestly.” 
“Oh really now?” he asked, biting his lip as we pulled away from the kiss, staring at one another. He started to fuck into me again, hips flat against mine and pressing me down. I lowered my legs and he took a shaky breath, bottoming out inside of me. “You didn’t want me to stop, hm?”
“No. I didn’t. Ugh, fuck.. Trent. C’mon. Please baby.” I gasped, my nails digging into his shoulder and back all over again as he gripped my hips, holding me still, pumping his cock in and out faster, harder. As deep as he could possibly go until I wanted to see stars and I could feel my body starting to tense and spasm a little with each thrust. “So tight. It’s drivin me crazy.” he growled against my skin as his teeth sank into a patch of skin just above my collarbone, his lips latching on as he continued to fuck into me. 
“Trent, fuck. Oh god I’m-...” I trailed off as my head tilted back and I tried to catch my breath, my orgasm about to take over. I literally couldn’t stop it. Trent muttered against my throat, “C’mon, doll. Let go for me.”
I didn’t need the coaxing he gently gave. My orgasm racked me, leaving me clingy and limp, my hips desperately trying to meet his as I moaned his name over and over and actually nipped at a patch of skin above his collarbone just to keep from screaming bloody murder. It flooded me with such a blinding intensity I almost couldn’t catch my breath, my pussy clinging to his cock, making him slow down a little to let me pull myself together, soft kisses all over my face and neck as he did so. “Doll… that felt..” he started and I breathed out against his mouth, “Amazing, baby.” as he started to pump into me all over again, his fingertips digging lightly into my hips, pumping me up and down on his cock, quiet groans and growls. I could feel him tense and he leaned down and mumbled next to shell of my ear, “Don’t wanna stop, fuck.” as he pulled out, his hand fisting his cock, staring down at me from above, biting his lip as he bucked his hips against his hands and his cock throbbed, erupting, his warm seed splashing against my skin and settling. Just watching him had me squirming and moaning, my hands wandering slowly over my body to give him something to focus on as he came hard.
He leaned down, gripping my chin lightly and pulled my mouth against his as he slid off the bed and pulled me up, letting me wrap around his body. “C’mon. We’re gonna shower together and save water.”
“Mmm. Sounds nice.” I drawled lazily as I rested my face against the space between his neck and shoulders.
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adonis-koo · 4 years
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don’t call me angel
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Note: a parting gift for the new year! I hope you all enjoy because snarky best friends Seokjin/MC is my new favorite trope 🥺
↳ Summary: Life as an assassin was never what it was supposed to be, filled with bloody knuckles and bruised skin, sleepless nights and empty tears spilled. Life was hell, but it looked like just a fracture of heaven when Seokjin was with you. Until he’s become distant, tense when you speak to others, different, but just enough for you to subtly notice.
↳ Genre: Assassin!AU, angst, fluff, smut, fwb(?)
↳ Word Count: 14k
↳ Pairing: Seokjin/Reader, Jimin/Reader
↳ Tags: MC and Seokjin act like an old married couple, so much banter, jealous!Seokjin, dirty talk, begging, MC cries during sex, breathplay, overstimulation, oral (female receiving), tongue fucking, vaginal fingering, sex toys, bondage, possession kink, spanking, did I mention begging? Begging kink? Penetrative sex, MC doesn’t like to sub but Seokjin turns her into a little bitch, angry sex, HEAVY degradation, edging, cumplay
Namjoon | Seokjin | Jungkook
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The seat was cold, the good news was your ass had become numb at least an hour ago, regardless, the metal outdoor chair that had been seated in front of the cafe that was well past closing time was anything but comfortable. Your knuckles were nearly blue and you had kept your teeth from chattering. How the guards didn’t bother to ID check you at this hour was honestly god sent. One lonely girl, three in the morning, a silenced beretta strapped to your stomach that was concealed by the hoodie you wore. 
You thought at least the weeb kitsune masks you had begged Seokjin to buy would’ve raised some suspicious if not their interest in harassing a young girl late at night. But alas, it was early morning, freezing and you could tell even with an AR-15 in hand they all would much rather be in bed asleep. Surely they would’ve seen your lip twitch in a scoff had it not been for the black medical mask: Sloppy.
No wonder this was like stealing candy from a baby when your target hired shitty club level security. Glancing back down at your phone your eyes flickered up once more to the figure across the narrow street, also seated on a bench, Seokjin never did like the cold either.
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You couldn’t even finish typing before fumbling with your phone at the familiar sound of the silenced shot sound, pulling the pistol from its holster you had quickly rolled from your chair to kneel before firing two shots into the men who had hardly any time to witness their coworkers splattered like pancakes on a sunday morning onto the ground. 
“Can you fucking wait five seconds!?” You snapped standing up as you pushed the safety back on your firearm, “You’re lucky we’re as well trained as we are.” 
Seokjin who had been strolling across the road suddenly flung his arms up in the air, his face shielded by the- in his opinion- ridiculous kitsune mask and medical mask both. But you knew his expressions well enough by now to practically see the snarky, raised brow and incredulous look, “You were the one who wanted to take governors avenue! Seokjin it will be faster.”
Your lips curled in anger as you squinted at him from your skewed, darkened vision of your mask, this little shit was mocking you! “It was! Who the hell wants to fucking scale a cliff at three in the morning!? Not me!” You opened your mouth only to scowl as you twisted around to face the direction you had been slowly commuting.
Technically the more discreet route would’ve been cliffside but that was also under heavy regulation and Yoongi didn’t have enough clarence, or strings to pull to get you an entry card. Therefore scaling would’ve been your only option, but jesus fuck! Three in the morning, nearly negative ten degrees. It would the slowest pace, but safest.
But for fucks sake you killed people for a living who wanted to freeze their ass off cliffside when you had a direct path. It was the most risky and crawling with security but goddamn was it less cold between the buildings and a whole lot closer to your destination, so honestly? The choice was obvious to make, Seokjin just wanted to complain and gripe about not getting his way, to which you’d ignore or tell him to suck it up, like now.
“You know what? Whatever, the longer we stay here the more likely trucks will be on rotation, come on put the bodies in that alley way, snow will cover up the rest of the blood.” You were already dragging the meathead of the group into the narrow alley as Seokjin groaned, kicking at the fresh pile of snow before- most likely rolling his eyes and doing as told.
“Wouldn’t have to put a body in an alleyway if you did what we were supposed too.” Seokjin grumbled under his breath as he slumped the last body down next to it’s new grave for the next...hour at most? Your brain was constantly ticking in the future, that would be enough time...If everything went too plan. 
“Oh shut up where’s the fun in that.” You slapped his back earning a grunt from him as you let out a breathy laugh, appearing out of the alley way as you made your way back up the street. 
This villa was technically under curfew yet the guards on rotation really just didn’t seem to give a shit, most likely out of not getting paid enough and less loyalty to their boss then to their wives, it was the cars Yoongi said you’d have to watch out for. They were the higher rank and the ones that could track you down if things went from bad to worse. 
The good news was that was the last hurdle of this night...well on the outside of the mansion, The lights were all on and you could hear the music blaring even from here, they’d surely be up all night in celebration, Wonho and his cronies at least. Everyone else...well they might get the hint the party was over when you took your leave.
Seokjin and you had parted ways as he made his way to the watch tower that overlooked your room, or well the vacant one you’d be scaling too. The mansion was a little more tricky, guards were suspicious at every rattle and noise they heard and the time slot for you to scale up five floors was going to be crunched.
“Any day now.” You sighed, leaning back against the brick wall, branches uncomfortably sticking and poking every end of your body as you did your best to not breath as any time you did the bushes would rattle, a thin layer of snow was nearly coating your whole body and you couldn’t feel your fingers anymore, “Seriously for fucks sake, what are you doing? Taking a piss off the tower? It’s fucking cold and the little paranoid freak won’t stop staring at my bush everytime I try to move.” 
“Staring at your bush?” Seokjin’s voice crackled from your intercom as he tutted, sounding thoroughly unamused and you could almost see his snide lip curl, “You need to go back to languages class.” You only rolled your eyes as he continued, “I just set up camp and got rid of the bodies, you’re underneath your window right?”
You managed to get up against the building and set yourself down but two guards just wouldn’t leave the perimeter despite rotation, glancing up you could see the ledge of your room’s window even from the ground but there was no way you’d make it fifteen feet without a bullet in the ass, or potentially head, “Yeah but those two won’t leave, can you get them out of here?” 
“No there’s two over on the east side that could see from the position they’re in, let me wire Yoongi and see if he can help. Just sit tight for now.” You let out a silent groan as you pressed back against the wall.
You couldn’t say you weren’t getting paid enough for this, because in most casing you definitely were but honestly? No amount of money was worth sitting in ass freezing snow waiting for god only knew how long just to get inside. You closed your eyes trying to imagine the inside of the mansion, Wonho was rich, he’d have heating, it would be warm, maybe you could even get a drink if you’re lucky.
You nearly jumped out of your seat at the sound of the two guards who had been on standby suddenly rushing over to the east as if something urgent had happened. Fuck you could only hope Kim hadn’t blown his cover, he was a careful guy, there was no way it was him. Hopefully, he should be in the building by now.
“Yoongi scrambled their gates lock system, you have five minutes before west guards make their way up.” You didn’t need to be told twice as you stood up, wasting no time to utilize the window seals for your climb. Had you not been awake for over seventeen hours this would’ve felt like a piece of cake.
Your arms were still strained however as you paused, groaning as you muttered, “Namjoon better have unlocked that fucking window.” Kim was supposed to prep your room before making his way down to scope out the main floor, he was never sloppy, but being tired, sleep deprived and the first phase of hunger setting in was really making you question your life choices. Or what little choice you were given at least.
“You know if you keep bitching they’re gonna see you.” Seokjin replied, suddenly snorting as he continued, “Actually, bet they will. I’ll finally be free from your constant whining and stubbornness.”
Clacking your tongue you pushed open the window before climbing through, sighing you collapsed on the ground, temporarily closing your eyes as you replied, “Maybe, but your life would be a hell of a lot less fun without me.”
“Well it will be if you don’t get your ass up, come on Y/n we don’t have all day. Some of us don’t get the luxury of going inside.” Seokjin complained as you rolled your eyes, standing up as you shut the window. Turning around you made your way for the closet, pushing the hood down and peeling off your facial wear.
“Boohoo, suck it up. This shouldn’t take longer than a half hour at most.” Stripping down you let your skin bask in the heated warmth of the indoors. Your blood was pulsing and throbbing at the drastic temperature change as you began to dig through the closet. You could only hope Wonho had already drank enough to not be entirely straight on his feet or else this was going to be a lot longer than you wanted.
This however, was a celebration after all, Wonho just successfully took down one of Rio’s biggest militias and long time overseas rival. Everyone would be drunk tonight, and if not they were well on their way. 
“Wow you couldn’t even dress for the occasion,” Seokjin whistled low while tutting, as if in disappointment as you stood up straight, glaring over your shoulder at the window where he undoubtedly had the scope of his sniper aimed on your ass, only covered in a plain pair of black thermal underwear in hopes of keeping you warm. It did not.
“I’m here to lynch him Jin, not sleep with him.” You rolled your eyes as you pulled the dress from the closet, pulling it over your shoulders before tugging down the tight material that strapped against your body, your cleavage decently on display, hopefully enough to keep Wonho’s interest compared to all the other, more than likely attractive women to keep his attention. Kicking off your boots and peeling off your socks you could hear Seokjin scoff through the static, “Could’ve fooled me.”
You decided to ignore his comment as you slipped on the heels, you were already fairly tall as it was and if he couldn’t see you before he definitely would now given you were at the same height as a fully grown man, “Alright, I'm on my way to location, keep me updated if rotation for guards changes.”
“On it.” 
Shoving your clothes into the bottom of the closet you firmly shut the door before making your way out of the room, the hallway was packed just as you assumed yet no one questioned you stepping out of the room, all to absorbed in their conversations, or the person they were lip locked with. Shuffling through the hallway you made your way to the elevator, the woman inside was almost completely wasted, knocking you to the back where the greasy older gentlemen stood with a slight drunken leer in his eyes while licking his lips at the sight of your breasts.
Grimacing you folded your arms as you ignored the packed, alcohol reeked scene, finally breathing relief at the ding of the door before exiting the elevator. 
The main floor wasn’t much better, it had been completely trashed and bottles had littered the floor. Honestly it rivaled that of a much more expensive, and dangerous version of a frat house. Your eyes however weren’t trained on the floor anymore as you scoped the crowd, your eyes landing on the three piece clad blue suit and slicked, styled hair as you swooped in, strutting towards the figure before standing beside him with a hum, “Fancy seeing you here.” 
“We were briefed on this in the same room Y/n.” Namjoon glanced at you as he rolled his eyes, ever the pragmatic, glancing at your figure before giving a small nod, “Good to see you didn’t bust your ass trying to get in.” 
Your lips twisted into a scowl, you were never known for your scaling skills and maybe that was why you snubbed Seokjin’s idea of using cliffside to get in, regardless, you made it and that was what counted, crossing your arms you said, “And if I had, do you think you could get Wonho to swing the other way?” 
To that he rolled his eyes once more. Namjoon and you...had a long history one that was naturally shared with Seokjin of course. He was the leader of your group...well...as much as he could be. Operations were rarely held as a full team but usually he’d always lead them when they were. You and Seokjin were the first two to be assembled onto the team, or the first to meet Namjoon at least. You had met him before when you were younger though, briefly. 
Not only was Namjoon a good assault expert and spy but he was like the glue that kept everyone from killing each other. He had your respect and that was the highest honor someone could ever receive from you. He was an excellent leader. 
“You are the most stale person I’ve ever met,” You muttered under your breath, his lack of banter however was always something that made you grumble, he was dry, pragmatic and could always be relied on to get the job done. But where was the jazz? Where was the spice? The drama? Talk about boring, “Is the target on sight?” 
“Back corner of the room on the right. We have company.” Namjoon tutted, his tone of voice suddenly on edge making you stand up straighter, glancing around in search for what he meant. What you found however was the familiar sight of burgundy hair and a charismatic smile that could rival the sun. 
Squinting your eyes slightly you felt confusion suddenly cloud your thoughts at the unexpected appearance of your interrogation expert, “What is Hoseok doing here?” You glanced at Namjoon curiously but his expression told you he was just as in the dark, and his brooding eyes let you know he was less than happy about it.
“Who knows,” His eyes flickered to the ground, his icy glare enough to freeze someone had he looked up, “Park loves keeping us in the dark.”
It was the truth, in all fairness. Park almost always used the whole team for an operation yet never told one another, just leaving you all in the dark as the puzzle pieces fell together. You supposed you didn’t have a reason to know why Hoseok was here, but a heads up would’ve been nice had things gone sideways.
This was how Park ran though, it’s what made his business, his elite group from potentially selling him out and turning on him. You can’t leak an operation if you don’t know who else is apart of it. He always had more than one motive for something like this. You knew he did, you just couldn’t figure out what.
You shrugged, glancing at Hoseok’s figure one last time before letting your eyes slowly flicker to Wonho, he was still cramped up in the corner with his friends and right hand man, all laughing and looking about as drunk as you had hoped. Good. 
“Where’s your little protege at?” Your lips curled slightly as you quipped.
Namjoon couldn’t stop the snort from escaping his lips as he curved an eyebrow at you, flecks of amusement in his eyes, “Sitting at home probably beating the shit out of a punching bag. Made him sit this one out, it’s too important and I don’t think he has enough experience for something like infiltration yet.”
Humming you glanced back at your target, “Not a lot of faith there huh. He’s never gonna gain experience if you don’t let him.” It was ironic for you to be the one saying that given he hated your guts for an unbeknownst reason but you did feel for the kid. He had potential, he just needed to hone it, and maybe mature a little.
“Maybe when he doesn’t threaten to choke slam you anytime you’re in the same room.” Namjoon replied as you threw up your hands, you couldn’t help it. Well maybe you could, you were well known for instigating when someone was in a bad mood but still, you had to keep yourself on your toes somehow.
“Alright fair enough,” You surrendered with a sigh, “Let’s just get this over with, stand here any longer and Seokjin is gonna be up my ass about how he’s cold. You should head for rendezvous, I got things from here.” 
Namjoon only nodded as he replied, “Copy. Good luck L/n.” With that Namjoon took a step back before disappearing into the crowd, leaving you alone as you subtly kept your eyes on your target as you began your trek over to his location. Lingering around the bar as you shifted your expression into a far more pleasant one. It took a few more minutes but you had caught Wonho’s eyes just as you had hoped, tossing him a shy smile as you glanced away.
It was almost too easy getting his attention, you had played this little game for only a few more minutes before you watched him abruptly dismiss his friends as he walked your way. You had to drop your gaze back to the floor the glass you held still completely full despite acting as if you were casually drinking.
“I don’t think we’ve ever met, the names Lee Wonho.” Wonho had smoothly introduced himself as he loosened his tie, his eyes not leaving your figure as you bashfully glanced up, resisting the urge to let your lips cave into a full blown smirk.
Rather you kept the seemingly innocent look on your eyes as you smiled sheepishly, “O-oh...I...I didn’t realize you were the owner of the estate, Choi Dahyun, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” 
It was like a fish and reel and Wonho was practically racing towards the dry land as he wolfishly grabbed your hand you had extended, pressing it to his lips as he smirked, “The pleasure is all mine.” You had to resist the urge to cringe as you smiled once more. Easing into conversation with possibly one of the biggest underworld leaders at the moment.
It took months to set this up, to get to this moment in time. Finally, you’d be able to rest once this was over. It was almost amusing to think about, Wonho was a man in his mid forties, a whole empire behind him that had been passed down to him by his grandfather, he dealt in mafia affairs, one of the biggest narcotic dealers on the blackmarket and his stock of stolen military weaponry was uncanny. And yet, he was about to meet his demise by a pretty face and a set of tits. The irony was something you’d revel in for days and something that would look shiny on your resume. 
It was almost too easy getting Wonho up to your room, you had even kept your eyes peeled, feeling as if this was too easy. Did he know? You could feel the small sliver of paranoia in the back of your head. Did Wonho know who you were? Was this apart of his plan? You couldn’t help but wonder. At this point though, did you have a choice? It was now or never. 
You nearly grimaced at the way Wonho’s lips practically sucked against yours, his teeth messily gnashing as you pulled him into the room. The door shutting behind him as he whirled you around pressing you into the wall.
What you didn’t expect as your airflow to suddenly be cut off with a gag, Wonho only pulled away enough to look at you, smug and sneering as he hummed, “Nice try but I know Park’s bitches when I see them.” You gave an ice cold smile as you winced at the squeeze of his hand on your neck, “Why did he send you huh? Were you looking for the storage of narcotics? The data we hacked from Jang? Or did you just wanna get your little panties wet with the best?” 
You let out a squeezed scoff, “You think you’re some hot shit don’t you? Well let me tell you, trying to be mr badass and take me on by yourself was the worst thing your dick driven ego has done yet.” 
“Uh Y/n we have a problem.” You could hear Seokjin on your intercom, “I’m seeing a big head count on the eastern end of the perimeter, I think the bodies from earlier might have been discovered, are you almost done with Wonho?” 
You could hardly focus on his voice though when you were thrown across the room, wheezing as you were knocked against the dress, falling to the floor with a thud as your body ached in pain, “You underestimate me little girl. You think I’m the leader of the most powerful group on the planet? I’ve already crushed Yun’s little militia, next I’ll sweep Jang out from under his feet and when I’m done with him? I’ll fucking string Park on his ass for his little boy to watch. I could be god-” 
You jolted at the bullet pierced through his head, blood splattering the ground and leaking from the now grotesque state of what was once left of the man-god Wonho, or so he proclaimed himself to be. Sitting still for a total of ten seconds before you finally spoke, “Thanks- but I really wanted that on my resume…”
“Can you be grateful for once in your life? Get dressed and fucking light the place up we need to go now. There’s a helio on sight and I think Wonho was storing a good portion of his army in the warehouse.” 
Standing up you made quick work of your dress and heels before opening the closet and dressing in your outfit once more, your lips curled into a smile at the sight of the small bottle of gasoline Namjoon had left as a parting gift. Perfect.  
Pulling the hoodie up you popped the lid off the bottle before splashing gasoline throughout the room, opening up the window you poured the rest down the wall, your nose wrinkling at the pheromone smell before quickly throwing the bottle over your shoulder and scaling the wall. You could hear yelling and gunshots in the distant causing your adrenaline to spike as you swore under your breath.
Pulling the lighter from your pocket you lit up the gasoline, the fiery path licking at its substance as it spread up the wall and into the room. Quickly you glanced each direction before hurrying back to the watch tower. What was the gunfire from? And furthermore you couldn’t hear the helio.
“I’m headed for rendezvous, you good?” You had quickly pushed yourself up against the wall. Holding your breath as the two guards hurried past towards the west side, what happened?
“Already halfway there, you better hurry up before I decide to leave you.” Seokjin tutted as you scoffed, was that a challenge? He knew you could never say no to that.
Getting to the plane was already difficult as it was, the place was crawling with guards and security and by the time your room had exploded the whole place was being evacuated. It was an absolute mess. But the large crowd of panicked civilians gave you a big out to escape through the crowd on the bright side.
You couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief when you saw the plane, Seokjin leaned up against the set of stairs in place scrolling on his phone, “Did you hear about Hyuna trying to get into Jimin’s pants last night?” 
Peeling both masks off as your hoodie knocked down you looked at him incredulously as you both stepped up into the plane, nodding at the guard who shut the door as you huffed, “We literally just finished killing one of Korea’s biggest crime lords and you’re fucking concerned about who Hyuna is sleeping with?”
“It’s a valid concern!” Seokjin replied indignantly, pushing his own hoodie off before throwing his masks onto the other couch, collapsing on the couch you both stood in front of as he groaned, “Should be for you too since Jimin is the one trying to get in your panties.”
You groaned at his words, sluggishly flopping down next to him. Seokjin had been incessant on bringing up the younger college boys crush on you the past three weeks and just as every other time you still didn’t understand what he was getting at. Your body involuntarily curling against his own as Seokjin pulled you close. His chin resting on your head as you dug your nose against his neck, “Shut up.” 
Seokin only snorted, “You know I’m right.” You could only let out a yawn, ignoring his probing. The kind he did when something bugged him but he never wanted to outright say it. It had been like this since you had the unfortunate luck to garnering Jimin’s undying attention. You had never pried though as to why it bugged him. At least not until he got on your nerves.
Regardless, you were glad the day was finished. Wonho had finally been lynched and you would get the well deserved rest you had earned.
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“Shoot her.”
Your heart was racing and it hurt to blink. When did things come to this? No… you always knew this would be the outcome. Everyday of your miserable existence was spent in preparation for this, all the blood that stained your hands, all the screams that would forever haunt your memories, you knew it would come to this. You just didn’t think you’d be on the losing side. If there was one thing you were never prepared for, it was him who’d pull the trigger on you.
“I said: shoot her.” He snarled, the gun aimed at your forehead had been shaking, god you remembered this so many times. 
Glancing up weakly his expression was one you’d never forget, the way Seokjin’s eyes were blown out, his knuckle white from how harshly he gripped the gun, adrenaline in his own veins forcing it’s view into life as it shook. He looked horrified, as if living the horrors he’d dream of every night, “Shoot her Kim and you could go places. You’ve come so far, you’ve already killed so many...What’s one more?”
You swallowed thickly, fear shooting through your veins at the way Seokjin’s expression morphed, his fear suddenly dampening as if curious by his words, his eyes leaving yours as he turned his head ever so slightly, as if listening to his every word, “Seokjin jesus christ don’t listen to him. Please.”
“Do it. Pull the trigger Kim, just another faceless person to add to the body count.”
Fear twisted onto your face at the way he tightened his grip on the gun, slowly his lips curled into a smile, almost sneering down at you. Of course it would end like this. The way it was supposed to end, “Better luck next time L/n.”
The scream in your throat had ripped out as you shot up from the sprawled on position in bed, the wet substance of tears dripping down your cheeks despite the constant tremor in your body, your breath shaky as you ran a frantic hand in your hair. It was just a dream! It was just a dream! Seokjin would never do that to you. He never did.
You jumped at the sound of the door opening, a small whimpered sob escaping your lips at the sight of Seokin’s sleep ridden appearance, having heard the familiar cry through the walls as he sat down on the bed, wordless as you practically flew into his arms, a hiccup escaping your lips as you burrowed into the safety of his neck.
“Shhh, it was just a dream.” Seokjin hummed gently, lips pressing into your hair as you choked out a soft sob, “Was it the same one?” Wordlessly you nodded as you forced the ugly sob down your throat, tears silently treading down your cheeks as Seokjin laid you both down, his arms securely around you as he tucked you away against him. 
Your tears slowly began to cease at the feeling of his hand stroking your back, occasionally tangling and playing with your hair as he continued to pepper your head with soft kisses soothingly, your heart rate had finally begun to slow down as Seokjin murmured, “Do you wanna talk about it?”
“No.” You spat out, your voice raspy, anger twisting in your veins despite your watery eyes, your hands had balled into fists against the white shirt he wore, “I hope he’s rotting in hell.” Seokjin only sighed, pulled away a little as he laid his head on the pillow you both shared. 
His eyes had that soft gleam in them, the kind he’d only reserve for you in moments like this, when it was four in the morning and you’d have to be up soon for debrief, “You know I never intended on shooting you, right?” 
Your eyes dropped to his chest as you felt his long fingers brush your near cold tears from your cheeks, “Yeah, but that doesn’t change the fact that he still tried to convince you too,” You were well aware of the bitter tone your voice held as you bit out, “Wish I could’ve been the one to kill him. I would’ve been a hell of a lot less merciful.” You snarled anger twisting in your eyes at the mental image, “He’d be begging for me to kill him.” 
“Y/n…” Seokjin could feel a piece of his heart chip at the borderline insanity in your voice, the kind he and you both tiptoed on every day, you had been put through such a horrendous childhood, it amazed him Park hadn’t put you both in a mental ward yet, or at least in therapy, ”He’s dead.” Seokjin cupped your cheeks, his gaze penetrating your soul the way it always would in these late, dark hours, “You need to let it go. Holding on to this isn’t going to do anything for you.” 
You felt your lips quiver, a small scoff escaping your mouth at your own patheticness, a new fresh stream of tears trickling down your cheeks as you murmured, “I wish I knew how.” You knew he was right, that you needed to let the resentment that had festered in your mind for your childhood, the horror you went through, you needed to let it all go. But how? Where could you begin? There was just so much. And it wasn’t like you could go to a regular therapist for this.
“Shhh.” Seokjin cooed softly, pulling you close to him as you let out another soft sob, curling against his warm body for safety. 
The only person you would ever trust on this planet, you both had gotten on one another's nerves now more than anything. But Seokjin was all you had left in this world, you’d never let go of him, “Just try to fall back asleep, I’ll be here if you wake up.”
Your eyes were already falling heavy against your cheeks, the smell of strawberry body wash he insisted on using lulling you back to sleep, you’d be okay. You’d be okay as long as Seokjin was with you.
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“So, rough night?” The boldness in your casual words, as if you hadn’t been sniffling and bawling your eyes out last night, was immense, if not annoying to everyone in the room, all dead eyes with a lack of sleep. You raised your brows at the silence you were met with at the oval dining table everyone sat at as you took a sip of the motor oil Yoongi considered coffee.
The only person who had been absent at the table was Taehyung- who had been getting cozy with a governor's wife in Peru, not out of actual interest for her. But for his job at seduction and information retrieval, he could undoubtedly have everyone their knee’s for him in the matter of ten seconds if he wanted. The power of being hot and knowing it.
Namjoon only sighed as he facepalmed, his protege though- the one with the permanent brooding scowl on his face ever since he laid eyes on you let his face screw into an even more sour look, as if that was even possible. 
You couldn’t stop the snort from escaping your lips as your eyes met, “We’re not here for small talk.” Jungkook suddenly snarled at you, as if breathing the same air as you pissed him off. It probably did.
You whistled as you leaned back in your seat, thoroughly amused at the way he gritted his teeth and snarled like a rabid dog, “Aite damn. You don’t have to give me such a constipated look though- I mean seriously, you look like you’re about to bust the fattest shit since birth.” The gurgled choke came from Yoongi- the only person who could appreciate your dry yet somewhat cheeky sense of humor.
Jungkook suddenly stood up from his seat, slamming his hands on the table as he growled, everyone not bothering to intervene, as they all knew this was the only form of entertainment they’d ever get when you were all in the same room, “Is this some fucking game too you? Park has never called for all of us to be in the same fucking room. And all you can do is crack a joke?” 
You clacked your tongue as you leaned back in your seat, such a hot head...Namjoon’s protege was something else. Not that you minded though, at least not completely, it meant you had someone to provoke meanwhile until Park could be benevolent enough and make time for you all, “He’s never called us together since you’ve been here,” Your eyes cut slightly and your words pointed, “This isn’t the first time and it won’t be the last. Now get your panties out of a twist, me and Seokjin just lynched Wonho, whatever this is, can’t be more difficult than that.”
Jungkook was, the newest addition to the team by a little over a year. You didn’t know the details and furthermore you didn’t care. 
As long as Namjoon trusted him you would as well, as you did trust his judgement. He was pragmatic and had a good read on people and if he thought Jungkook was worth taking in, then you’d imagine he had a good reason to believe so.
And the more you worked with Jungkook- against his will, you could understand why. He was a remarkable marksman and a hell of a shot, but he was also ill tempered, foul mouthed and had the maturity of an eleven year old boy, dare you mention it made sense given he was the youngest out of you all at the staggering infant age of 21.
Jungkook would have chipped a tooth at how hard he grinded his teeth together, glaring you down as if you’d explode upon contact, his childishness never ceased to amaze or amuse you, his sour expression almost made you laugh. Fortunately, it was a good thing you still had some self restraint left, being ever the observant and noticing the bulge in his pants you were almost eighty seven percent positive that was not a boner. 
You didn’t think Jungkook would kill you, but you wouldn’t put it past him to take out a kneecap if you pushed enough buttons. 
The doors, thankfully opened to the sight of Park Woojin, CEO and billionaire to one of the world's largest corporations, he was well known for his reserved yet charming nature and was almost always doing good works, funding for charities and such. He also just so happened to be your boss, the one who owned his own elite team of assassins and special unit for his every underworld need at the drop of a hat. He was untouchable. He was the devil in a three piece suit, walking in as if he had owned your lives.
It only served to make you angry that he did. Jungkook was a talented kid, he was smart and a good shot, you could commend him all day long- though never to his face as he didn’t need an ego the size of Park’s- but if there was one thing you couldn’t understand, it was why in gods name did he willingly sign his life away.
On long nights you and Seokjin often mused the question; why would he do something so stupid? It was different with the rest of you, you didn’t get a choice in doing this, being who you were, Park did own you, he owned all of you. And for Jungkook to just...sign the contract. You couldn’t wrap your head around the concept. He didn’t just sell his soul to the devil, he gave it to Park on a silver platter. 
“Good you’re all here.” Park pulled the seat out at the end of the table as he sat down, everyone had quickly straightened in their seats…besides you, too tired and not enough of a will to live anymore as you stayed slumped in your seat with said cup of motor oil in hand, “I have places to be so I’ll make this quick. L/n and Kim have terminated Wonho Thursday early morning. I’ve only found out last night that they were actually in deal with Jang.” 
His dark eyes suddenly pierced on you, “You said Wonho was planning on destroying them correct,” You gave a brief nod, “My thoughts are he was attempting to earn their trust and take them out from the inside. Jang refuses to believe that and is out for redemption at the moment. You’re all to keep a low profile for now. They don’t know I was the one who sent you and right now we’re under suspect. No one is going on any missions or operations until this is resolved, understood?”
Everyone gave a nod yet no one spoke a word making Park stand up as he nodded, “Good. You’re free to stay or go but make sure you’re discreet in public. Especially you Y/n, you were the one inside the mansion last seen with Wonho.”
You only yawned with a nod, not taking his words too serious. This wasn’t the first time this had happened either. And if Jang seriously thought his shotty guys could take you out he was an actual idiot. Or at least that’s what you told yourself because you honestly didn’t have the energy to care anymore. Briefly you noticed Jungkook seemed to tense and Namjoon had shot him a look making you and Seokjin both glance at one another, as if catching the same moment.
At least there would be something to gossip about later. 
Most people assumed by your dry, snarky and cynical personality you were above mundane things such as gossip. They were wrong in every way possible. What could possibly be more fun than to laugh at others misfortune and continue to spread false information, you and Seokjin took delight in hearing about any sort of campus drama, teammate drama, anything you guys could get your filthy hands on for discussion.
Hoseok was the first to jump out of his seat with a groan as soon as Park shut the door to the room, “Could’ve just sent us a text. Thanks for lighting the whole fucking mansion on fire by the way.” He sent you a sharp smile, yet when you looked closely you could see the minor flecks of annoyance that could cloud any sunshine smile he gave.
You clacked your tongue as you shot him finger guns, ignoring his annoyance because in all honesty if he wanted to get pissy with someone then he should’ve mentioned it to Park in the five minutes you briefly saw him, “Not my fault Park didn’t let us know we’d have a little imp crawling up everyone's ass last night. And here I had hoped you got toasted with the rest of that place.” 
Hoseok couldn’t stop the laugh from escaping his lips, though annoyed, he was also one of the few who didn’t mind you. Well, most of the team didn’t mind you honestly. Hoseok in particular enjoyed word spar with you and was possibly the only person who never took it personally, “I’m like a roach babydoll-” 
“Gross and ridden with diseases?” You cringed, initially realizing where he was taking the sentence but unable to resist another potshot.
“Unkillable.” Hoseok sent a wink, he was about as much of a playboy as Taehyung was, in all honesty, but the fact that he had really likened himself to a roach was both, cringeworthy and ballsy at the same time. 
Seokjin lifted his lip slightly in disgust as he scoffed, “Babydoll and roach don’t belong in the same sentence.” He stood up as well, stretching out with a yawn, his hair dusting over his bangs and his eyes just as tired as everyone else's yet you could notice he seemed tensed and a little annoyed for reasons unknown.
Hoseok only let the smile curve on his lips again, pushing his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants as he replied, “And Y/n would still jump in my bed if she went home with me.” You indignantly parted your lips to reply you most certainly would not. But then again...No words came out of your mouth as you considered, honestly, who were you to object to that? 
“I...yeah okay fair enough.” You had come to terms with it, mutually agreeing that you would definitely sleep with him in such a scenario while watching Seokjin grit his teeth, looking at you sharply though you didn’t understand why. 
Hoseok sent you a wink before exiting the room making you snicker, you were a shameless person, you wouldn’t lie and pretend like you were offended by his words when he was right.
Shrugging you stood up to join Seokjin as he rolled his eyes, choosing to say nothing though you could tell something snarky was on the tip of his tongue. You supposed you’d have to confront this new behavioral change eventually, just not right now when everyone was curiously eyeing you both.
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“Y/n! It’s so good to see you!” 
You froze at the angelic, sweet voice. All you wanted was a warm croissant roll and something sweet to drink. Was that too much to ask for anymore? 
Coughing you whirled around to see the beautiful face of Park Jimin, his smile precious and sweet and eyes were practically sparkling at the sight of you. Why, why did he have to like the grungy, dead eyed kid that didn’t even go to college? You only hung around for the overly expensive coffee at this cutesy cafe. 
You see, the problem wasn’t Jimin, well it was, but it really wasn’t because of him. He was the sweetest soul you had ever met and for some reason, had the most heart melting crush on you, except it was one sided. 
Awkwardly, given he was your bosses son. If Park ever caught wind Jimin was associating with you, you were positive not even god could help you in that situation. 
You still couldn’t see it. The fact that they were actually related. Jimin was nothing like his father, he was sweet and gentle, he’d probably cry if he ever had to hurt a fly, let alone a human. 
And that was the saddest part. 
Jimin wasn’t even aware of the empire he would soon inherit. The girl he had a crush on that he’d have to string up like a puppet and use for his benefit. You’d have to watch his father crush every ounce of innocence he had. The idea, actually hurt to think about. 
You couldn’t help but wonder some days, if his smile would be the same after his father told him you were a slave assassin, that you had killed over hundreds of people and tortured plenty of others when Hoseok needed an extra hand, would he still like you when he saw the blood that stained your hands and the wrath in your veins?
Jimin, was the only person on the planet, that could possibly make you feel ashamed for who you were, what you did for a living. Jimin was like the sweet humanity you had been void of your whole life. You liked his presence, you genuinely could see yourself with him. Happy. But that was a reality you’d never indulge in. No this wasn’t a fairytale, and you weren’t going to act like there was a happy ending for you when there wasn’t.
“Don’t you have class?” You didn’t mean to come off as standoffish, but you could never fully get to know Jimin, at least comfortably. Furthermore, as much as you enjoyed his company you couldn’t help but wonder if Park knew about it already. About this, about his son’s interest in you. Was he waiting for the right moment? It was difficult to say but you didn’t want to risk it, you could toe the line with Park all day long but you knew when it was time to straighten up. The sooner you could shoo Jimin out the door the better.
Jimin raised his brows slightly, the soft tufts of honey blonde hair covering his forehead as he tilted his head in confusion,  “It’s winter break Y/n. Are you busy…? I’m sorry if I interrupted something.” 
You could almost feel invisible sweat bead down your neck as you gave a tense smile, “No of course not! I just uh…” You glanced away, unsure of how to tell him the truth, you were avoiding him like the plague in some false hope he’d get the hint and stop coming around, “Sorry, you know I’m not in college. I don’t know off weeks for shit.” You offered a weak, apologetic smile, accepting your fate that you’d just have to entertain him for a few minutes.
At least until Seokjin got tired of waiting for his french hot chocolate you were holding and you knew he got pissy if you took to long at the counter. Jimin only laughed softly, that pretty smile on his plump pink lips and his nose was red from the cold weather outside, “It’s okay, going to college isn’t for everyone. But that’s why I’m here, I…” He trailed off for a second and you could vaguely see the pink dusting his cheeks that couldn’t have been from the cold weather, “I noticed you haven’t been here in awhile. I was almost sad at the idea you were avoiding me…”
“Why would I avoid you?” You gave a strained laugh, forcing your mind to not list every single reason on the long list in your head, “I was just out of town visiting family. But uh- I’m back now. I have some time off from work too so it’s nice.” 
Jimin’s eyes suddenly lit up, the way they always did when you brought up your personal life. It wasn’t a secret he was curious about you more then he should’ve been and you would always shut down questions that borderlined too close to the truth on who you were. 
So to see you volunteering information like your job and family had Jimin obviously excited. You couldn’t help but mentally cringed at your lie. If only he knew you didn’t have a family and your job was far from artsy and cute like his major in photography.
“Oh? I’m glad to hear then! I sometimes get worried I mean...I know you have your roommate but I just can’t help but get worried if you get lonely, you can always call me you know.” Jimin gave a sweet smile causing you to shift in your spot, glancing away as you gave a cough, rubbing the back of your neck as you shrugged.
“I really am fine...think of me like the hermit on the mountaintop- besides me and Seokjin have known each other since we were kids, I’ll be dead before he crawls out of my ass,” You huffed making Jimin laugh once more, his eyes crinkled like little crescent moons and his whole being radiated nothing but warmth and gentleness. 
“Y/n,” You jumped at the sound of the devil, Seokjin held your upperarm like his life depended on it making you wince as you shot him a look, “Hey Jimin!” He gave a tensed smile before leaning a little closer to you, “Y/n we’re supposed to head to the grocery store, do you have our drinks?”
You furrowed your brows in confusion at his tense tone, you never went with him to get groceries either…”Uh...yeah?” In your line of work you never openly questioned him in these moments before shooting Jimin an apologetic smile, “Sorry....See you around though.”
Jimin looked a little disappointed, his face falling slightly making your stomach sucker punch as his eyes flickered to Seokjin’s hand on you, “Oh...of course! I’ll see you later Y/n, take care.” You couldn’t even hear Jimin finish his sentence as Seokjin dragged you out of the cafe, your lips twisting into a snarl at his heavy manhandling.
“What the fuck is your problem?” You dug your feet into the ground as you glared at him, you were waiting for him to interrupt but he didn’t have to drag you out of the building! And what the hell kind of excuse was getting the groceries? You were supposed to stay in the cafe and enjoy your drink instead of staying outside in jack frost’s asshole. 
Seokjin only dragged you along the street, gritting his teeth as his eyes flickered around, his voice low and stern as he snapped lowly, “Guy seven o’clock by the entrance hasn’t took his eyes off you since we entered the building. Call me paranoid but given what just happened I’m not risking it.”
“Oh for christ’s sake.” You dug your heels into the ground as you forced him to stop, groaning as you threw your arms up in the air, “No seriously what the fuck is your problem? I don’t give two shits about the guy who was checking out my ass from where I stood, guys can’t even breath in my direction without you getting all pissy anymore.”
Seokjin suddenly glared down at you his eyes darkening a little as he grabbed your arm, “Stop fucking shouting,” His growled with a low voice, “Let’s just get home you’re being delusional.” 
Your lips parted in offense, brows shooting up as you scoffed. You could endure a lot, you could be called a frigid bitch when you turned down guys, you could be called a whore, a slut and everything else in between. But you would not stand for being called delusional when you knew damn well you were not.
“Delusional!?” You shouted purposely as he dragged you along the sidewalk, “I’m not the one who looks like something crawled up his ass and died just for talking to Jimin. You did the same shit yesterday morning at that meeting too! Just fucking admit you have a problem and tell me what it is!” 
You nearly yelped as you were shoved into a back alley, your drink dropped and your back pressed into the cold brick wall and Seokjin towering over your as he shoved a hand over your mouth, You scowled while looking up at him as he mouthed for you to ‘shut the fuck up’. You could hear muffled talking and the distinct sound of a radio before crunching footsteps walking past, “Fuck I just saw her.” “Shut up and spread out she’s around somewhere.” 
You swallowed keeping your heartbeat steady as Seokjin let go of your mouth, quietly grabbing your hand before you both began to further down the alleyway, “Are you done being a drama queen?” Seokjin grunted quietly, glancing at both ends before dragging you to the right and popping back out onto a main side street, you shouldn’t be too far from your apartment but you’d need to be careful if you didn’t want to be followed.
“This conversation isn’t over.” You snapped back quietly, letting Seokjin lead you to the safety of your shared home. The rest of the trip back was silent and most people glanced at you both like you were two delirious crackheads and to be fair you felt like one too with how much sneaking Seokjin made you both do. 
Sighing you opened the door to the apartment walking inside as you tucked your tongue into your cheek, choosing to stay silent as Seokjin carefully shut the door before locking it, his eyes peeled on the small glass panel that revealed the outside world as you crossed your arms. Sighing he back away from the door as he stretched out, “At least we’re stocked up on food, those guys will probably be around for the next few days, which means no going outside.”
He gave you a pointed look as if having already forgotten what you had said while outside. Seokjin paused after a moment, noticing your lack of banter and complaint before honing in on your rarely serious expression. 
Sure you looked dead most days, and most would assume you were always serious and both glaring at everyone, which was partially true. But most didn’t see your furrowed brows and lips pressed together as if focused on Seokjin’s figure alone, “Oh jesus christ…” Seokjin groaned as he turned around walking towards the kitchen as he ran a hand through his hair, “I don’t care who you choose to sleep with Y/n, it’s not that deep.”
Your lips twisted into a scowl as you followed behind him, glaring holes into those stupid broad shoulders of his. He could act like he didn’t care all he wanted but you knew something was up and obviously it needed to be addressed before it bled over into your work life, which could potentially be fatal for you or him, or possibly both of you, “Don’t feed me that line of bullshit Seokjin! You’ve been broody for the past month, whatever is bothering you just fucking tell me.” 
Whipping around Seokjin’s eyes suddenly squinted into a glare as if warning you to drop the subject, his jaw beginning to clench as he growled lowly, “Who says I’m brooding? That’s you’re trope not mine. Drop it Y/n, when have you ever cared before?” 
You suddenly stepped back at his venom like words, your jaw dropping before you felt anger shooting through your veins that heroin had nothing on as your fists suddenly bawled up. How dare he say that! After everything you both have been through? How dare he fucking act like he had the right to say that! “Where the fuck did you get that idea? Are you dead in the head?” You snarled, stepping closer into his bubble as you shoved at his chest, “We’ve been through over ten years of utter hell and you have the fucking nerve to say I don’t care!? I’ve done nothing but try to talk to you and you won’t stop bitching and acting like you’re fine when you obviously aren’t!” 
“And when I said drop it you won’t fucking listen. You’re so stubborn you know that?” Seokjin snapped, suddenly stepping closer as he backed you against the wall, “You only bothered to ask because it fucking suited you in the moment- don’t you act like some saint- like you actually didn’t notice beforehand. You’re only asking because I took you away from your idiotic dream boat Park-fucking-Jimin.” 
You couldn’t even believe the words you were hearing at the moment. You could admit he was right, you had noticed beforehand but you didn’t assume it was detremential, or that it was something he even wanted to talk about it. And fair enough, you should’ve asked anyways but seriously!? Bringing Jimin into this was such a low blow, “Do you ever hear yourself right now!? What does Jimin even have to do with this!? I’m fucking tired of being dragged away, glared at with snide comments anytime I interact with another male, so I’m sorry it just so happened to be with Jimin, and who the hell gave you the right to dicitate who I like and who I don’t huh?” 
“Oh so you do like him?” Seokjin accused vehemently, anger burning in his eyes as he lunged down, caging you between his arms, his breath hot and nose close to brushing against yours, “Like him, when he doesn’t even know who the fuck you are? What you do for a living? That you’re his dad’s personal assassin at beckon call? I’ve known you my whole life, have had your back for fucking years Y/n, years. I know who you are and I don’t give shit- I never did. So why are you out daydreaming about shit that won’t happen? Can’t happen? I won’t fucking let you run off on some childish notion and get killed because of it okay!? You are all I have in this goddamn world and I’m not about to lose you!” 
Your lips had been sealed shut and your pupils dilated as your head pressed back against the wall as you glanced at him, he...he what? It was quiet for a moment but Seokjin’s intense gaze didn’t falter, as if waiting for you to argue back. As if anticipating your resistment, yet it never came. Instead, you let out a snort, as if realizing what this was about and why your partner had to be a dramatic premadonna, “Are you seriously jealous? For real?” 
You watched him part his lips several times like a fish out of water before snarling, “I’m not jealous! I’m just being your babysitter before you do something dumb.” 
Clacking your lips you sighed exasperatedly, you should’ve known something like this was going to happen eventually, “I never said I liked Jimin, and where the hell did you get the idea I was gonna run off with him? Where? Do you honestly think I’d leave? I mean, seriously.” 
Seokjin’s face was flushed now, looking both embarrassed but too angry to admit it as he clenched his jaw once more, his hands suddenly grabbing at your hips with a possessive squeeze he was well known for when he became insecure. 
“You look at him like some doe eyed damsel in distress,” He growled, stepping closer, his hot breath against your ear stirring your body as you felt his hands slide to your ass, giving it a harsh squeeze.
“And I’m the delusional one,” You rolled your eyes, ignoring the way warmth quickly spread between your legs, “Seokjin, we’re partners. We have and always will be. Maybe the idea is nice but you're right.” You let out a breathy moan at the feeling of his lips suddenly attaching to your neck, giving a nip at your skin in warning as if not evening wanting to hear about you liking the idea of being with Jimin, “You’re the only person I have left too dumbass, the only person I trust, you’re just as stuck with me as I am you.” 
Seokjin immediately hauled you up against the wall, the muscles packed against his arms bulging against his white shirt as he held you up, tongue hot and lathing against your neck before letting his lips drag against the shell of your ear, “Never said I was complaining dipshit. Im gonna fuck you in every single room tonight,” You’re lips quivered with a quiet moan at his hips thrusting into yours, his thick hardened cock restrained in his jeans brushing against your thigh, “Make you forget everything except my name.” 
“God you’re so possessive.” You sighed as he kept hold of you, moving you to the counter to set you down before grabbing at the hem of your shirt, peeling it up as his lips moved down your neck. You could feel a brief smile on Seokjin’s lips, as if knowing you were right, yet not bothering to apologize. It was okay, you didn’t want one anyways. 
When you knew him your whole life, it was easy to say this wasn’t the first time this had happened, whether it was him or you. Sleeping together was both convenient and safe. You trusted one another more than anyone else, it made sense you’d keep one another satisfied sexually. 
Seokjin made quick work of your bra before attaching his plump lips to your right bud making you let out a louder moan, his hips slotting between your thighs as you squirmed beneath him, your cunt already sticky and clinging to your panties, “Mmm fuck, you like it though, I know you do. Always moaning like a little bitch when I say you’re mine.” Seokjin gave a cocky smirk as he squeezed on your left breast before sucking against your right bud again, your breathy laugh mixed with another moan.
He was right, you did think it was hot, there was nothing like angry rough sex at three in the morning, rough whispered words saying who you belonged too while the bed rocked into the wall, “Well if you’d just fucking admit you’re jealous this wouldn’t happen.” You wheezed at the feeling of his hand wrapping around your neck, squeezing just enough to make you gag at the expense of your airflow, “You know choking me is a good way to get a roundhouse kick in the gut. It activates my fight or flight response.” 
Seokjin glanced up at you, his eyes lidded and smug as he dragged his tongue down your stomach, edging against the hem of your pants as he loosened his grip on your neck, “Can you not be sexy for five minutes?” 
“Impossible.” You sighed dramatically as you leaned your head uncomfortably against the cabinet that held all of your mugs, acting as if this was an everyday topic rather than him about to eat the soul from your pussy, “We aren’t newly weds Seokjin, is foreplay really that necessary?” 
Seokjin scoffed between your thighs, popping the button on your pants and unzipping them before curling his hands beneath the material as he peeled them off along with your panties. The cold air of the apartment was enough to make your soaked cunt all the more excited.
It had been too long since Seokjin had properly fucked you and your body was ready to wither beneath him, covered in sweat and cum from round after round of sex, “It isn’t when you’re that easy to make wet, look at that cunt,” He licked his lips, grabbing your thighs as he put them over his shoulders as he leaned down, a small whimper leaving your lips as your pussy lips spread and your wet cunt on display as he licked along your inner thigh, “So fucking wet and we haven’t even gotten started yet.” 
Your lips twitched in annoyance at him as you replied, “Well if someone wasn’t so picky about where we had sex this woul-Oh!” You let out a high pitched moan as Seokjin wrapped those damn plump lips around your sensitive clit, having not been touched in over two weeks making your eyes snap shut at such intense attention, “Oh fuck…” You moaned softly as your hands tangled in his fluffy tufts of black hair. 
“Yeah that’s what I thought,” Seokjin hummed before letting his tongue drag back against your clit once more, your hips eagerly rolling along his tongue as you felt his hand follow up your thigh until his fingers began to tease your entrance, “Mmm fuckin’ mine, bet Jimin wishes he was buried in this little cunt right now.” 
You couldn’t even properly respond as Seokjin pushed a finger inside you, your walls clenching as his tongue lathed against the sweet spot of your swollen clit making you yelp as you kicked against his back, “F-fuck, Jin.”
Pleasure was rapidly spiking through your body and it was nearly pathetic how quick Seokjin could make you cum when he wanted too. Pushing another finger inside you he curled his fingers into that spongy little spot that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head, your back arching in probably an unflattering way as you whined, “Beg for it,” Seokjin lazily demanded, as if he could suck on your pretty clit all day, and if challenged, he probably would, “Fuckin’ beg for it.” 
“You’re such an assh-Oh! Fuck please! Please jesus christ Jin please!” You whined at the way he harshly sucked your clit to get you to shut up, his fingers digging into your g-spot making your walls rapidly clench and convulse around his fingers, your orgasm as close as your hands tugged against his hair, “Mmm! Shit please, let me cum all over your face please.” 
Seokjin let his tongue slip past his lips as he continued lathing against your clit, eyes focused on your fucked out expression as you clenched around him nearly screaming at the way your orgasm hit you all at once, walls squelching around his fingers as they were coated in your cum. Seokjin expertly helped you come down from your hazey high as your thighs began to tremble, pulling his fingers from you as he stood up, licking his lips smug as he demanded, “Suck.” 
With quivering lips you parted them obediently as Seokjin pushed them into your mouth, sucking the salty thick substance from his slim fingers as he gleamed down at you proudly, “Bet he jerks his little dick to the idea of you sucking on his fingers too.”
Popping his fingers from your mouth you huffed, running a hand through your hair before clacking your tongue, “How many times do I have to say I don’t like Jimin.” It seemed that was the wrong wording though as any mention of Jimin’s name from you had Seokjin curving a brow, picking you up by the thighs Seokjin had lead you down the hall as he nipped against your neck, “Stop saying his fucking name.” 
You were dropped at the head of the bed, subjected to watch Seokjin pulled his shirt over his head to reveal the godlike body beneath, there were more than plenty of scars and bruises, a few nicks here and there but his muscles were chiseled and toned from his years spent as an assassin. You’d kiss every scar on his body if he’d let you, “I’m not saying anything, I’m just saying Jimin- oh shit.” 
You swallowed when he opened the nightstand drawer to grab the handcuffs that had been conveniently left there from the last time you both had slept together, his tongue tucked into his cheek as he raised his brows, your cunt dripping in arousal and cum at the way he always looked so hot when he was pissed, “Oh shit is right you little brat.” 
He didn’t hesitate for a second as he straddled your stomach, your first reaction was to fight him but it was little use as he grabbed your arms, shoving them above your head as he wrangled your wrist into one side, “Maybe you shouldn’t be such a fucking smartass and I wouldn’t tie you up.” Seokjin successfully cuffed you to the railing, leaving you at his mercy as he straightened up, looking down at you like you were dirty beneath his feet, “But that little cunt likes it right? My filthy little bitch likes to be tied up and made to take what she’s given, right?”
Your pupils narrowed into a glare, not in any position to be objecting when your pussy was coated in cum and begging to be stuffed full of his cock yet you couldn’t stop the words from leaving your lips in a bratty fit of rage, “More like you can’t keep me in one spot without the help.”
Seokjin’s lips twitched at your defiance, yet on another hand also not surprised by it long too used to your bratty ways as he grabbed slid off you to grab your thighs, pulling them back over his shoulders before you felt a sharp sting on your ass making you yelp, “Should I gag that little bitchy mouth too?” 
You couldn’t even find a haughty reply before suddenly whimpering, the feeling of his wet, warm tongue plunging inside you making your walls clench around him while giving a breathy moan, his fingers teasing their way up your clit before circling your sensitive bud, “Fuck! A-ah! You’re such a dick.”  
His hand immediately left your clit to slam his hand against your ass in warning, the sting traveling to your cunt in excitement as your walls clenched around his tongue once more, a laugh escaping your lips that you disguised as a moan before curling your back at the way his tongue roughly dragged into your g-spot, the skin of your hands digging into the cuffs as you rattled against them.
Your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your hand as Seokjin let his fingers circle over your clit once more, a whine of objection leaving your throat as he pulled his tongue from your, licking his lips as he continued to play with your sensitive bud, “Have you considered shower sex before?” 
No amount of pleasure in the world could keep the glare off your face, watching the way that little shit’s lips were tempted to pull into a smile as you sneered, “You want my pussy at all or should I go ask Jimin for some help?” 
His gaze twisted into a mutual glare, eyes darkening and it was only now you realized you had royally screwed yourself over as he dropped your thighs, almost ignoring your words for the moment as he stood up.
Your eyes however dropped down to his pants as they slid to the floor revealing the thick angry cock bouncing up to his abdominal, it was not only long but it’s girth had your body clenching all over against and his bulbous tip would always be a painful stretch no matter how much prepping, “Oh yeah? Well how about we give him a call then? Let him decide if you’re being taken care of?” Seokjin asked, his voice in a near sneer as he grabbed your legs, pressing them against your chest making you whine, “Let him know this pussy is getting stuffed and cumming all over my dick?” 
You struggled to kick your legs as the feeling of the thick shaft of his cock running against your wet, cum coated cunt, rubbing past your clit as you moaned, too much teasing being done to you as Seokjin growled, “Want my cock you little slut? Then beg, I want to hear how bad you need it.”
Whining your face twisted into a rare pout, you had already begged once today and he was really going to make you throw your dignity out the window? You whimpered with a gag at his hand suddenly grabbing back against your throat again, “Should I get out a vibrator too?” 
Your body was heating up with fresh arousal at the idea but before you could even reply Seokjin squeezed at your throat, “You know what? I will, I wanna see my little bitch in tears tonight, see how bad she needs me.” 
Seokjin leaned over your body before grabbing the wand that was inside the nightstand, your thighs already rubbing together in need of another release. You couldn’t help but swallow at the click of the vibrator, the buzz worst then any gun to your head could imitate, “Spread your cunt, I know you like being a little whore and putting it on display.”
“Maybe I’d like it more for Jimin.” You challenged, eyes squinting as Seokjin gritted his teeth, not hesitating to pry your legs open before roughly pressing the vibrator into your clit, a loud whine echoing off the walls as your hips spasmed and rocked up into the vibrator.
“Jimin this, Jimin that,” Seokjin rolled his eyes, his jaw clenched as he turned it up a setting, moaned whimpers escaping you as you tugged rapidly against the restraints that held you, “Just admit you like being turned into a little bitch, you like when I play with this cunt until it’s dripping wet and soaked in cum,” You cried out at the feeling of two fingers plunging back inside you, the lewd wet squelch of your walls rapidly clenching around him as he clacked his tongue, “Is your little pussy gonna cum again? Do you need cum?” 
“Please.” The cracked whimper wasn’t as enticing as you had hoped but you could hardly process a word anymore, too much stimulation overwhelming you as Seokjin sneered at your pathetic attempt
Seokjin suddenly curled his fingers inside you with a growl as you kicked your legs and your eyes began to burn with tears, “I know you can do better than that. I said: Fucking beg.” His fingers continued rapidly curling into your g-spot, the vibrator in your clit almost too much to handle as he skillfully continued to edge you.
“Mmm! A-ah fuck, please! Please! Shit, wanna cum so bad, please!” What was left of your dignity had completely crumbled as the words flew from your lips, vision blurring with tears as your body burned to intensely only for Seokjin to pull away, “Please! Need it so bad, please.” 
Seokjin let the sadistic smile twist onto his lips, watching the way your body quivered beneath him, the tears trickling down your cheeks and completely submissive beneath him, turning down the vibrator before letting the tip circle around your entrance, enjoying the way your body twitched as he hummed, “Are you gonna be a good girl and apologize? You should be thankful I play with this cunt as much as I do.” 
Dragging the vibrator up your slit before coaxingly rubbing over your clit, a small sob escaped your lips as your hips bucked up into the vibrator, his fingers pushing back inside you before curling once more into your g-spot, “A-ah I’m sorry! Please, please, please I’m sorry!” 
Your cracked, whimpered words like music to Seokjins ears as he felt your walls tighten around him, “And what do you want baby? Use your words.” His mouth near watering at the way your hips rolled against his fingers, your little hole taking his fingers so easily as your face became nearly unrecognizable to anyone else besides himself. “Mmm! Please!” You whined your clit thrumming with vibration as you cried, a new stream of tears dripping down your cheeks at his torture, “Please let me cum, please! Need it so bad, please.”
Seokjin let his tongue graze against his lips, reveling in your pleading as he finally let out a smile, turning the vibrator up once more that gained another sob from you as he coaxed, “There’s my good girl, now cum all over my fingers, be a good girl and cum.” 
Your walls were rapidly clenching around him and your clit was throbbing as the moan caught in your throat, the force of the orgasm enough to rip it out into a scream as a new sob escaped your, your body twisting and snapping in hot searing pleasure. 
“Mmm fuck that’s a good girl.” Seokjin guided you through your orgasm with ease before gently pulling his fingers from you and turning off the vibrator as your thighs trembled. Your mind nearly blank as you continued reeling from pleasure.
You barely even registered when Seokjin had uncuffed you from the bed while whistling, “Jesus, I think this is the most fucked out you’ve ever been, are you gonna be able to take getting stuffed full?” 
Despite his words he and you both were well aware this was far from the first time you had been this fucked out, Seokjin didn’t even looked worried at the way you trembled, having become so well acquainted with your body, “I didn’t just beg like a cheap pornstar to be told I’m not getting dick.” 
That was enough to cause that annoying windshield wiper like laugh to sound as he spread your legs making you jump, mirth in his eyes at your crabbiness, having never been a fan of begging- or subbing before but Seokjin was also aware he was the one exception, “I know you love my dick but calm down it’s not going anywhere.” 
A breathy whine escaped your lips as Seokjin let his thick bulbous tip circling against your entrance before pushing inside you, the stretch burning and pleasure shooting through your sensitive walls as Seokin didn’t bother to wait for you to adjust, his hips immediately slamming into yours as your back arched with a whine, “You know- you never did answer me, should we call him? Let him listen to your little pathetic moans? Let his dick get hard at the idea of fucking my girl.”
Your mind could hardly register his words, too caught up at the feeling of his cock squeezing into your small hole and brushing over your g-spot with each stroke as your hands clawed against his back, “Fuck- are you insane?” You tried to turn it into a snap but all it came out as was a pathetic whine, hips rolling with his as his hand dragged down to rub over your clit again, a moan escaping your lips at the sensitivity as you clenched around his thick shaft, “My phone’s back in the kitchen.”
Seokjin let out a moan before huffing, “I’m trying to be sexy, can you play along for once?” You both couldn’t help but let out a shared strained laugh as his hips continued to roll against your’s, his cock completely coated in both your cum and arousal making a mess against your thighs. Unexpectedly Seokjin pulled out of you making you whine as you popped up indignantly, royally fucked out with dried tears on your cheeks and a hoarse voice, “I am not finished with your dick yet.” 
Sitting up Seokjin pulled you into his lap, the first time you’d gladly be manhandled all day as you quickly grabbed his throbbing dick, pumping his base a few times before properly sinking down on it, a quiet moan escaping you both as he let out a strained chuckle, “You’re such a fucking-” 
You yelped at the loud smack of his hand stinging against your ass, “Cockslut.” Your walls clenched at the degradation, hips suddenly rolling as you bounced against his thick cock, whining as you buried into his neck, “Oh you like that? Being my little cockslut?” You moaned at the feeling of his hand spanking against your ass once more, the sting burning in your skin making your walls clench harder, “Riding my dick because you’re a needy little slut? Does that cunt need my dick?” 
“Mmm please...!”  You whined, having been teased too much to challenge him anymore, skin slapping against skin with every bounce of your hips, you were so fucked out on his cock you could hardly focus on anything but the way it’s thick throbbing shaft split your pussy open and the way it rubbed just the right way into your g-spot, “Yes, my pussy loves riding it.” 
The wet squelch of your body clenching around him forced a moan from Seokjin’s lips, “That’s right, my dirty little bitch.” You whined at the smack of his hand on your ass once more. Seokjin’s hand dived down to your clit once more, rubbing it as you cried out tears immediately stinging your eyes once more at how sensitive it was, hips bucking and bouncing against him as his tongue dragged against your neck, “Gonna cum all over my cock? Make a big mess like the little bitch you are?” 
“Y-yes.” Your voice desperate and cracked as Seokjin rubbed down on just the right spot against your swollen, sore bud causing you to clench once more, Seokjin let out a long deep moan as you felt the warm thick string of his release cream inside of you leaving your pussy a swollen, sticky messy as you slowed your hips down.
 “You know…” You had to pause for a second as you let yourself heave and gulp for air, coming down from your high of sex before continuing, “If you ever feel like you’re being replaced, you should just talk to me about it- seriously.” You leaned a little away from him to look him in the eyes.
While angry sex was a personal favorite between you both, it was by no means an actual remedy to your problems, and Seokjin knew this, his eyes a little bashful as he sighed, arms wrapping loosely around your waist, “No...I...I was just childish...I never liked sharing you when we were younger either, this isn’t any different I just…”
He set his chin down on your shoulder to get away without having to look at you, feelings were always something that felt a little awkward to discuss, but you cared about one another so much you both would always force it out from the other, “You mean so much to me Y/n, I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you, whether it’s from dying, or you just getting tired of me and leaving-I just- I need you. You’re the only reason I have left to keep going.”
“Seokjin…” You sighed, pulling yourself off his now softened cock before properly seating yourself in his lap, your legs loosely wrapped around his waist before wrapping your arms around him in a much accepted hug, “I’m not going anywhere. And if you feel like I’m going too, you need to talk to me about it. I know you’re a total dumbass and it’s difficult to believe but you’re all I have left too. I’m not going anywhere, we’re partners, always have and always will be,” You pulled away from him before giving him a cocky wink, “Til death do us part motherfucker. Now let’s go watch a movie or something, your cum makes me feel like a sperm bank.” 
“What the fuck does that even mean?” Seokjin furrowed his brows as you stood up, hobbling over to his dresser as you grabbed a hoodie.
“The same thing as beatface.” You wiggled the hoodie over your head before rolling your eyes. Your life was anything but easy, and there was still so much to come, but you’d be okay, you and Seokjin would always have one another’s back, and even the sky could fall but you’d be fine. As long as you had him, “You know what? Nevermind, you’re worthless Kim, just pick a fucking movie.” 
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be-dazzled · 4 years
Note
“You’ve done the unthinkable, you know. You’ve made me fall in love.” Gruvia :) (Juvia to Gray)! ❤️
Writer’s Corner: My dude! This has been sitting on my WIP for quite some time. I think you’ve already forgotten. Hehehe. Since you are the Queen of Angst, how about I have a try? Teach me the ways of the angst queen, senpai!
---
High rise building. Nothing but a silent skyscraper. But that structure, ordinary on the outside, held so much secrets… and blood. The center of the world’s best and deadliest contract killers. Where money weighed more than life. The Zenagon.
The higher the floor number, the more dangerous the slayer. On the hundred and first floor, five levels away from the occupants of the highest members of the echelon, there was an echo of fingers tapping on the hard glass atop her office table. The woman had her legs crossed under the table, blue blank eyes stared at the name flashing on her receiver. She wasn’t even supposed to receive it, to get a Kill Order. She has already rose from the ranks. Started as a meager foot soldier, climbed to the top of the food chain. At least, to the 100th floor of the Zenagon, where all the second level handlers held office.
“Cobalt, we need confirmation.” The desk-bound Zenagon intelligence on the other line waited.
“Affirmative.” The woman responded; thankful that she only had to answer through the intercom. Otherwise, her strained expression would have given her away.
“We will send the details through your mobile. Immediately make contact once the kill is secured.” This time, there was no need for a response. The order was carved in stone. And if ‘Cobalt’ failed this mission, she would be marked a traitor of the organization. Her eagle eyes flicked back to the name in the monitor.
SHOOT TO KILL: GRAY FULLBUSTER
Gray Fullbuster was dangerous because if he wasn’t, Zenagon would never send ‘Cobalt’ after him. After all, Gray Fullbuster was the son of the organization’s defected chairman and ‘Cobalt’s’ trainer, Silver Fullbuster. She was ordered to kill the son of the only person who treated her as his own child. But it was also Silver who taught her that in their line of work, there was no room for human connection, no space for feelings. That any human emotion would get her killed in the field. For years she always believed it: that feelings were a privilege not available to people like her. The creed allowed her to survive the harsh reality of her world. But he changed it. Cobalt’s gratitude wasn’t the only thing that started the conflict within her. It was that one thing that she has deprived herself all her life. That one thing that made her question her entire belief system. If money weighed more than life, could it also overcome feelings?
Before she could answer her own question, her cellphone pinged. Cobalt opened the message. Just like how it’s always been, the instruction was short and simple: Rooftop. Hargeon Oceanside Hotel.
She didn’t know how they found him. Nevertheless, Cobalt had to go to him and carry out her mission. The woman hurriedly opened the top left drawer of her desk and pulled out her Beretta M9. Although she hasn’t used it in the field after her promotion, Cobalt weekly tried her service pistol in the organization’s shooting range. That way she was confident the Beretta wouldn’t fail her when the need arises. After checking that all fifteen rounds were loaded, Cobalt tucked the pistol in the holster strapped around her upper leg and left for her kill.
---
The intelligence report was spot-on. Zenagon prided itself with superb intelligence gathering. True to the report, Cobalt found her target at the rooftop of the building. But like her, Gray was also an agent. He was trained to be prepared, day and night.
“I knew they’d send you for me. I just didn’t think they’d find me that fast.”
Cobalt had her prey cornered. With no more roof to run on, Gray finally faced his killer, staring into her menacing blue eyes.
“Give yourself up, Shadow.” She addressed him with his Zenagon alter ego which made the latter snicker, wincing at the meaningless name now that they marked him a traitor.
“I think we’re past that, Juvia.”
Juvia aimed the end of her barrel at Gray’s direction. Her years of training had taught her not to flinch, lift a finger or move a muscle, at anything even if Gray had used her real name, exposing her identity. Something considered a mortal sin in their line of work. Juvia, Zenagon’s Cobalt, kept her ground, ready to pull the trigger if Gray foolishly made a move. Her trained eyes followed his every moment. She could see him consider his options.
Gray looked behind him; the ocean, as angry as the blue pools drilling a hole on him. He wasn’t sure he’d survive the fall but it was the only option left for him if he chose it. Gray gazed back to his assigned killer, searching her eyes to find some salvation. There wasn’t. Gray laughed – a dry, humorless laugh that echoed into the wind. At the callous old men of the Zenagon, at the heartless situation they brought the two of them in. It must have been their punishment.
“Spineless jerks.” He said, “Sending you, of all people, to kill me? That’s just heartless, baby.” Even with his life hanging in the balance, Gray was still that insufferable cocky son of a b*tch.
Juvia agreed with him. She didn’t have to say it. There were hundreds of people they could send to end Gray’s life. They chose her, Gray’s own Zenagon handler, to pull the trigger on him. Either out of spite or to serve as a cautionary tale for everyone who’d fall off the wagon, just like Gray and Juvia did. Maybe both. But either way, it was damn tragic.
Gray made tentative steps towards Juvia, taunting, challenging. His usual smug slowly changing his features. But looking closer, there was no challenge or confidence on his expression. There was only resignation.
“Do you really think I am all those things they accuse me of?”
Juvia knew what he was trying to do, she was the one who trained him. She had enough experience to know not to fall for it.
“Don’t come any closer or I’ll have to–”
“–Then shoot me.”
But Gray was inching towards her. His steps covered the short distance between them until the end of her barrel hit his chest.
“If you really think I am capable of all those things, shoot me. Right in the heart.”
Juvia released the safety pin on her pistol, pressing the barrel against the plane of his chest. All she had to do was pull the trigger and all her problems would go away. Just a light nudge on that cold steel and he’ll be gone… forever.
“It’s either me or you, right? So, go on. Shoot me.”
He didn’t blink. He didn’t falter. Juvia could see that he was serious about it. It should be easy, he has resigned to his fate – Shadow dying in the hands of Cobalt. Juvia could feel a slight crack forming on the walls she built up all those years. She knew he could see it too. Despite her efforts not to let anyone get close – too close, it just happened. He might not have been able to tear down the wall entirely but Gray managed to force a crack on that hard façade. She could feel it growing every passing moment.
“You’ve done the unthinkable, you know.” The tears she never knew she could shed started falling down her cheek. Resolved to be faithful to the only life she knew how to live, Juvia allowed the crack to break open, to be true to herself, just this once. “You’ve made me fall in love.” One last time.
She thought the confession would finally free her. That it would finally give her the courage to pull the trigger. But surrendering to her true feelings, Juvia felt the weight of the gun wearing her down.
“I love you, too.”
Gray shoved her hand holding the gun away, kicking the firearm away from both their reach. He then grabbed her by the waist, crashing her pliant body against his. Gray pressed his lips against Juvia’s, hungrily brushing them as he opened his mouth over hers, deepening the kiss as his hand held Juvia’s head in place. She didn’t fight it, afraid she wouldn’t be able to win. She didn’t want to win. But Gray pulled away before she could even respond to his kiss. He pulled away enough only so he could look her in the eyes as the two of them drew staggered breaths. Her deadly blue eyes softened into his, wet by the tears that she shed for him, for them.
Juvia might have finally opened herself up to him but that didn’t change anything – certainly not the unforgiving circumstance they found themselves tangled in. If anything, Gray’s kiss only made it worse for Juvia. So, he did the only thing he could to save her. Gray plunged a blade into her stomach and pushed her into the ocean with him.
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banditthewriter · 5 years
Text
Best You Ever Had - Billy Russo - 6
Part six! Here’s hoping it keeps you guys on your toes!
WARNING: Mentions of cheating. Feel free to shoot me a message or ask off anon if you have questions or concerns! (But keep in mind guys. Have I ever steered you wrong?)
Tags are at the bottom. Let me know if you would like to be added to one of my tag lists! Enjoy!
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*****
The past few days had been hectic beyond belief. This gave you a good idea of what it would be like to have a bunch of kids. Or a bunch of cats.
Probably closer to kids. Cats seemed a little more refined.
And if another senator smacked you on the ass and asked for a cocktail, you were pretty sure you were going to end up in prison.
Billy had seen that happen. He’d taken a threatening step forward but one look at your face and he had returned back to his place.
Ever since the first night when you’d confronted him about what he’d done, he’d stayed away. To the point where if he needed something from you, he sent one of his guys instead of going to you himself. You appreciated his restraint.
Though that didn’t explain the disappointment you felt as well.
He also made himself scarce whenever Ethan was around. You weren’t sure if it was for your benefit or his own, but you were glad of it.
And if Ethan noticed that you didn’t seem as interested in him or that you looked up every time a man in a suit was nearby, he didn’t say anything.
He continued to make comments about you following him to his room, but you never took him up on it. It was Thursday and you had spent every night in your own room. With the door locked. And with a man named Gil standing just outside your door with a gun and a direct connection to Billy.
He had said that Gil wouldn’t tell him if you left your room. Why had he mentioned that?
He had said it was only professional when he had asked if you’d be staying the night with Ethan. Maybe he had meant it. Maybe he didn’t care anymore.
Had he ever cared?
More importantly, why did you want him to care?
This event was telling you in no uncertain terms that you were not over Billy. No matter how hard you had tried, you hadn’t been able to get over him. And god knows you tried.
Ethan was once again trying to get you to come upstairs with him. You’d consider him persistent and usually found that endearing, but you were starting to get a little tired of it.
His hand moved to rest on your hip and you tried not to flinch from the touch. He was smiling as he talked, words painting a pretty picture of the two of you in his suite watching a movie. He was basically inviting you to Netflix and chill which was almost funny.
Almost.
Your eyes moved around the room and you tensed when your gaze met Billy’s. When had he come into the room? Had he noticed how you felt almost desperate to get away from Ethan?
His eyes moved to the hand on your hip and you watched his hand clench. Then he turned around to say something to one of his guys before he headed back out of the lounge.
You closed your eyes. This was for the best. It wasn’t like you felt like you should hide yourself in your own hotel. What did it matter if you had moved on? It’d been a year.
You looked over at Ethan who was still talking about his suite.
Okay, so you weren’t moving on with this guy, but one day you might.
He moved on while you two were still together; you could move on a year later, right?
------
The clock on your wall was driving you crazy. The constant ticking made you feel like you were going to jump out of your skin.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
You sat up and looked over at the door. You knew you shouldn’t do it. This wasn't a good idea at all. You should just crawl back under your blankets and go to sleep.
After you took the batteries out of the clock at least.
Instead you pulled on a sweatshirt over your tanktop and shorts and slipped on some flipflops before you grabbed your room key and your phone. You opened your door and stepped into the hallway.
Gil stood nearby. He looked you over and cleared his throat.
“Ma’am,” he said with a quick nod, his eyes darting away from your very bare legs.
“I’m just going for a quick walk,” you lied as you turned and started down the hallway.
He didn’t follow you but you cast a quick look to see that his hand had twitched towards his ear. Was he relaying that you were leaving your room or was he listening to something?
Did it matter?
The benefit of picking the rooms was that you knew exactly where you were headed. You took the stairs down one flight and darted across the hallway before anyone saw you. And then it was just one corner and you were faced with a door.
You approached it slowly. This was a bad idea. You should turn around right now and head back to your own room. You should take the batteries out of the clock and put them somewhere else, somewhere they could do some good.
Instead you raised your hand to knock. This was a bad idea but you were seeing it through.
Right before you could knock, you heard his voice laughing. Then you heard a woman’s breathy laugh.
Surely not. Surely this wasn’t happening.
The sounds of kissing, moans already starting, had you turning around on your heel.
This was a bad idea. For so many reasons.
Quickly you went to the nearest stairs and went back to your floor. This had been doomed from the start and you never should have even entertained the idea. You’d known it was going to blow up in your face.
You should go back to your room. You could order some ice cream and tell yourself that it didn’t matter; that you didn’t care.
Instead of going onto your hall, you looked down the opposite direction. There was one room on this hall that you could visit.
You shouldn’t. It was somehow a worse idea than your first one. This was the exact opposite of what you wanted.
Except you weren’t so sure.
You didn’t want to second guess yourself. You turned down the hall and moved to the door. This time you only heard silence.
You shouldn’t knock. You should turn around and leave. This was a mistake of the highest order. This was going to be the thing that was going to ruin you.
If anyone found out…
Before you could talk yourself into leaving or knocking on the door, you were startled when it came open. He looked shocked as he looked you over, his eyes moving over your night clothes in a rush.
“Y/N?”
You shook your head for a moment and stepped in, gripping the collar of his shirt in one fist as you used your body to push him into his room.
“Shut up Billy,” you breathed as you used your grip on his collar to tug him into a deep kiss.
And with a kick of your foot, you shut the door behind you.
X
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majingojira · 4 years
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Halloween Versus Battle
For a while now, I’ve sort of wanted Death Battle to include Buffy Summers as a contestant so I could see their numbers, but most opponents for her are either too weak (Grimm) or too powerful (Hellboy, Hellsing) by large margins.   But I think I found one for a good fight:  Selene from the Underworld movies. 
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So, how would they fare in a Death Battle?!
Let’s go over the three major categories: Offense, Defense, Skills.  
Offense:  Selene has been shown to be able to snap necks, break bones, shatter stone, and performed a classic Mortal Kombat spine-ripper fatality in her most powerful form.   Her biggest move is flipping a fan by ramming it with her shoulder. She was running at top speed at the time building momentum, so there is an asterisk to it. After that, she once kicked Marius, a very large werewolf, about 30ft into a glacier which he was shoved into.  A very strong showing.  Buffy, by contrast, has more lifting feats to her name. Generally, her blows don’t just knock people over, they send them flying.  20 to 30ft in one poor schmuck’s case.  And that’s while holding back. She’s lifted reinforced concrete blocks larger than herself, metal portcullises, steel girders (easily), decapitated a foe with a cymbal, sliced off a woman’s arm with a shard of glass, bent and broke steel prison bars, kicking vamps through brick walls, causing a metal loading garage gate to literally explode into pieces with one hit, shoved her foot through a large demon’s skull, among others.  
Buffy’s physical strength has been compared to Spider-Man, and while not that intense, she is no slouch in the strength department at all. 
I don’t have the math skills to compare that all, but my guess, Buffy has a slight advantage, but not enough to confer an overall advantage.  Next up on offense is weaponry.   Selene has a lot to pull from.  Two Berattea handguns, Walther P99s - both pistols using 9x19mm Parabellum or .40 S&W rounds.  Basically between 9 and 10mm bullets.  Buffy was one felled with a heart shot by a Beretta 92FS and though the bullet didn’t fully penetrate the heart, it got close enough and did enough damage to put her down.  Selene also carries throwing stars (some of which carry explosives), grenades, and knives.   However, every single weapon Selene has is hampered by one thing: most of it is either silver, silver-nitrate based, or silver plated.  Even the grenades are more about getting Silver Nitrate spread around than sheer explosive force.  Silver is a much softer metal compared to lead and other bullet-forming materials.  Meaning they have less penetration and losing the blade’s edge faster. These are great against vampires and werewolves, and some can still kill humans, but ... they are weaker.    Worse, she packs Silver Nitrate bullets, which are basically high-speed paintballs. Lower penetration, and designed to poison the target.  Buffy has a plethora of weaponry at her disposal, depending on what she wants to take with her that day.  I’ll limit the list to the most common things she uses:  Wooden Stakes and Knives; Swords and Axes (mid, large, and throwing); Crossbows;  A Rocket Launcher (M136 AT4) (she’s used it TWICE so I’m counting it); The Scythe ...   The Scythe is OP.  With that thing, she’s deflected bullets, lasers (!), and spells.  She’s cut through superhumanly tough targets as well as slicing through the side of a futuristic armored car.  In one instance, a vampire with Slayer memories used it to cut off the head of Mayor Richard Wilkin’s demon form, killing him instantly. In Buffy’s hands, it’s harmed Maloker, the Old One that created vampires.   The wooden stake can punch in and out of concrete without losing its edge.  And her last weapon is ... the environment.  She will use whatever is around her to enact any advantage she can get.  This includes, but is not limited to, kicking a vampire into the broken branch of a tree to stake it.  
Buffy wins weaponry hands down.  She has a shorter range, but the raw power output overwhelms what Selene is capable of. Or, to put it another way, Selene’s most damaging weapons are her knives and shuriken.  Buffy’s are the Scythe and a Rocket Launcher.  Between Offense and Defense, we have Speed, which aids both.  Now, with Selene’s fully upgraded speed being shown as ‘blur movement’, it might seem she has this in the bag, but Buffy is no slouch either.    Aside from blocking a laser blast while midair from less than 20ft away, she’s dodged lightning at a similar range, deflected pistol shots within 5ft of her being fired, dodged automatic fire, caught crossbow shots from the same range, and set off a bear trap and escaped it by sheer reaction speed.   She’s run roughly/around 60mph in a straight run, which is a lot faster than many people give credit for.   And, really, a lot of her epic speed is over short distances under that blur cloak.  The actual distance over time speed value is remarkably slower.  Still, Selene has the speed advantage, but not the reaction speed.   Because Buffy has a Spider-Sense. In addition to being able to detect vampires (something she’s not very good at initially and has to focus to use) she can use her senses to alert her to danger well before it strikes.  Be it incoming attacks, invisible attackers, or fighting while blinded.  Early on this required a bit of concentration, and to this day, she still needs some focus to attain it (if she’s off her game it doesn’t work so well), but it happens on the turn of a dime rather than needing a few breathes to focus.  So, Between that and the laser deflection/lightning dodging, I’d say they’re equal.   Now we come to durability. There are two categories: Recovery and Armor.  Buffy wins Armor, Selene wins Recovery.  Buffy has had buildings fall on her, taken blows from building wrecking foes (literal gods), and fallen from heights similar to what Selene has done and walked away with no effect.  She was also once in the blast radius of a house-leveling explosion and was just blown away by it (She is tiny after all).  She was once thrown into a stone coffin, shattering it and while it hurt like hell, she wasn’t killed by it.  Nor did being stabbed through the kidney from the back and out the front do more than get an “SSSSS--Aaaah” reaction from her for a minute or so and she was up and fighting again.   She also once blocked a vampire’s cleaver attack with her own arm, and it just cut her. No loss of her hand, just a cut It was a relatively fresh vamp, but still a vamp.   Her recovery rate is very slow but constant.  Aside from the stabbed and got up thing (which she has multiple instances of), she has the endurance to fight for days and can recover from deeper stab wounds (like to the gut) within a day.  Slow, but steady.  To add to this, she’s never bled out from these wounds she’s taken. Including several full impalements.  Selene, being a vampire, has a weakness to silver and decapitation/extreme damage. So she can shrug off most blows that don’t damage her in that way, but they do wear her down.  Instead of outright resisting the blows, she regenerates from them.  This can, when she’s recently fed, force bullets out of her body.   But this recovery is based on how much she’s fed and on what she’s fed on lately.  So, it’s a lot faster than Buffy’s healing factor, but it is not unlimited like Buffy’s, who continues to heal until you put her down.   So they both have their ups and downs here.   Skills are where it gets tricky.   Selene is the best of her elite fighting unite or ‘Death Dealers’ and can think tactically when needing to.  However, her tactics are geared towards her primary foes: Lycans, and later, humans and vampires.  She’s 700 years old and training that time.  She’s trained in Hand to Hand combat (styles unknown, primarily Aikido, Jet Kune Do, and Filipino Kali) as well as with her weaponry.  Acrobatics training is also on the table, along with squad tactics.  Buffy ... Buffy cheats.  Seel all slayers are connected, mentally on a subconscious level.  In the novel “Slayer” by Kiersten White, which is canon with the primary Buffy lore, it’s revealed that all slayers share a dream space.  From this, they get prophetic warnings, as well as share the subconscious memories of past slayers.  This means that (once trained and honed) they aren’t so much learning new fighting moves but remembering them. Given what little we can determine from the first Slayer and the Shadowmen, they likely date back to the earliest parts of human civilization.  I’m going to go with Göbekli Tepe as a starting ballpark estimate.  Which means we’re talking about 12 THOUSAND years. Almost 20 times the experience of Selene.  That’s the upper limit of what this could be.  The lower limit would be pre-Babylonian, some 5 thousand years ago. More than 7 times Selene’s experience.  And it’s shown too, as Buffy has defeated vampires nearly as old (Dracula, 600) or far older (The Master -- well over 1000 years at least) than Selene.  So, Buffy has a wider variety of skills (and weapons she is good with) to call upon.   Her actual fighting style is ... improvisational.  That’s the thing with Buffy. Her fighting repertoire is so broad it’s hard to know what she may throw at an opponent, and it keeps them on their toes.  That includes her habit of treating the locations she fights in like she were Jackie Chan.  Only Aikido and Jiujitsu are mentioned as fighting styles she knows, but she also has a habit of critiquing fight choreography in movies (shown on an old Kung Fu flick).  In Season 5 it is mentioned that she and Giles are working on a hybrid fighting style of their own devising.   And even if you argue that Selene is stronger, and faster than Buffy herself, that’s not much of a perk as she has defeated many foes of greater power than her own.  This includes The Master (a Vampire older than Selene),  Slayer Vampires (Slayers turned into Vampires), Demons far larger than herself,  The Hellgod Glory (With some prep work).   She has also done battle directly with Old Ones/True Demons.  Primarily Maloker, the progenitor of Vampires, and Olvikan, the thing the Mayor became in season 3.  And in Season 11 and 12, I mean that directly.  As in “Ride and slice” attack and harm them. Monsters 20 to 50ft tall or more at the very least. Maloker at full size would be a worthy foe of Godzilla. She fought it, survived, and even managed to hurt it.   Selene ... doesn’t have anything like that.  When she faces a foe stronger than her, she doesn’t outsmart, outmaneuver and somehow survive or win. She gets her ass kicked until she gets a power-up and then outpowers her foe. For all her tactical thinking, it assumed inferiority or at least equal of her foes.  Things of greater power are insurmountable.   Not a good comparison for Selene, and there’s something else that puts Buffy over the top. There’s also something about Buffy that Selene just doesn’t really have a counter for. Buffy’s Mouth.  Buffy has a sharp tongue and keeps her foes off-balanced as best she can with a barrage of quick-witted comments. And for all Selene’s tactical intelligence, her major arcs come from her being manipulated and fooled for over 700 years.  Selene is stoic, driven, and ... a ripe target for Buffy’s style of quipping and sardonic comments.   She’d have a field day with her outfit alone.   This would easily put Selene off her game, in a field where she’s already lagging behind.   Buffy also demonstrates some mental toughness.  Though she has been affected by the hypnotic powers of some vampires, it’s really only because she has a reason to give in to the influence (like any real-world hypnosis).   Finally, it should be mentioned that Vampires in Underworld are ... different from most.  They are shown to die from severe physical trauma -- so decapitation and shoving any weapon through the heart would kill Selene regardless of its make.  She also almost bled out once from massive internal injuries.  Selene’s upgrades have removed the weaknesses to Sunlight and Wolfsbane, but this fact remains:  Selene is easier to kill than the vampires Buffy normally fights in a physical sense.  And the difference in weaknesses is not something that would throw Buffy off her game at all.  She’s dealt with three different varieties of vampires: the standard Vampire, “New Rules” Vampires (which are stronger than classic ones as well as having the ability to shapeshift into certain animals and mist), and Turok’Han “Neanderthal Vampires” who have reinforced chests to make them resistant to staking and they largely ignore holy objects.    So having a “New” Variety of vamp to deal with is no big deal for her.  Buffy herself is still human, so wounds that would kill a human quickly would kill her.  She is denser than a normal human, so doing that is not so easy.   Buffy Summers has clear advantages in weaponry, reaction speed, durability, skill, and mental fortitude.  It seems to me that Buffy can easily send Selene to the Underworld. 
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viridian-angel · 5 years
Text
Storm Chaser [Chapter 1]
Series: Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: Shonen/Shoujo
Characters: Original [Rights reserved]
Wordcount: 3,067
[ Prologue ]
What makes a storm scary?
Sara felt sick– like they were rocks in her stomach, as her father’s boat rocked shakily back and forth on the raging sea. Both she and her father knew better to go out on business on a night like this, but their clients had offered them more money than they’d know what to do with just to go out in it.
Why…?‌ Well, they were told not to ask. It was more convenient not to ask. They just wanted to out into the middle of the ocean for an hour or two.
Just an hour, or two, they said.
But when the sirens and lights approached in the distance, they wanted to go out further. For just a little longer, for more money. Even more money. Sara protested, but the family business was sinking and she had no real right to complain the more the digits of what was being offered went up.
She had been offered one wish by some mythical looking pest before– she could’ve simply gotten the money that way, but it seemed like a greedy waste of a wish to ask for money in exchange for… whatever it was they wanted in return.
Now, here, she wished she had taken that offer.
“Dad, I‌ really think we should find somewhere to dock. The thunder is following the lightning too close at this point, the storm’s only going to get worse fr–”
“Shut up, you bitch!”‌ one of the “clients” barked, abruptly cutting her off. “You’re already this far deep, just chill out another fucking hour!”‌
Sara’s father glared at him, earning an apologetic look from the second client sitting beside him. The man cleared his throat, speaking far more politely than the one next to him. “He’s very worked up, and rude, but I have to politely second my friend’s statement. Just another hour, and we’ll be out of your hands, and you’ll be much, much richer.”
Sara looked from them to her father, shaking her head. “We don’t have another hour in this weather. This isn’t some huge ship, it’s just a little boat meant for fishing. I don’t know exactly what you’re up to, and I don’t want to know at this point, but you’re taking a bigger risk being out here than simply letting us dock somewhere discreet.”
“JUST‌ SHUT–”‌ the ruder one started, but immediately cut off and startled by a lightning strike a bit too close for comfort out in the ocean.
The silver-haired girl blinked a few times and pointed outwards toward the strikes and flashes, emphasizing her point. “This is exactly what I’m talking about!‌ We’re in a little boat, with metal sticking out of it, in the middle of nowhere– the sea’s getting choppier and choppier, and pretty soon, we’re going to capsize. This as much your safety as it is ours, and you need to recognize this!”
She turned to her father, staring at him pleadingly. “Come on, this isn’t worth it. Dad, let’s go home. Please.”‌
He nodded, giving her a sympathetic look back. “Yeah, you’re right, Sara… sorry guys, we’re going to have to turn back. I‌ can’t risk going out further in this thing anyway, it isn’t meant for super deep ocean water in the first place. I’ll drop you off against the closest coastline, how about–”
He was interrupted by the sound of a gun being cocked while he turned towards the wheel, freezing in place.
The “polite” one calmly held a beretta pointed in his direction, shaking his head. “I‌ hate to do this, but you’re hardly leaving us a choice in this matter. Take the boat out farther, Mr. Reighs.”
“You aren’t listening to either of us. This boat doesn’t stand any chance i–”
A shot fired off into the air as the man instead pointed the gun at Sara. “We heard both of you. I’m telling you that you’re going to take us out further, or we’ll dump the two of you out and take ourselves further.”
Both Sara and her father stared at them in shock, then at each other.
He gave her a forlorn look, then turned back around to start taking the boat out further.
                                                        ---------
Is it the flooding rains?‌ The destructive lightning?‌ Or the cacophony that follows them both, pounding so hard you can’t feel your heart-beat?
Sara screamed as the boat rocked violently back and forth, not even her years of being on the boat steeling her for this. It flung her against one of the steel rails, hitting her in the stomach and ejecting the air from her lungs. She sputtered and wheezed, bracing herself against it as tightly as she could just to prevent herself from toppling over. The overwhelming smell of the salty sea filled her nostrils as she inhaled to get her breath back, turning herself around just enough to watch the rest of the boat.
The two that had gotten them into this mess in the first place tumbled around helplessly, each effort to get up foiled by slipping on the seawater coating the ship. The beretta slipped out of the calm one’s grip, bouncing around the deck uselessly. Sara dropped to the ground and grabbed for it, only to be met by the thuggish client kicking at her hand as hard as he could manage from his prone position. She let out a cry of pain, her hand reeling back from the blow; the ship tilted harshly to the left again, causing her to slide up against the railing while laying down, earning another crushing blow– to her ribs this time. Sara wheezed, realizing that something had just broken inside of her.
Nonetheless, she struggled to her feet, knees wobbling from the effort, and clutching her chest. The thuggish one managed to finally right himself using the railing, glaring at her as the beretta uselessly tumbled into the ocean.
“You should’ve just fucking listened!”‌ she screamed over the howling wind. “If anyone of us dies, it’s on you!”
“Oh, can it, bitch, you could’ve just said no and walked away from the money!”‌ he shouted back.
“The deal way a mile or two, not driving straight out into the goddamned ocean you idiot!‌”
Her father looked back, desperately wanting to come out to help her, but knowing that the second he stopped fighting the waves with his steering the whole thing would capsize. He was relegated to steering the best he could, desperately trying to turn to escape the storm.
“Shut up, just fucking shut up!”‌ the thug screamed, rushing at her the second the boat stilled, striking her across the face with his fist. She winced and tilted her head to accommodate the blow, dangerously leaning back against the railing to give herself enough room to throw a heavy upwards swing back at him from her position. It collided with his chin, knocking him a solid foot back from his body automatically recoiling from the blow.
“I’m on this boat for a reason, you son of a bitch…” she murmured, wiping the blood leaking from the corner of her lip with the back of her hand. Sara tore off the outer jacket that was just soggy and weighing her down at this point, exposing her muscular build and thick arms in the thin tank-top she was wearing underneath. “Don’t think you can’t get away with this shit just because I’m a girl.”
He laughed mockingly at her, spitting out blood as he righted himself with the railing opposite her. “Yeah, you’re some girl. More man than a girl, though!”
“Certainly more man than you,”‌ she growled, adopting a boxing stance as he lunged at her again. This time she weaved to the side, letting the punch uselessly whiff past her shoulder– and using the momentum from her own body’s motion to rotate her torso up, carrying her fist along with it– directly into this abdomen with a crushing amount of force. He wheezed outward, the breath catching in his throat. She didn’t waste a moment to toy with him, letting out an intimidating howl, shoving him back with her arm just enough to allow the full weight of her arms to crash into the sides of his face as she unleashed hook after hook into the sides of his face, letting the momentum of each one carry her into the next.
Her blows only stopped when she felt his accomplice reach for her leg, pushing the thuggish one down now that he was barely conscious, and stomping at the hand reaching for her.
He yanked his hand back quickly, retreating on his hands and knees to the cabin with her father. He lept up to his feet in the safe confines of the mostly dry room, pulling out a second, smaller gun from his boot and pointing it at Sara’s father.
“Okay, okay, now let’s just all be calm and civil,”‌ he said, a smug grin creeping onto his face. “No need to escalate this any more than it has–”
Abruptly, lightning struck right next to the boat. Shaking everything around them, and absolutely deafening.
Just as abrupt and deafening as the gunshot fired off directly through her father’s heart.
She stood in shock as he collapsed, lifeless before he even touched the ground.
The man who shot him looked panicked as if he didn’t mean to– whether he did or not, at this point, was entirely irrelevant.
Sara let out a piercing scream, her vision turning completely red with rage. She ran towards the cabin, earning a gunshot through the shoulder as she tried to make her way in there. As if she were possessed, she continued forward, use of one of her arms be damned. The second shot he fired missed, the third hitting her in the thigh far too late. Sara had already rushed into him, her usable arm swinging at him wildly. Her fist rapidly jabbed into his face, the repeated, bloodthirsty blows dispatching him quickly as the gun fell from his hands.
Out of the picture for now.
She looked to her father’s body, dropping to her knees as the pain caught up to her brain. She winced and sobbed, the sound of the rain completely drowning her out. Without anyone steering the boat, however, it started to tilt and shake far more violently.
A voice in the back of her head screamed for her to get up. She knew she had to because if she didn’t now, there was no way she was going to make it out of this alive. She knew this, even if it meant pulling herself away from her father’s body with barely even a second to grieve.
Sara tried to stand, but the wound in her thigh was far too painful. The best she could do was lift herself enough on one leg to reach the wheel, and use her only functional arm to try to work against the storm.
Even with all the strength, she had left, every ounce of power she tried to work through her body, it still wasn’t enough.
Then, Kyubey appeared in front of the wheel, having picked the most opportune moment. “Hello, Sara. Seems you’re in trouble.”
“Now’s not the time, you rat!” she shouted, straining to hold on to the wheel as the boat continued to violently rock to and fro against the increasingly powerful waves.
“I‌ feel now’s the best time. It appears you’re about to die.”
She didn’t even bother giving that statement a response, besides a low growl of pain.
“You can make any wish you want with me– you could easily get away from all of this. You just need to say the word.” Kyubey continued, staring unblinkingly at her.
“Fine, you god-damn pest…” she weakly groaned, light-headed as more and more blood left her body. She lifted herself up as much as she could manage, staring right back at it.
“Let me control this storm, and tame this sea!‌ I’ll make your damned contract!”‌ she shouted, feeling something intangible leave her body the moment the words left her lips.
“As you wish, Sara.”
Lightning began to violently assault the sea around them, crashing down against the water every other second. She cried out and covered her ears, falling to the ground with nothing to support her.
She could hear the man next to her she had thought to have knocked unconscious being violently awoken by the cacophony, but there was nothing she could do. It was like every bit of will had been sapped from her body, and she couldn’t understand why.
“You… crazy, bitch…”‌ he groaned, spitting out a mouthful of blood. He picked up his gun, sneering at her down the sights.
Suddenly, a stray bolt crashed through the cabin and struck Sara directly in the back, forcing a scream of pain out of her. The man dropped the gun again to cover his ears, completely shell-shocked from the deafening noise and heat from the proximity to it.
Despite every nerve in her body screaming at her, a billion volts of electricity cascading in her body, she felt the will to move surging back into her body alongside it. Whatever pain she felt before was completely wiped away in place of this new searing hell.‌
Nonetheless, she started to rise to her feet. Her skin crackled with arcing bolts of electricity, her eyes aglow with a chaotically flickering white light. Those same eyes turned to the man beside her, filled with a sorrowful rage.
“What the hell– what the hell are you?!”‌ he screamed at her, scrambling to grab his gun again. A stray bolt from her body struck his hand, making him yank in back to his body in startled pain.
She moved toward him with purpose, grabbing onto his head and lifting him off his feet with a newfound strength.
“Carry that question with you to hell.”‌ she said, her voice coming out as a distorted roar. Tears streamed down her face as another bolt of lightning cracked into her back, circuiting through her body directly into his.
There was a short scream, but that amount of electricity almost immediately fried the man’s nervous system and stopped his heart. She continued to hold his lifeless, twitching body in her hand– she derived no pleasure from it but felt no remorse in return. She walked out of the cabin with him in her hand, tossing him like a doll into the open sea.
His friend was rising to his feet, looking on in horror.
She turned her head to him, her expression devoid of any discernible emotion as the pouring rain masked her tears. Even without her saying a word, the thug started to back up, every thought in his mind consumed by the overwhelming to get away– but there was nowhere left to go. Not out here, in the middle of the sea.
“S-Sto– this isn’t–” he stammered, desperately searching for any words that wouldn’t lead to his death.
“You made this grave for yourself. It’s time for you to lie in it.” Sara stated, her voice overpowering the storm itself.
A surge of seawater rose from behind her, soaring above her and crashing like a truck into his body. The sound of broken bones and a frightened scream was muffled by the water, as the uncaring, unfeeling sea swallowed him whole.
Sara stood there, silent. The sea began to calm, the storm bending to her will.
What she felt she had to do was done. In a matter of minutes, vengeance was hers. She thought it might make her feel better, but there was still a hole in her heart that their deaths didn’t fill.
She walked into the cabin, staring at her father’s lifeless body. The girl got on her knees, lifting him enough to hold him close to her. There was hardly any warmth left now.
“I’m sorry, dad….” she muttered quietly. “If you’re still watching me from somewhere… tell mom that I’ll be alright. I promise I’ll look after myself, so…” Sara continued, clutching his body tighter. “… you guys don’t need to worry about me anymore.”
                                                         ---------
Sara stood at the grave of her mother, now side by side to a grave made in rocks and flowers. They didn’t have the money for a big funeral or even enough for a coffin and headstone. Any money the two criminals promised them either never existed or had been lost in the struggle.
Even if they did, there was no way to police would’ve believed her if she told them what happened. Her father’s death had to be a secret now. An unmarked grave next to her mother’s was the best she could do for him.
It hurt, but it’s what she needed to do if she wanted to keep moving.
Kyubey had informed her of her new duties while she was digging the grave late last night. It was clear that this would be the thing to occupy most of her time.
She sold the family house to a group of yakuza since legally putting it for sale was out of the question without her father around. It was enough money to get a decent apartment for a long while, but not much else. Having money for food and a place to stay was all she needed. School was out of the question at this point.
“You know, I’ve never seen such powerful magic manifest itself in an untransformed state before. Not many girls simply wish for power… the effects are certainly impressive.” Kyubey stated, sitting atop the grave of Sara’s mother, tail idly flicking around.
She manifested her spear, stopping it just an inch from skewering the creature whole. “If you expect me to humor your banter, do it off her grave, you shitheel.”
Kyubey stared at her unblinking, simply hopping off the headstone to appeal to her. Not that it mattered what she thought of them, but she would certainly be interesting to watch; they didn’t want to lose that opportunity.
“So, where to next?”‌ Kyubey asked.
“Guess I have to find myself a witch now. What else do‌ I have to do, anymore, anyway?” she said, a grim smile on her face.
She left the grave behind, hands in her pockets and eyes to the sidewalk.
Wherever was next… she’d have to find out all on her own.
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havemyoldusername · 5 years
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Teen Wolf X American Assassin Inspired Au
Thank you to @hormmm for the awesome idea, full credit for the storyline!
1.
Lack of sleep wasn’t a foreign experience to Stiles. It had been happening since high school, since he had a fox demon take his head and play with it. It had varied in frequency, sometimes he had good nights, but more often than not he didn’t. If it wasn’t the nightmares of smoke demons and flies, it was the sounds of gunshots and the splatter of blood on the walls of hotel rooms that kept him awake.
It wasn’t a good feeling.
He sat on the edge of his bed, hands clasped tightly together as he attempted to stop them from shaking. He couldn’t, obviously, but it didn’t hurt to try. It had been a long week, longer than most. He was put on a job pretty early on Sunday morning, and despite his reluctance, Stiles said, ‘yes’. He had to. It was his job, so he just really couldn’t say no. He was tasked to kill an international arms dealer who operated some country he really hadn’t heard of, so he set out early that morning on a long flight.
The job ended like all the others. Bloody and another piece of Stiles’ innocence and morality gone. It wasn’t a surprise either, and It wasn’t a new feeling, but it was as familiar as that little voice in the back of his head. The one that hadn’t shut up since...since.
His phone buzzed on his nightstand, another call from his father. Another call Stiles lets ring out. The notification went to sit with the rest, missed calls and texts from his friends and father back in his hometown, people he hadn’t really talked to in years.
Against his better judgement, he picked up his phone and scrolled through some messages.
Hey Stiles...I don’t know if you even get these anymore, but I wanted to ask you to be my best man...Malia and I are getting married next summer.
Scott. He always messaged Stiles with quick updates about his life, inviting Stiles to return, but he never did.
I miss you Stiles...It’s hard here without you. I’m trying to make something of myself but I don’t have you behind me.
Lydia. Stiles never had the heart to respond.
Having had enough with the reminiscing, Stiles slammed his phone back on his nightstand and took in a shaky breath, running his hands over his face.
He had no excuse for ignoring them. No reason.
No reason except the fact that they wouldn’t like who he had become. It was as simple as that.
Scott had always disapproved of Stiles’ methods, even when they were 17. Stiles was always the one who suggested a method ending in a casualty first, usually even before Derek, and sometimes before Peter could even get the chance. Scott always found another way, and some days it made Stiles feel like he was wrong for thinking otherwise. Then there were the times where there wasn’t another way, and Stiles took the hard road and made the call that Scott didn’t like. That ended badly too, except it was Stiles who suffered.
It all got worse after that damned demon made a fox sized shape in his head, and left it there.
Stiles wasn’t the same after it happened. Everyone noticed, and everyone kept quiet until the times where it mattered for them to say nothing. His behaviour became more destructive, his morals began to slip even more, and sometimes Stiles thought it wasn’t just the Nogitsune’s fault, that maybe it would have happened regardless.
Sometimes he thinks he’s right in thinking that.
Another cause for more sleepless nights, he supposed.
He tried, he really did, to go straight. He joined the FBI, tried to amend the things he’d done in his past that were so far from legal that he was surprised the FBI didn’t pick anything up in their screening process. It went well until the CIA did recruitments, and they happened to choose Stiles.
He just didn’t know when to say ‘no’ to those sorts of things. Except, these days he didn’t know when it was him making the decisions, or the voice behind his ear, the devil on his shoulder, the demon in his head.
He found out pretty quickly that he made a great member of their team. Under the alias they had given him and the codename of ‘Iron Man’, he was a solid asset, one of the best really. He was proud of that some days, some days he didn’t think about the reality of his job, and those were the best days, but then there were the days where he remembered.
How did it feel?
One word. Good.
He supposed his past led directly to his present. He liked to scoff at that, protest even, but he knew it was true. The kid with more blood on his hands than the entire town combined decided to become an assassin, to get more.
What a fucking surprise.
He picked up the bottle of whiskey sitting beside his feet and just drank, not even caring about the amount, or the consequences. At this point in his miserable existence, he thought he might as well enjoy it while it lasted.
It’d be so very Stiles to die from alcohol poisoning instead of a bullet between the eyes.
That didn’t sound too bad either, if he was honest.
One day.
Maybe.
Maybe not.
He supposed it would depend on how drunk he was.
He laughed as he drowned himself in whiskey.
Fitting.
2.
Being slightly drunk while on a job probably wasn’t the best way to be efficient, but he managed. Barely. His partner was pissed, but that wasn’t new. At least he was getting the job done.
“You okay to go in from the back door?” His partner, Rick Stanley, asked.
“Yeah.” Stiles breathed and pulled his Beretta from his waistband, cocking it at the ready.
“Don’t screw this up.” Stanley hissed before leaving position and moving towards the front.
Their target had evaded them through six countries, right before settling down in a hillside villa in the Mexican countryside, his own damn hometown. He probably figured he was in the clear, but Stiles and his team had been following at a distance.
Stiles entered quietly through the back, right on signal, and silently walked through the halls. He came upon a bedroom that he slipped inside, only to find a young woman, who was most likely naked, sitting in the bed against the wall, blankets pulled up to her shoulders and eyes wide in surprise. Stiles put a finger over his lips and gestured with his gun to the closet. The woman wrapped herself in a sheet before leaving the bed and getting into the closet at Stiles’ request. He figured she’d stay there, she probably knew exactly what her boyfriend - or client if Stiles was being honest - did for a living.
Stiles waiting for a few minutes, eyes looking through a small opening he’d left between the door and the frame, watching the small area within his view.
“Greyhound to Iron man, green light to execute.” Stanley’s voice came over Stiles’ comm set, and without a second to waste, Stiles left the room.
He walked down the hall, his eyes skimming for threats, weapon tight to his chest as he walked so he was prepared if anyone were to jump him. He followed the sound of a television until he came upon an open plan kitchen, dining and lounge area. A man sat on the couch, watching some cheesy soap opera in Spanish. Stiles wasted no time and aimed his weapon at the man’s head.
“You have some balls, La Parca.” A voice behind Stiles said, and the feeling of cold metal on the back of his neck made his blood run cold. The figure on the cough stood and the man left the room, simply giving a side glance to Stiles.
Stiles turned slowly, his feet stumbling as he did so. Even an assassin had off days. Stiles had more and more of those lately.
“You have some balls pointing a gun at my head.” Stiles frowned as he slurred his words slightly. Damn tequila he had while staking out the house an hour before hand.
The man, Mexican cartel leader Francisco Garcia Hernandez, laughed and pulled down the hammer of his pistol and Stiles heard the click. Stiles didn’t even hesitate as he quickly grabbed the gun and pushed it away from Hernandez the same instant he twisted. Hernandez let out a cry of pain and dropped the gun.
Stiles swept his wobbly leg under Hernandez, used both hands to hold him up just as Stiles sloppily kicked Hernandez. He threw punches, only for Hernandez to finally get his footing and throw a punch to Stiles’ - stupidly - unprotected face. Stiles fell back at the pure force and stumbled against the couch.
“Is that alcohol I smell, La Parca?” Hernandez laughed and threw another punch, then a kick to Stiles’ stomach. Stiles grunted and fell to the floor, dropping his gun in the process.
“Where the fuck are you, Stanley?” Stiles hissed, more to himself than anything, but he hoped Stanley was listening.
Stiles wasn’t that lucky, and pretty soon his stupid drunken brain couldn’t keep up with the attacks Hernandez was throwing on him and he slumped and took them. He couldn’t comprehend it enough to retaliate, and pretty soon he was seeing spots.
Then a particular knock to the head seemed to wake him up, or make him crazier than he already was, but he figured it didn’t matter in the moment.
Stiles pulled his knife from his ankle holster - the same ankle that was currently crumpled against his thigh as his leg contorted in an odd angle that he was sure meant it was broken - and thrust it as quick as he could into the soft spot on Hernandez’s neck, the spot between the collar bones.
Hernandez fell back in shock as blood pooled around the wound. He clasped his hand to it just as Stiles pulled the knife out and within a second, Hernandez was on the floor, gurgling as blood pooled around him from his neck and his mouth.
Stiles slowly stood and limped his way over Hernandez’s spluttering body and over to the kitchen where he pulled a cold beer from Hernandez’s fridge. It was that moment that Stanley rounded the corner, gun up. He saw Hernandez’s body and Stiles’ bloody face and the beer in his hand, and simply put his gun down with a sigh.
“Where the fuck were you?” Stiles slurred as he snapped at his partner.
“There were guards.” Stanley sighed. “You seemed to take care of Hernandez pretty okay.”
“I nearly died, asshat.” Stiles grunted and took another swig of his beer. “There’s a dude walking around somewhere, and a lady in the closet of the guest bedroom down the hall.” Stiles informed Stanley, who only nodded and walked out of the room.
That seemed to be the first time Stiles noticed it. Instead of the familiar guilt plaguing his mind, his nightmares and his nerves, Stiles didn’t really feel anything at all.
Hernandez became a number.
So did the next one, and the one after that.
And the others that came later.
His kills began to add up and soon Stiles was doing jobs like clockwork, almost robotic in nature, and as if it didn’t occur to him before, he was sure his eyes would have been blue if he’d ever gotten bitten by a werewolf. The one good part of his job seemed to be staying away from the supernatural.
It got to a point where Stiles barely even cared when he took out another mark. It became just another talley on his list of achievements in the agency, and another number to his count.
104
135
179
210
267
It all blurred together after a while, and soon he lost count. His routine never broke, and he never payed a lick of attention to the person he was becoming, and a part of him thought he was already there, the agency just allowed him to refine that person.
He was inclined to agree.
His persona outside of work was a simple mask of false confidence and charisma that tended to get him a few distractions on his nights off, distractions that usually ended in an “I'll call you”. The false promises seemed to be his brand, and the distractions were his way to feel somewhat closer to humanity.
His only way of keeping himself human was the alcohol, the false promises and the nights he spent alone at his apartment with a whiskey bottle in hand, and a gun in the other. Some days he just stared at it, other days he played a few rounds of Russian roulette.
It was actually a miracle that he never won.
He supposed it was whatever higher power’s way of getting him back to Beacon Hills the moment he overworked himself too hard and got a broken arm and ankle to prove it.
So his handler sent him home for a ‘much needed vacation’.
Stiles scoffed in her face, but complied anyway.
It was time to face the music, and he was pretty sure the music was too loud.
3.
The ride was long and the driver was silent. Stiles was bored, his overly active brain began to think too much, and with him that wasn’t exactly the best way to spend a few hours without anything to distract him. He distracted himself with his phone for the first half of the trip, but he ran his phone battery down to the last percent, so he was left with his thoughts and a really talkative driver.
He stared out the window and decided to slip into a state of numbness.
Though, he didn’t really think he decided on it, it just happened.
It was better than the alternative.
He only came back to reality the moment they passed the ‘Welcome to Beacon Hills’ sign. Stiles’ nerves began to rise and he actually laughed at the fact. A damn assassin got nervous when visiting his home town.
Go figure.
The driver didn’t even ask where Stiles wanted to go, he just pulled out outside Stiles’ father’s house and said nothing when Stiles asked to go somewhere else. The man wouldn’t leave, so Stiles was forced to get out. When the driver immediately left the street after Stiles collected his bags, Stiles was about to follow on foot, but something drew him back.
Without realising it, Stiles was at the front door, hand in a fist ready to knock. He pulled his hand back, hesitating. He turned back around, ready to leave when the door opened. Stiles froze, his arm that was in a sling tense, and his body wavering slightly at the unbalanced nature of the boot on his foot.
“Can I help you?” The sound of his father’s voice flipped a switch and Stiles turned around slowly.
“I was...I was about to leave.” Stiles said, his voice shaky as he did so. His father seemed to be in shock and he fell to the ground, not with a thud, but with his hand still grasped on the door handle, his legs just seemed to buckle from under him. “Should I leave?”
“No! God No!” Noah exclaimed. He reclaimed his voice and his motor control, and he stood. He wasted no time in bringing Stiles in for a bone crushing hug, that Stiles welcomed regardless of his intentions.
He missed his father.
God, he missed his father.
He didn’t realise it, but five years had passed without contact, and Stiles had never really been that far apart from his father for that long.
“I-I missed you.” Stiles admitted.
“I missed you too, son. I didn’t even know what happened to you!” Noah pulled back and faced his son. “What the hell happened to you? Where were you? Where did you go?” Stiles bit his lip and looked down.
“I can’t say.”
“Why not?” Noah frowned.
“It-It’s classified.” Stiles told him.
In that instant, Noah knew everything. Stiles hadn’t told him a word, but Noah, as the military man he was and having dealt with the police for half his life, knew the kinds of mission that required the answer to enquiries be ‘classified’. He knew the type of things that Stiles would have had to do in a single instant because of a single word, and with that realisation, Stiles collapsed into his father’s arms, exhaustion creeping in.
“I’m tired.” Stiles said. “I think I want to sleep for a while...I haven’t slept for...I don’t know.” Stiles chuckled humourlessly.
“Of course, son.” Noah said softly. Noah grabbed Stiles’ bags and helped his son into the living room and onto the couch, where Stiles settled quickly.
As soon as his head touched the cushion at the end of the couch, Stiles felt the darkness creeping at the edge of his vision, and he welcomed it.
During his sleep, Noah had put a blanket over Stiles as he simply sat next to his son. His son who he couldn’t even believe was next to him.
When Stiles woke up, Noah was in the kitchen.
Stiles was grateful that his father pretended not be bothered by the nightmares.
Noah was worried, but glad that the one thing he loved more than anything in the world was back by his side.
4.
Noah didn’t even have to say a thing and Stiles never had to announce his arrival for the Pack to know he was there. They showed up the next morning, Scott, Malia and Lydia, all asking to see him. Stiles was in the living room, listening, and simply marvelling at the fact that the pack bonds were apparently still strong enough to sense a member of the Pack returning five years later.
Noah let them in and they faced Stiles for the first time in five years.
He didn’t look the same. He was bulkier and scruffier, a little rough around the edges and beaten up physically and mentally.
Scott, Malia and Lydia all looked older. It wasn’t just the wedding rings on Scott and Malia’s fingers that said that, but it was the lines that never used to be there, the subtle changes, the scars.
Lydia looked as exhausted as Stiles, while Scott and Malia looked...content.
Stiles didn’t even pretend that he didn’t notice Lydia’s pained expression when she got closer to him, and it wasn’t because he smelt.
She sensed it all.
He couldn’t hide it from them.
It happened before he could register it. Lydia put her hand on his and immediately her eyes rolled back into her head, her body slumping backwards.
Scott and Malia supported her quickly as they slowly moved her onto the floor.
Lydia, however, was suffering. What she saw...she had never seen that, never felt it with anyone else.
The images that flashed through her head were horrifying, the pleading eyes, the malicious smiles and the glint of a gun. The sound of a gunshot echoed through her head, and then another followed. Soon a deafening, layered sound of hundreds of gunshots caused her to whimper.
“Please! Not me! Please!”
“I’m not the guy you want! It’s him! Kill him! Not me!”
“How about both?”
Lydia gasped and her eyes fluttered open. Scott and Malia were standing over her with worried expressions, while Stiles was staring at her with an ashamed look In his eyes, but the coldness in his expression was clear as day. She gasped and sat up, but before she could get a word out, she let out an involuntary scream that shook the house and had everyone in it cowering on the floor in pain.
When she finished, she watched Stiles slowly pick himself up off the floor and sit back on the couch.
“Why?” She breathed out the question. Scott and Malia gave her questioning looks while Stiles looked to the floor before looking back at her, the shame in his eyes replaced by a determined stare that seemed simultaneously practiced and natural.
“It pays well.” He told her honestly.
Scott looked between them and the exchange. He tried to think of what Lydia saw to get that reaction from Stiles, and every thought he came to was horrible. He didn’t know, didn’t think he wanted to know, but he needed to know.
“What are you talking about?” Scott asked. Malia put her hand on his as if she had already figured it out.
“Old habits die hard.” Stiles told him. “I guess my hands are a little bloodier than the last time you saw me.”
“Stiles-” Scott cut himself off and let out a long breath.
“I guess the Nogitsune was right, you know? Theo too, I guess.” He laughed but the undertone was dark and full of trauma that Scott didn’t even realise Stiles could posses.
“You don’t have to do this.” Scott almost pleaded, having put two and two together.
“Yeah, Scotty, I do.” Stiles barked a laugh and shook his head. “It’s my job.”
The cold look in his eyes was not something Scott would ever forget.
Lydia would always remember those faces, their voices and the images of their heads being pierced by a bullet flying at high speed from a gun in Stiles’ hands.
Stiles? Well, Stiles continued his life, his job, his routine.
Like clockwork.
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blkvdova-a · 4 years
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@wickian​ said: He thinks he first noticed the frustration when he took off his jacket and he attempted to ignore it as he untied his tie. The mind was focused on getting himself bandaged up, the body on the pain, and yet he was still undoing each shirt button, one by one, while blood soaked through the white dress shirt. Whatever patience he seemed to have, she didn't share it. John's brows furrow and he stops abruptly when Natasha takes his wrists and pulls them away, ordering him to sit. He does.
[from: unknown]:   <    𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝    >   *   ru.
                  the   message   reaches   her   when   she’s   halfway   across   prague,   following   a   trail   going   colder   and   colder   with   each   step.   no   scent   in   the   wind   but   that   of   old,   stale   blood,   droplets   scrubbed   clean   but   where   the   local   police   didn’t   know   where   to   look   ---------   natasha   is   not   the   local   police,   nor   is   she   particularly   fond   of   being   blindsighted.   a   negative   response   from   james   to   her   string   of   question   marks   solves   the   mystery,   promptly   informing   her   that   the   culprit   is   the   other   american   boy   olga   would   know.   she   had   met   john   during   a   soiree   in   which   the   both   of   them   had   amassed   a   total   of   thirty   bodies   to   add   to   their   ever   growing   pile   in   the   closet.   olga,   of   course,   one   of   the   few   to   be   trusted,   when   so   few   were   the   dogs   who   had   gnawed   away   at   mother   russia’s   collar   before   the   iron   curtain   was   melted   away.
               it’s   not   hard   to   turn   the   jet   around,   but   it’s   the   principle   that   counts,   and   she   allows   herself   a   brief   moment   of   tacit   exasperation   as   it   disappears   once   again   into   the   clouds.   she   had   told   him   not   to   go   after   andirev.   not   out   of   misplaced   possessiveness   over   a   mark   that   had   been   on   her   radar   for   over   three   decades,   but   because   as   she   had   warned   ---------   quite   thoroughly   and   fairly   ---------   that   andriev   was   not   one   of   his   schoolboys   to   play   with.   she   ought   to   have   known   that   saying   that   would   only   make   john   want   to   pursue   this   even   more.   there   is   something   delicate   about   male   ego,   and   she   had   had   enough   experience   with   those   to   know   when   to   handle   them   with   kid   gloves.
               the   scheduled   stop   to   amsterdam   stays   on   her   manifest,   because   she   had   intended   to   talk   to   an   arm’s   dealer   about   the   almost-bombing   of   the   u.n.,   and   because   john   can   handle   himself   for   a   couple   more   hours.   it   proves   fruitful,   even   if   it   helps   very   little   with   her   general   mood.
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               precisely   five   hours   after   receiving   the   text   message,   the   door   to   the   tacky   warehouse   gets   kicked   in.   she   goes   through   three   magazines,   discards   the   beretta   for   a   knife,   and   saves   the   damsel   with   a   lack   of   flair   that   would   otherwise   be   alarming   if   not   for   the   fact   that   john   was   bleeding   quite   profusely,   chained   up   to   a   chair   like   he   is.   he’s   had   worse.   she’s   had   worse.   life   goes   on,   because   this   is   what   life   is   for   them.   andriev,   obviously   to   everyone   but   john,   isn’t   even   in   the   country.   as   long   as   he   had   been   in   the   game,   there   are   still   things   he   cannot   learn,   and   natasha   cannot   teach   him.   self   preservation   seems   to   be   one   of   those   things,   but   then   again,   most   men   in   her   life   suffer   from   an   acute   lack   of   just   that.
               every   motion   after   that   is   perfunctory.   whoever   the   mindless   goons   were   expecting   to   come   for   him,   it   wasn’t   the    𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊   𝐖𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐖   striding   in   like   an   avenging   angel   of   death,   and   maybe   that’s   a   blessing   in   disguise.   the   drive   away   from   there   is   silent,   but   for   the   winces   on   his   part   she   pretends   not   to   notice.   it   leads   them   to   her   nearest   safe   house,   not   because   he’s   in   critical   condition,   but   because   she’d   rather   not   have   him   drip   blood   all   over   her   new   carpet.   there   she   watches,   arms   crossed   and   fingers   tapping   against   her   forearm,   as   he   tries   to   get   himself   out   of   the   ridiculous   suit   he   wears   like   a   suit   of   armour.   part   of   her   enjoys   the   struggle:   it   serves   him   right.   but   she’s   always   been   strangely   fond   of   him,   especially   when   he’s   being   stupid.   she   doesn’t   know   what   that   revelation   says   about   her.
               <   sit   still.   >   *   ru.         a   command,   one   he   obeys   without   protest,   once   she’s   had   enough.   for   a   fleeting   moment   she   sees   him   much   younger,   bruises   on   his   knuckles   and   a   roguish   smile,   can   almost   hear   him   reassure   her   that   he   is   fine.   he   knows   better   than   to   try   now,   knows   she   can   read   him   like   one   of   his   precious   books.   if   he   registers   the   russian,   he   does   not   show   it.   she   does   not   coddle   and   she   does   not   fuss,   but   her   touch   is   light   as   she   threads   the   needle   through,   allowing   him   only   a   couple   pain   killers   and   a   half   empty   bottle   of   vodka.   it’s   not   as   ugly   as   it   looked   now   that   he’s   clean,   but   the   gash   spanning   over   his   side   will   most   likely   scar.
               <   you   need   to   be   more   careful.   >   *   ru.         not   a   sentence   uttered   for   the   first   time   tonight,   nor   for   the   last   by   the   look   of   things.   once   done,   the   bloodied   towel   and   gauze   get   thrown   into   the   trash,   before   she   takes   once   again   her   position   of   vigil   by   him   on   the   couch.   his   shirt   is   positively   ruined,   but   she’s   sure   she   can   find   something   of   james’   somewhere   if   she   really   looks.         “   i   told   you   not   to   go   after   him.   ”         it   comes   out   of   her   mouth   before   he   has   the   time   to   utter   either   apology   or   thanks,   and   the   look   on   his   face   conveys   both.         “   if   you   can’t   be   smart   about   it,   then   stop.   you’re   getting   sloppy,   reckless   .  .  .   you   need   a   break.   you’re   no   use   to   anyone   dead.   ”
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                  and   isn’t   this   what   they   always   do   ??   look   out   for   the   human   when   the   whole   world   sees   them   as   wrought   out   of   steel.   delicately,   she   pushes   a   finger   against   his   shoulder,   watching   the   crescent   moon   imprint   her   nail   leaves   behind.   he   catches   her   hand,   twines   fingers   together   ---------   it’s   all   it   takes   for   her   to   deflate,   all   anxious   energy   vanishing   on   the   exhale.   he   is   not   going   to   stop,   just   as   she   is   not   going   to   stop,   but   in   brief   periods   of   respite   like   this,   maybe   they’re   allowed   to   think   of   it.
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thebuckybrigade · 6 years
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Healing Hands Part 3
At first you didn’t know why you had awoken, you only knew that your instincts were screaming that something was wrong. Adrenaline throbbed through your body with each beat of your heart and as you sat up slowly in bed, you heard the soft, but distinct sound of footsteps on your wood flooring. 
In a beat you were rolling over to open the gun safe beside your bed, not needing to check to know the Beretta was loaded. Gently, you slid from bed, feet barely a whisper against the floor as you crept towards the door to try and hear better. 
Whoever it was in your apartment, they were stealthy, you had to give them that. You could barely hear their steps, and it was only the creak of the floorboard outside your door that gave away their position. 
“I think you should know before you come any further, I’m armed and I won’t hesitate to shoot,” you called, loud enough for whoever was on the other side of the door to hear. 
There was a long moment of silence and then whoever it was, started firing. The cheap plywood door shattered under the assault, debris flying past your face as you took cover behind your dresser. 
The remains of the door crashed against the wall and a large masked figure stalked in, Desert Eagle in hand. 
Jesus that’s a huge fuckin gun you thought wildly as the man glanced around the room, searching for you. Leaning around the edge of the dresser you lined up your shot and fired, nailing him in the thigh and then the left foot. 
With a scream he went down, firing wildly. Swearing, you ducked behind the dresser and then sprinted out, kicking the gun from his hand as you held him at gunpoint. 
His chest rose and fell rapidly as blood seeped out from his thigh wound and you glared down at him. “Who the fuck are you?” you demanded, growing even more annoyed when he refused to answer. 
His gaze from beneath the mask flickered over your shoulder and you almost didn’t turn, but there was a soft sound from behind you, and your instincts screamed once more. 
Turning, you had a split second before you saw the butt of the gun coming towards your face and then there was just pain splitting through your skull and a ringing in your head you couldn’t shake. 
Distantly you could hear the men talking, and when you managed to open your eyes for a moment, you saw another masked figure dragging the injured man out the front door. 
The pain in your skull throbbed harder, and darkness rushed up around the edges to consume you. 
“Doc, Doc, come on, wake up darlin.”
The deep velvety voice was familiar, but you hadn’t heard the urgency in it before, and a frown furrowed your brow as you tried to figure out why. 
“Doc, you need to open those eyes for me, come on now.”
Cable, it was Cable...you recognized that voice. 
“Nate,” you rasped, eyes fluttering open. You smiled faintly at the slightly haggard and craggy visage above you and then winced as pain shot through your skull.   
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“Easy darlin, easy,” Nate urged, a large hand covering your shoulder and keeping you on the ground with very little effort. “What happened?” he asked, glancing around at the damage to your bedroom. 
Frowning, you peered around too and then it all came back in a rush. “Someone--two men, broke in. They shot through the door and I-I got a drop on one, shot him in the thigh and foot so I could question him, but his partner pistol whipped me,” you told him, voice raspy. 
Nate looked around, left eye glowing as he assessed the damage. His jaw hardened as he turned back to look at you, “Did they take anything?” he asked gruffly. 
Shaking your head faintly, you winced at the pain and sat up a little, trying to peer around. It didn’t seem like it...
“I don’t think so.” A thought occurred to you and you grabbed Nate’s arm, fingers tightening around his firm muscles. “What about the police?” you demanded worriedly. 
“I got the shots fired notification for your address, we hacked their system to make it look like someone had already responded. They won’t be coming,” Nate told you firmly. 
You weren’t sure if that made you feel better or worse. 
Nate’s gaze softened as it landed on you once more and one of his hands lifted, his knuckles brushing against your cheek for a moment before it shifted and his thumb was swiping delicately over your brow, a sharp pain following the touch. 
When he pulled his thumb away it was coated in red, and you stared at it in surprise. Nate stared at it for a moment and then sighed heavily, shaking his head as he leaned over you and lifted you into his arms. 
Squeaking in surprise, you tried to slap his shoulder but instead just clung to it while your head throbbed. 
“What am I gonna do with you, huh doc?” he asked softly, and you could have sworn there was affection in his voice as he carried you to your bed, but maybe that was just the concussion...
“You don’t have to carry me,” you protested tiredly, though it was somewhat futile, your eyes were already beginning to close again, and the sick sensation in your head was exhausting. 
“Mmmhmm, well, I don’t think you’re quite up to walking yet doc,” he replied softly, his voice a low purr in your ear. A moment later you were lowered to your bed, the sheets pulled up around you and when you opened your eyes, you found Nate peering at you with a soft expression on his face. 
His lips pulled into what you thought was a smile and he held out a couple of pills and a glass of water. “Here you go doc. Drink up,” he encouraged, his hand coming up to guide you up so you could swallow the pills and drain the glass. 
As you sank back down to the pillows you felt his hand rest on the top of your head, “Get some rest doc, I’ll keep watch,” he assured you, voice warm. 
Nodding loosely, you smiled faintly up at him, eyes already falling closed. “Thanks Nate,” you whispered. 
It took two days before you could get out of bed without your head spinning in a sickening manner. Two days in which Nate slept on your couch, made sure you were eating, repaired your door, and changed the bandage on your split brow. 
He had even called out of work for you, explaining that he was your boyfriend, taking care of you while you suffered through a stomach bug. Apparently everyone at work was so shocked by the idea that you had a boyfriend, they hadn’t questioned anything. 
On this, the third day, Nate was sitting on the couch beside you, cleaning his frankly impressive array of guns while you watched from the corner of your eye as a cooking show marathoned in the background. 
It wasn’t that you didn’t like guns--you had been in the military after all--it was just, some of Nate’s guns could vaporize people, and well, it was weird. Plus you were pretty sure you had seen one of the firing pins fly across the table and into his palm. 
What was that about? 
More than a little bored out of your mind, you turned to watch him fully, not caring that it was probably rude, or that you were staring at his muscles as he worked because really, it was ridiculous how good looking Nate was. 
If he wasn’t married with a kid--from the future so they didn’t even exist yet--your brain naggingly insisted, you would have been all over him. He never talked about the family he had lost and he didn’t like to talk about how he had stayed behind to help Wade, but he also didn’t seem to regret his choices when you had asked him about what had happened to keep him here. 
He had also been taking care of you for three days without argument or complain, and in fact, had seemed to relax around you more than you had seen him do in the past. 
He had made you meals, perfected your tea, watched House Hunters without complaint (though his muttered commentary about the unrealistic expectations of international buyers never failed to make you laugh), and even helped to fold laundry. 
Watching his large, muscular hands fit the delicate pieces of his guns together into large cohesive wholes sent a weird thrill through you, along with the urge to have his hands on you instead of the guns. 
“Hey Nate,” you murmured carefully, smiling when he looked up at you questioningly. His eyes were warm when they met yours and a hint of a smile played at his firm mouth. 
“Would you rub my head like you did the other day? I have a headache again,” you lied, brow furrowing to sell the story. Nate studied you for a moment, a faint glow emanating from his left eye before he nodded slowly and finished assembling the gun. 
As he set the weapon aside you shifted on the couch and sidled back until his thigh pressed into your lower back. Crossing your legs, you reached up and tugged your hair from its tie, letting the thick brown waves fall around your shoulders. 
You could hear his breathing as he shifted behind you and then, his fingers were working into your hair, pressing into your scalp, and a soft moan was slipping from you.
It wouldn’t be a lie to say that Nate had incredible hands. Whether they were killing, cooking, or massaging, you happened to like them a lot. If you were slightly distracted by the ideas of what else they could do, well...no one could really blame you for that, could they?
What little tension there was in your body slowly slipped away under Nate’s touch and you dropped your head forward a little, moaning as his hands found knots in your neck and shoulders. 
“Ahhh that’s amazing Nate,” you breathed, a tiny whimper escaping you at the intensity of the muscles releasing. It was like pain so sweet it was blissful. Like a bruise you kept poking or a Charlie horse releasing, it hurt so good. 
Nate made a soft sound from behind you and his hands gradually stilled. “Uh, all good?” he asked, sounding uncertain. 
Half turning to smile at him, you nodded lazily. “So good. You should do that all the time, you’ve got a gift,” you told him warmly. 
His lips quirked and a smile crept onto them, chasing away the hard lines of his face. “My wife used to tell me she thought I musta been a masseuse in another life,” he agreed softly. 
“She was right,” you agreed, smiling warmly, “But, why don’t you let me return the favor? You’ve been taking care of me so much, I should at least do that much as a thank you,” you reasoned, watching as his face closed off with a wary set to his jaw. 
“No thanks darlin, I’ve gotta finish cleaning these,” he muttered, turning away to focus his attention on the weapons once more. The rejection stung more than you cared to admit, but instead of saying anything else, you rose from the couch, left him to clean his guns, and went to shower. 
Flipping on your favorite playlist of sultry songs, you blasted the music while you sang along under the shower, making a plan in your head to finally seduce Nate. When you had shaved, shampooed and rinsed off, you shut the water off and stepped out to slather on lotion scented with amber and sandalwood. 
Tying your robe closed, you went to your dresser and stared into its depths, frowning at the scant lingerie inside. You had seen Nate stare at your breasts a few times since you had stitched him up in the hospital bathroom, and had even felt what could have been an erection when you had been sitting practically in his lap this week getting one of his signature massages. 
Each time you had been in sweatpants and a tshirt and you had to wonder if maybe simple was better for Nate. With a sigh, you reached for a pair of ice blue lace underwear and a matching bra. 
It was simple, light material that you could see your nipples through, and if you played this right, just might end up on your bedroom floor courtesy of those hands you had been fantasizing about for months. 
Slipping the garments on, you once more tied the silky robe around yourself and fluffed your wet hair before peering into your mirror and grinning. Your brow would need a new bandage, and well, now was the perfect time. 
Strolling out as casually as you could manage, you watched as Nate’s shoulders stiffened slightly at the sound of your approach. “Hey Nate, can you change the bandage on my brow? I’d appreciate it,” you murmured as you rounded the end of the couch, drawing his gaze up. 
His eyes widened in shock and you could see his pupils expanding as his gaze ran over your body, the robe barely concealing your form or the lingerie beneath it. His hands closed convulsively around the gun parts in his hands and you could hear the protesting squeal of metal from his left hand as the gun was slowly crushed. 
“Nate?” you murmured, lifting a brow and waving a hand in his face, “Earth to Nate?”
He huffed out a growl and nodded, looking away hastily. Smirking, you sank down on the couch beside him once more and handed over the bandage, turning your chin so your hair fell to the side, and coincidentally, so did the shoulder of your robe. 
The strap of your bra was exposed, along with a good swath of skin, and you could hear Nate’s sharp inhale before he muttered, “Jesus Christ.” His hands remained steady as he applied the bandage, though his gaze remained firmly above the neck. 
When he had finished you smile sweetly and leaned in, taking him by surprise with a kiss to the cheek. “Thank you for taking care of me Nate. I hope I haven’t been too much trouble,” you murmured in a soft, sultry voice. 
He let out a choked laugh and shook his head, a thick strand of his hair falling forward into his eyes and when you reached forward to push it back, his gaze rose to meet yours once more. 
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“What’re you doing darlin?” he asked gruffly, shaking his head, “You don’t want an old man like me.”
Smirking, you lifted a brow, “Oh? Because I’m pretty sure I do,” you replied firmly, rising up on your knees as your hands went to the tie of your robe. Nate’s gaze was dark and hungry as you undid it and let the silky fabric slide from your body, leaving you exposed before him. 
“I’m pretty sure I’ve wanted you since I started to get to know you at the hospital,” you told him softly, standing up slowly, his gaze steady, watching your limbs unfold from the couch. 
“I’m pretty sure I’ve been flirting with you for months, and I think you’ve noticed,” you said with a wry smirk, stepping sideways until you could step forward between his spread legs. 
Stepping forward until there was nowhere else for you to go but into his lap, your grin faded and you stared at him seriously. “I’m pretty sure that you want me as much as I want you,” you murmured, slowly sinking down onto his lap. 
Nate stared up at you with wide, dark eyes, hands at his sides rising to slide up your thighs slowly. A shiver ran over your skin and his gaze sharpened at your reaction. 
One of his hands slid up your back and into your damp hair, holding you in place as he sat up, mouth just a breath from yours. His eyes were steady on yours as he whispered, “You’re playing with fire darlin.”
“Good,” you hissed, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt to pull him closer, “Because it’s been burning me alive, this desire for you,” you whispered. 
Nate growled and smashed his mouth against yours. It was a bruising, all consuming kiss that stole the very breath from your lungs as it seared itself into your skin’s memory. Moaning into the kiss, your hands slid up from his chest to furrow through his silver black hair, mouth hungry against his. 
His taste was intoxicating, and when you nipped at his lower lip and heard him groan, you decided it was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard. Digging your nails into his scalp, you sucked his lower lip between your teeth and flicked your tongue against it, reveling in his groan. 
Rolling your hips against his, you moaned deep in your throat to feel his thick erection beneath you. Tearing your mouth away from his, you seared kisses down his jaw and over his throat, sucking mark after mark onto his skin in a show of possession that came from your very soul. 
Nate moaned as your teeth closed on the skin just above where the metal began and you pulled back slightly, “Did that hurt?” you asked worriedly. His hands tightened on your hips as a negative sound came from his throat. 
“It’s good,” he panted, rolling his hips into yours to provide proof of his point. 
With a hum, you licked over the spot and made a soft noise at the taste of his skin. Slightly metallic, salty from leftover sweat, and deliciously warm. Your teeth closed around part of his metal flesh and your tongue laved against it, eliciting a low, rumbling moan from Nate. 
Your hips were grinding together in a mimicry of what was to come, and you could feel his breathing grow slowly unsteady. Sliding out of his lap, you sank to your knees between his legs and smirked up at him as you undid the belt on his canvas pants, palming his cock as you went. 
Nate rumbled out a groan, arching into the touch. 
Sliding his pants down his thighs a little, you let out a tiny choked noise of delight when you saw he was going commando. His cock was thick, and long, with a veiny underside that you couldn’t wait to run your tongue over. 
Wasting little time, you leaned in and slipped his fat heat past your lips, opening wider as he slipped deeper into your mouth. Your jaw ached a little, but you didn’t mind, not with his cock finally in your figurative grasp. 
Nate moaned brokenly, hips jutting up and you groaned as the thick head of it hit the back of your throat. Sucking on him as you pulled back, you pumped the base of the shaft as your tongue traced every vein and thick ridge of skin. 
“Fuck! Oh god, yea, just like that!” 
You hummed happily as Nate growled out compliments, his metal fingers twining in your hair and tugging faintly. The tang of pre cum flavored your tongue and you lifted your head to suck eagerly at the tip, flicking your tongue along the weeping slit. 
Nate’s hips jerked in response, a string of expletives coming from him that slowly grew louder and less coherent as you continued to suck him off. 
“Fuck! I’m gonna...darlin!” he shouted, trying to give you warning, but you didn’t stop, instead you sucked and licked harder at the sensitive area around his foreskin until he was shouting your name and coming in hot waves down your throat. 
You swallowed him eagerly, licking his cock clean until with a shudder, he gently pulled your head away with a faint grimace. “Gimme a minute darlin, I aint as young as I once was,” he joked, a smile coming to his lips as you rose up to kiss him, neither of you caring that you had just swallowed down his cum. 
Rising to your feet, you held out a hand to him, pulling him up so you could fix his pants and lead him back to your bedroom. Pushing him down onto the mattress, you leaned over him and pulled his clothes off, a small groan of delight coming from deep in your throat at the sight of his naked body. 
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His cock was still half hard, lying against his thigh, but you left it be for the moment. Instead, you straddled his waist, peering down at him lustfully. “I’m going to sit on your face and you’re going to eat me out, sound good?” you murmured, grinning when he nodded eagerly, hands pulling on your hips. 
Rising up, you slid forward until your knees were on either side of his head and your lace covered pussy was over his mouth. His dark eyes met yours as his fingers spread over your ass, tugging on the material as he asked, “You want these off?” 
Shaking your head, you grinned, “Consider it a challenge,” you murmured, though he could probably smell your arousal, and see it on the light colored material. Nate just grinned and tugged on your hips, pulling you down until his hot breath hit your pussy. 
His mouth went to work, sucking your pussy lips into his mouth, dragging them past the fabric of your lingerie as he slid his tongue up and over it, soaking the material slowly. 
Heat had already been building in your cunt, a slow, steady ache that was only continuing to grow as his mouth devoured you. His fingers dug into the flesh of your ass, pulling you so close you distantly worried about him suffocating. 
He didn’t seem to mind though. 
No, he seemed entirely focused. 
Nate’s teeth tugged on the fabric of the lingerie so his tongue could slide past it and fuck into your cunt, the material restricting his movement, but still, it was...delicious. 
Your back arched into the sensation as tiny ripples of pleasure built within you, spreading outwards. Palming your breasts, you rolled the nipples between your fingers, whining softly at the achy pleasure radiating with each touch. 
Switching to light circles of your nipples with your thumb, you breathed unsteadily as Nate licked up, tongue flicking over your still cloth covered clit. It wasn’t enough, not yet. 
Abandoning one breast, you reached down and tugged aside the fabric, too eager to have his mouth on you properly to care about the challenge you had set him. To Nate’s credit, he didn’t argue, just put his talented tongue to work. 
He switched between rapid flicks and slow, hard laves, alternating between the two styles to keep you from falling over the edge. You gasped and moaned loudly as your peak grew closer once more, only to have it fall away as his tongue moved away for a moment, letting some of the tension break. 
“Nate, ohhhh, fuck! Stop...fucking around!” you demanded heatedly. You could feel his laughter against you before he shifted and sucked your clit between his teeth, the sharp edges catching and sending you careening over the cliff. 
“FUCK! Ahhh, Ahhh, oh GOD!” you cried as he continued to suck, your cries growing louder as two of his fingers suddenly slid into you, curling and finding that sensitive spot within you with unnerving accuracy. 
Shudder after shudder ran through your cunt, waves of release too powerful for you to even attempt to fight. You could feel it coating your thighs and heard how wet it sounded as his fingers fucked into you and god, it just made you hungry for his cock. 
When the last of the shudders had run over your body, you rose up unsteadily and slithered down Nate’s body, mouth covering his in long, lingering kisses. His hands went to work, unhooking and tugging off your bra, sliding off your soaked underwear and tossing the balled up fabric over the edge of the bed. 
Fisting a hand in his hair again, you kissed him harder as your hips sought out his cock, a low groan wrenching from both of you as your slick pussy slid along his hard length. 
Nate rolled his hips and you reached down to align his thick cock, sitting up so you could watch. Your chest heaved as you sank down slowly, the wide head of his cock stretching open your cunt, making room for the rest of him. 
You watched in fascination as your pussy lips spread around him, your cunt swallowing him slowly, that familiar ache still burning in your belly. 
“Fuck Nate,” you moaned, reaching down to touch the part of his shaft not inside you, your gaze dazed as it met his, “You’re so fucking thick,” you told him breathlessly. 
His jaw was tight as he nodded, both his hands were gripping your hips tightly and you knew he was holding himself back from plunging deeper. As you took the last of him in, you moaned and rocked, a shiver running over your spine as his cock pushed deep within you. 
Slowly you rolled your hips, riding him. Nate growled your name desperately, fingers nearly bruising on your skin, but you didn’t care. His cock was filling you so well, and the only thing you wanted was to feel every inch of it as you fucked him. 
Sweat broke out on your brow as you rode him, your pace increasing gradually. Your hands found purchase on Nate’s chest, fingers curling into flesh and metal alike as your hips rolled into his. 
“Fuck, Nate, god, I can’t...” you slurred, unable to form a coherent thought. 
“Yea darling...it good?” he asked, panting as he thrust harder into you. 
Nodding, you moaned and leaned forward to kiss him unevenly, a gasp falling from your lips at the change in angle. “Ahhh! Oh...fuck me from behind,” you gasped out the order, and Nate groaned, eagerly complying. 
Rolling you under him, he slid free from your cunt with a groan, shifting so you could roll to your belly beneath him. His large hands grasped your hips and pulled until you were up on your knees with your forehead resting on your arms. 
Sliding his cock between your pussy lips slowly, Nate groaned at the wetness coating him. Each pass had his wide head nudging against your clit so your hips jutted back, not so silently asking for him to be inside you. 
“Nate, please, I need you inside me,” you gasped. 
“I got you darlin,” he promised, running a soothing hand over your back. His metal fingers curled through your hair and he leaned forward as he thrust into you, sliding deeper than before. 
His lips found the nape of your neck as his hips ground into you, pressing his cock even deeper and a feral cry of pleasure ripped from your throat at the sensation. 
“You want me to fuck you good darlin?” he growled in your ear, hips snapping into yours for a deep, hard thrust that sent a bolt of pleasure up your spine.  
“You want me to make you come so hard you can’t walk?” he demanded breathlessly, fucking you harder, faster. 
You nodded unevenly, “Please Nate, please, please,” you moaned, fingers curling into the sheets as he pounded into you. 
“You gonna scream my name when you come on my cock?” he demanded, squeezing your hip before he reached under you to find your clit and pinch it. Ecstasy so sharp it bordered on pain rolled through you and you wailed as your cunt throbbed around his cock. 
Nate growled and thrust into you harder, still rubbing at your clit. “Yea darlin, you hear that?” he demanded, “your cunt is soaked for me,” he gasped, “all for me.”
“Yes, yes, yes,” you moaned in agreement, shudders still running over your body. You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, could only feel, and it was glorious.
“Fuck, give it to me,” you gasped, arching back as Nate pushed at your back, making you arch even deeper. A high whine slid from your throat as his cock began slamming into your gspot, over and over and over again, each slide of it against your cunt eliciting a moaned expletive. 
“I’m gonna come!” you rasped, words garbled slightly by your dry throat. Nate growled his approval and pinched your clit between two fingers as he thrust into you, his shouts of your name ringing in your ears. 
Your cunt trembled and then spasmed; hot waves of release rushing through you as his cock continued to pound into you. A sharp cry broke in your throat as his cock slammed into you, prolonging and spawning new waves of release until your cunt was to tight it was like a vise around him. 
Nate growled and curled over you, his teeth closing around your neck in a sharp line of pain that blended seamlessly with the pleasure consuming you. His gasp of your name in your ear sent another shiver over your skin, and you moaned as you felt him coming deep inside you. 
His chest was pressed to your back and you could feel his heart pounding as you both collapsed to the bed, his weight more reassuring than crushing. Eventually though he rolled off you and you turned your face toward him, a lazy smile on your lips. 
“Pretty good work for an old man,” you teased. “I definitely can’t walk,” you admitted, still feeling residual shivers run over your body. 
Nate, to your surprise, smiled. It was wide and genuine and he reached out to trace the ridges of your spine, watching the trail of his fingers. “Glad to be of service darlin,” he murmured, eyes wary when they met yours. 
Frowning, you rolled to him, pinning him down against your mattress with your upper body. “Service? Nate, I wanted you because I like you. Because I want you,” you told him firmly. “This wasn’t an itch to scratch or some booty call.”
His brows furrowed at the unfamiliar terminology for a moment before he gazed at you curiously. “Yea?”
Smiling softly, you shook your head as you leaned in to kiss him, soft and slow and sweet. 
“Yea Nathan Summers. So unless you have plans, I’m kinda hoping you’ll stick around,” you murmured against his lips, brow quirking in question. 
Nate smiled slowly, hand tangling in the mess of your hair, the other pressing to the small of your back. 
“Course darlin. Can’t argue with those healin hands of yours,” he murmured before kissing you softly. 
Smirking at him as you pulled back, you lifted a brow, “Healing hands?”
He nodded, a warm light coming to his eyes, “Sure thing. Healin my damaged, broken ass aint easy, but you’re putting the pieces together. Don’t deserve it, that’s for damn sure, but I aint gonna say no, not when it feels this good,” he admitted. 
You stared down at him, wide eyed and emotional, trying not to cry. Leaning in, you kissed him, harder this time. Nate grunted in surprise and kissed you back, holding you close. 
“You aren’t the only one with damaged pieces Nate. You’re doing your own bit of healing here too,” you admitted, kissing him again. 
And maybe that’s what you were for each other; broken and damaged pieces of a puzzle that didn’t make sense to others, but together, you found the right connections, coming into something that resembled a whole picture. 
Smiling against his lips, you kissed him more firmly. 
You liked the picture that was forming. 
I DID IT Y’ALL. I WROTE DIS BITCH. God...it was so hard! And I don’t even know why?!? lol I really hope you enjoyed it, I tried to make it fluffy at the end, and I think it came together okay. Let me know what you think!! Another HumpDay update will be out on Wednesday, since I’m not doing shit on July 4th. 
xoxo
@queenropagrim @sarasxe @bringmetoawonderland @acutecupidity @fabulouskilljoyonpatrol @lil-mixed-chic @thecrazyoneshavetakenover  @thanos-the-rad-titan @egonic @neganrpblog @bananzaa @booklover2929 @silver-stormy @only-a-nerd @nat-1-2 @xxmusic13luverxx @mightiestheroes @the-undateable @nerd-terd @snippychicke @lillypet95 @afluffybunnycalledbucky @lucifers-trash-stash @headoverhiddles
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dabbledrabbleprose · 6 years
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The Fall
Reaper76 Week Day Five - Downfall
Read on AO3!
Overwatch was falling apart. Most of their friends were retired or dead, public opinion was at a record low, and both Jack and Gabe were scheduled to be put on trial for the London Uprising incident and the crimes Blackwatch had committed. Jack thought things couldn't get worse.
He was wrong.
*   *   *   *   *
Where the hell was everyone?
Jack hadn’t seen a single soul ever since his plane touched down six minutes ago. He’d been heading to his office, but when he couldn’t find even one living person in the normally busy Watchpoint: Zurich, he took a detour to roam through hallway after empty hallway, trying to see if he could find someone. Anyone.
Fifteen minutes and not a single soul in a base that employed hundreds of staff.
“Athena,” he growled into an empty room. “Please tell me everyone’s getting ready to throw me a big surprise party.”
The AI didn’t respond.
“Athena, where is everyone?”
Silence.
“This is Strike Commander Jack Morrison, Overwatch Agent 001, Security Code OW0920-76. Computer: Athena, respond!”
“Computer Intelligence Athena is deactivated in present location, Strike Commander,” a synthetic voice responded, far more computerized than Athena’s oddly human-like tone.
“Who…er…what are you?” Jack asked. Something was wrong. Very wrong.
“I am CPU-486322. My personality was automatically activated upon Computer Intelligence Athena’s departure.”
“Where did Athena go?” Jack’s stomach churned with unease and he drew his Beretta, moving slowly through the base like he was clearing a hostile building.
“Computer Intelligence Athena downloaded all processing units into the servers at Watchpoint: Gibraltar at 04:32 this morning.”
“Why?”
“Computer Intelligence Athena was ordered to vacate Watchpoint: Zurich.”
“Where is everyone?”
“All agents and staff were ordered to vacate Watchpoint: Zurich.”
“The building is empty? It’s just you and me?”
“Negative, Strike Commander Morrison.”
Jack froze. “Who else is in the building with us?”
“Employee-2452: Müller. Employee-3211: Favre. Employee-2422: Schmid. Employee-3042: Anderson. Employee-”
The computer continued to drone on, listing employee numbers and surnames. Employees, not Agents. Probably mostly cleaning staff, locals who didn’t get the memo to not come in to work today.
“-2214: Federer. Agent-002: Reyes.”
Gabe.
“Computer, who ordered the building to evacuate?”
“Agent-002: Commander Gabriel Reyes.”
“Where is he?”
“Commander Reyes is currently located on level B2 in Conference Room A.”
Jack sprinted for the elevators. He didn’t put his sidearm away.
“What reason did he give for the evacuation?”
“Unstable radioactive material spill, creating radioactive contamination present through all levels of the building.”
“What is the current radiation level?” The elevators weren’t working. Someone with an intimate knowledge of sabotage had cut the power. Goddammit, Gabe. What was he doing?
“There is no abnormal level of radiation present.”                
Jack cursed and sprinted down the stairs, running out into the second level basement. He found Gabe leaving the conference room.
“Jack,” Gabe said, pulling up short and looking at Jack with wide eyes. He was wearing civilian clothing with both his hands stuffed in the pockets of his large, leather overcoat. “I thought you were in New York.”
“The U.N. decided to postpone my hearing and I was sent back here. I get to spend another week here before they court martial me and lock me away. You know. For hiding all the shit you’ve been doing with Blackwatch? All the shit I promised you weren’t doing? Speaking of ‘what the hell are you doing,’ I love what you’ve done with the place. A bit empty, though,” Jack growled. There was no humor in his voice.
“You need to leave, Jack. Now.” Gabe’s eyes flicked briefly to the gun still in Jack’s hand, before going to move past him, heading for the stairwell.
“Oh, no you fucking don’t,” Jack caught him by the arm. “Not until you tell me what the fuck you’re doing.”
“Jack, don’t do this. Not now,” Gabe shrugged out of his grip and kept walking, kicking the stairwell door open.
“Yes, now!” Jack followed as Gabe stomped up the concrete stairs. “You are going to tell me what’s going on, right here, right now. It’s the least I deserve after hanging myself protecting you from all the bullshit you and Blackwatch were up to! Are still up to, apparently! What secret mission do you have your hit-squad on now?”
“There is no Blackwatch. Not anymore.”
Jack stared at Gabe’s retreating back, but Gabe didn’t so much as look back, hands still firmly in his pockets as he made his way up the stairs.
“What did you say?”
“Blackwatch is finished. I’ve dissolved the team. Did it weeks ago. What few Agents I had left are already in the wind.”
“…Why? Just…why? Why are you doing this?”
“Because Overwatch is finished,” he said, finally turning to look at Jack as he reached the landing of B1. His dark eyes burned with an intensity that took even Jack by surprise.
“Gabe, no. Don’t say that. Overwatch isn’t done. We can still fix this.”
“Oh?” Gabe rounded on him. “Still think we’re heroes, Jack? The whole world has turned against us. People are protesting us in the streets. We’re both up for hearings with the U.N. and will likely be facing jail time. And it’s not like we’re doing any good! Human and omnic relations are only getting worse, international crime is on the rise, Talon is stronger than ever, and half the world’s governments won’t even let us operate in their countries anymore! We’re a bloated corpse of what we used to be, Jack. It’s time for it to end.”
There was a finality in his final statement that put Jack’s hair on end. “…Gabe…what are you doing here?”
“I’m cutting the head off the snake.”
“That didn’t answer my question.”
“You need to leave, Jack.”
“I can’t just leave!”
“You should!” Gabe snapped. “You should get the hell out of here and run while you can! You think they’re just gonna throw you in some prison for a few years and let you back out? Jack, if the U.N. finds you guilty of being involved with any of the shit we did in Blackwatch, they’ll hang you. Hell, they’ll hang you anyway. They’re looking for a scapegoat, and that’s us.”
“Gabriel,” Jack’s voice dropped into a snarl, low and dangerous. “Answer the fucking question. What are you doing here?”
Gabe didn’t answer, and Jack looked at him closely. His shoulders were tight and his posture stiff, a vein ticking in his neck, and Jack finally noticed that Gabe still hadn’t removed his hands from his pockets.
“What do you have, Gabe?” He didn’t remember doing it, but his handgun was aimed at Gabe’s chest.
Gabe’s eyes flicked briefly to the gun pointed at him, then slowly pulled his right hand out of his pocket. In his palm was a smooth, black rectangular box with a short antenna and a bright red button on the end, protected by a clear flip-top cap.
“A detonator?” Jack hissed. “You’re going to blow the headquarters?”
“I’ve got to end it, Jack. Overwatch is done with. We’re doing more harm than good, and it has to end.”
Jack grabbed the front of Gabe’s coat with his free hand.
“There are still people in this building, Gabe! You can’t do this!”
“I have to! We’re poisoned, Jack! We’re being corrupted from inside and out! We’ve got Talon spies in our ranks, Overwatch agents selling secrets to the highest bidder, and if you think Petras is clean, you’ve gone fucking blind. He’s on someone’s payroll, and it’s not one of the Good Guys.”
“What about you, Gabe?” Jack tightened his grip on the coat. “Whose payroll are you on?”
Jack had snarled the question out of anger, but gave pause as Gabe wasn’t immediately forthcoming with an answer. Gabe looked away and Jack’s blood ran cold.
“…Gabe?”
“Walk away, Jack. You don’t want to know,” he said softly.
“No. No, I am sick and tired of you keeping me in the dark while I put my neck on the line for your sake. Who the fuck are you working for, if not me?”
“Jack…”
“Who is paying you to blow up Overwatch headquarters?”
“It needs to happen. Overwatch needs to die.”
“Gabriel.”
Jack jerked Gabe closer, the Beretta pressing into his chest, and he finally looked Jack dead in the eye.
“…Talon.”
Jack let him go in shock and took a half step backward.
“No…no…Gabe, no…”
“I’m not with them, Jack! This is the right thing to do!”
“How can you say that? After all that’s happened. Everything they’ve done. Everything we’ve been through together. After Gerard. After Ana. You…you traitor!” Jack was aiming with both hands now, shifting into an offensive stance, though the pistol shook in his hands.
“No! No, I…” Gabe made a growl of frustration and held the detonator tighter. “Dammit, Jack! Talon’s got its claws so deep in Overwatch that we’ll never break free! This is infiltration, damn you! This is what I do! Talon is spread too far and rooted too deep! Our best chance to take them down is from the inside!”
“What, like how you’re taking us down? Shit, Gabe! Are you even hearing yourself? You’re not infiltrating Talon, you’re being played by Talon! You’re being paid by a terrorist organization to blow up our headquarters and all the innocent people still in it! There are still civilians upstairs! Civilians!”
“It has to happen. I didn’t want you involved.”
“Well, too late. I’m involved now. Hand over the detonator.”
“I can’t do that, Jack.”
“Give it to me!”
Gabe flicked the clear cap off the detonator’s button and Jack felt a chill run through him. Gabe wouldn’t do it, would he? They were both still in the building. The stairwell was walled by solid concrete, but would that really be enough to protect them?
“No,” Gabe’s voice was even, and there was a conviction in his voice that froze Jack’s soul.
“Drop it,” Jack said. He aimed at Gabe’s heart, the heart that once belonged to him, and his hands no longer shook. “Don’t make me do this, Gabe. Please.”
“I don’t ask forgiveness. But I’m sorry.”
Reyes pressed the button. Morrison pulled the trigger. Neither could say who acted first.
Two hearts cracked down the middle as the base crumbled around them, and hours later, two broken men crawled from the rubble, alone, leaving their lives behind in the ruins of Overwatch.
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dailyfeartwdgifs · 7 years
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Fear the Walking Dead’ season 3 episode 12: “Brother’s Keeper” Recap (Spoilers)
The end of the world can really make you crazy sometimes.
Troy Otto (Daniel Sharman) was never well adjusted, but in “Brother’s Keeper” (written by Wes Brown, directed by Alrick Riley), he goes positively careening off the rails, and puts in motion a nightmare scenario that may well destroy the Broke Jaw Ranch.
After his exile, Troy wanders the abandoned scrub-brush hillside, eating rattlesnakes and scavenging the abandoned outposts of the Nation (all of whom are now on the ranch he used to call home). He’s ready to end it all. He’s got one bullet left in his Beretta, and climbs up to the death seat, intent upon using it. A sound draws his attention away from suicide.
Back on the ranch, matters are getting worse. The drought has forced the ranchers to slaughter their cattle. The next steps don’t need to be explained. Jake Otto is despondent. This ranch was his legacy, and his future. Now it’s on the verge of ruin (and will soon be much closer to that verge), and even if they survive, it’s not his anymore. It belongs to the Nation. He’s ready to go, tries to convince Alicia to leave with him, to ride out the apocalypse in some cabin in the hills he knows about.
Troy sneaks back onto the ranch, to warn Nick about something that’s coming, something “Biblical.” Is he insane? He talks like he is, and he was always pretty unhinged. On the other hand, he’s clearly formulated a plan, and is carrying it out. He is going to rain vengeance on his antagonists – even his own brother. Yeah, okay, he’s insane.
So, yes, of course, a massive desert horde of infected overruns the ranch, sending the terrified survivors into the haven of the pantry. Jake and Alicia have a painful falling out, and Madison and Walker are nowhere to be seen.
What really stood out in this episode is that it ended up falling back on some tropes from its elder sibling. This was inevitable, really. Both “Fear the Walking Dead” and “The Walking Dead” are about the same zombie apocalypse, and eventually survivors are going to come across similar challenges and learn similar lessons. Thankfully, the writers twisted things just enough to keep them fresh. Here are three that stood out to us:
Lesson 1: If you’re thinking about killing somebody because they may represent a threat, kill them. Nothing good will come from showing mercy.
Walker wanted to kill Troy. Jake wanted to kill Troy. Madison should have killed Troy. None did, and now a massive herd has overrun the ranch, which Troy insanely has been leading Pied Piper-like with a spare grenade launcher he found. Then, even after all that, Nick still wants to talk reason for some misguided reason. Mistake. The younger Otto brother was always a sociopathic terror, but desert-driven mad-Troy is even more dangerous (though, well, we have to admit, kind of fun to watch). Actually, this one plays out pretty much like it always does. The lesson is pretty clear: they all should have killed Troy when they had the chance.
Lesson 2: When possible, amputate. If you act quickly, you can save somebody from the zombie virus.
Jake gets bitten on the arm, a very luck place to get bitten in the zombie apocalypse if you’ve got a companion with a machete and a quick mind. Nick does the right thing, performing an emergency amputation. We’ve seen this stunt before, and it’s worked. So it’s hard to get very invested in it this time. Only, it ends up not working. Jake is nowhere near the ranch, nowhere near any kind of medical supplies. He bleeds out and dies long before they can get back.
Lesson 3: Herds are dangerous.
There hasn’t been a massive herd like this yet – on this show. There have been a number of them on the other show, though, and it’s impossible to get very overwhelmed if you’ve seen all those other herds. But again, there are enough fresh elements to this one that its death-rattling corpses feel new enough. The dust cloud they kick up is a sight. The way the camera lingers on the survivors while they listen to the dead on the other side of the RVs creates an ominous tension. Those hideous groans are more frightening than the rotting bodies themselves.
This is also possibly the largest herd we’ve seen. One overhead shot of them leaves the impression that there are thousands. The size is indeed Biblical, like Troy said. The hastily executed plan to try and direct them with the RVs isn’t bad, given the time constraints, but was never going to work. Eventually, the ranchers are left to fight it out, and retreat into the pantry. (one of the best small details is Crazy Dog Lee’s leather wristband, which sheathes two knives. He later uses them with considerable skill.)
At the end, the terrified survivors are huddled in the pantry, the sounds of the undead howling and banging on the other side of the metal doors. Do not open. Dead outside.
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fireontherun · 7 years
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Saving Grace
Gabe: Reclaiming my fallen Beretta, I’m on her heels like some loyal puppy. “Come again? Jul…i…ahohshit.” I don’t even make it three more steps before I fall to a knee, feeling doped beyond belief. I try to shake it off. I try to reach her, but my hand goes for my gun and it’s lights out. “Hun-GABRIEL!” I shout, coming to in the back of a government-issue Suburban, windows blacked out. Of course. “Welcome back, Mr. Nash.” I look around for Julia, my eyes narrowing into a glare. “She’s fine. She’ll be arriving in more /secure/ transportation, Mr. Nash.” Fortunately for the suit next to me, my arms are flex-cuffed behind my back. “You’re quite the catch. Former Sergeant Nash of the 75th Ranger Regiment. Wanted on five counts of aggravated homicide, violation of the Geneva Convention, i.e. rules of engagement; need I go on? You’re looking at, what? Consecutive life sentences? If not a needle…” He closes the file, giving me a smug once over. I’m giving his Suburban a once over, looking for weaknesses. “The United Stares Government would like to thank you for your service, son. Consider this your dismissal.” Of all charges? Well I’ll be goddamned. “So that’s that? And Julia?” He adjusts his horn-rimmed glasses. “Government property returned to the rightful hands. Juliet-6 won’t be going anywhere for a /long/ time.” I get a lump in my throat. “You see now; that’s unfortunate.” And before he can even shit himself, I’m out of the cuffs, with his own sidearm pushed into his temple. “They keep driving or my finger here slips. Take me to her!”
Julia: {My last image of Jupiter replaying in my drug induced dreams, with a groan but feeling really hung over. Why can’t I move?} Jupiter, you’re heavy. {Mumbling as I blink my eyes open, my heart sinking immediately and my panic setting in. I know these walls. Or at least walls like these. Looking down at my body only confirms what I knew would be in place. Special government-issue fire proof restraints designed just for me, and an intravenous line poking in my arm. The bag would be secured somewhere behind the wall pumping a cocktail of whatever they wanted it to. I knew there were cameras somewhere, and that they were watching. They always watched me. All those years spent in a lab, I never got a second of privacy. I hoped they let Jupiter go, but since I knew the kind of monsters they were, I knew better than to think I they had. Forcing myself to not relive how his kisses felt or especially that last gentle one on my temple. I couldn’t ruminate. The only way I’d survive is by shutting completely down. Taking a deep breath as I did just that. My face growing expressionless as I waited for the monsters to begin their tortuous games. I only had to wait minutes before a man I hadn’t seen before walked in. The way he studied me as if I was a rare specimen made my insides crawl. “Juliet-6. We have been looking for you for quite some time now. Welcome home.” I continued staring at him with absent eyes as he continued. “We have several new protocols that we have come up with, you’ll be starting the first, well, right about now.” As soon as he finished his sentence, his mouth twisted into a sadistic smirk and I what felt like hell if it was frozen, worked it’s way through the i.v. in my arm. I locked my jaw holding in the scream that wanted to come, it was just that excruciatingly painful but I couldn’t give them the satisfaction. Fucking animals.}
Gabe: I might get inside the level 5 security death house, but getting us out? That’s a one-way ticket, my friend. I hadn’t thought this through. Like, at all. I’ll blame the nice cocktail of stabilizers, tranqs, and amphetamines running through my veins on the lack of foresight. “Keep walking if you wanna live.” I use Glasses here as my human shield for mowing down anyone who reaches or gets in my way. Wait–Janitor. “Not your day to die, man! Go on! Get outta here!” One last door. “Open it!” A punch to the kidney should persuade him. “NOW! Fuck it!” I take his key card and do it myself. “Jules?” The sight of her strapped to a table pisses me the fuck off, raising the ire in me to epic proportions. The fucktard standing over her gets a slug in the brain, and Glasses gets kicked to the wall. “Don’t. Move! DO NOT MOVE! Julia? Julia!” I find the release for her straps. My peripheral doesn’t move from asshat as I start pulling cords, tubes, and–BANG! Funny. That sounded like a gunshot. But Glasses is over…and I didn’t leave anybody but “The janitor?” BANG! BANG! I throw myself over Julia, protecting her. It doesn’t register that I’ve been hit twice until my knees give out. At least the first shot missed. “Not. Like. This…” And at least I’m taking the fucking janitor with me. I lay in a pool of my own blood, starting to choke on my own blood. “Jules. Go. Run. Baby g–”
Julia: {The protocol they gave me was one hellacious torture game. It left me weak, disoriented, and came so very close to making me that level of compliant they had always wanted. I wanted to beg for mercy, it hurt so bad. At full strength I would have already incinerated this place, no quarter for anyone here. That anyone could put another human being through such hell…they deserved to be wiped off the face of the earth. I hear the door crash open but I’m paralyzed. My eyes catch visions of Jupiter in the edges of my vision, but as heavy as this stupor is, I think I’m dreaming. It isn’t until I hear the gunshots, and feel hands freeing me, that I actually believe it’s real. My limbs don’t want to cooperate, and what I wouldn’t give to be able to disappear to safety instantly with Jupiter. My brain feels sluggish as I get off that hated table, and that’s when the nightmare goes from bad to worse. I am powerless, able to do nothing but watch as Jupiter gets shot. Fuck me, why would he cover me like that?! Why did he even come for me? No one has ever, /ever/ done anything for me unless it was part of an end game strategy. My hand gently strokes his face as I try against all hope to call forth any trickle of a flame. Removal could happen later, stopping the blood flow was critical now. I feel water in my eyes as it hits me the possibility that he just willingly walked into his death for me.} I’m not taking that debt, Jupiter. {I’m muttering under my breath, and I am feeling enraged…the tiniest spark appearing at the end of my fingertip. Yes! I siphon every last bit of whatever reservoir that I can concentrating on one focused flame through my palm, I lay over the gushing bullet holes on his chest, stopping the flow instantly. I’m so grateful he is unconscious, I have no idea how he would react if he knew about my fires. And now was just not a good place to have that conversation. Concentrate, Jul. Stopped bleeding out? Check. Evac? In progress. Sighing as I gauged how heavy he was. If it wasn’t for adrenaline…out the door, down the hallway, then I hit a roadblock. And by roadblock I mean, guard with a needle’s worth of whatever they were putting into my iv. He thought he could shoot me up and neutralize, in his arrogant stupidity he missed and plunged that syringe full of my hated poison into Jupiter instead. I dropped him on the ground, turning on the guard in a second. And by turning on, I mean, I lit him up like the Fourth of July. He was a pile of screaming smoldering ash in less than a minute flat. I had to stand away from Jupiter until I could safely touch him again. That was the bad part of turning into fire, body temp went high, collateral damage was possible. I dragged Jupiter out of the building, smashing security panels along my way until I finally reached the outside. If I was alone, this place would not exist anymore, but I wouldn’t risk the time it would take for it’s destruction when every minute would likely end up counting for him. Evac? Check. Rolling down the garage style door down behind us, a tub of first aid in the trenches type supplies on the floor next to Jupiter. He can’t be dead. That? Can’t happen. I’m slicing clothes open, cleaning off blood, digging out bullets, stitching closed using every trick I know from my medical book of knowledge and the help of my flame, trying desperately to save him. I work until my eyes start seeing double, tears pooling at the creases. I scream in frustration, hitting a fist hard against his chest. Saving Jupiter? Looks like I failed. I lay down next to him on the ground. My hands still bloody, all that adrenaline spent and I’m crashing hard. My memories of him very much alive, those hours spent together before I got captured, those kisses, that intimacy that was shared as we took pleasure from each other’s bodies…He was full of life, and strength…and now? It was my fault he was lying dead here on the floor.} I’m sorry, Jupiter. I’m…so sorry.
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banditthewriter · 5 years
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These Scars Three - Billy Russo
Prompt: Hello Bandit! 💜 💜 just wanted to ask if there is any chance for part 3 of These Scars? Maybe with Reader being pregnant and Billy being worried that his child might be scared because of scars Prompter: Anonymous
Here you go darling! Hope you like it! Sorry it has taken me so long to get to this. 
Tags are at the bottom. Let me know if you would like to be added to one of my tag lists! *gif is mine* Enjoy!
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***** The pregnancy test sat on the bathroom counter. The little pink lines were obvious from where you were perched on the edge of the tub. Pregnant. You were pregnant. There was a child growing inside you. A tiny human. Oh God, you were going to have to tell Billy. That thought brought you both joy and a little apprehension. Joy because you couldn't wait to have a family with the man you loved. Apprehension because, well. Billy hadn't had the best childhood. Of course when he proposed, the two of you had a long talk about having a family. You wanted kids and Billy? Well Billy hadn't been as gung-ho about the idea but he told you that he would love any child the two of you had together. It was his idea for the two of you to stop using protection. You hadn't been willing to suggest it yet, so soon after the wedding and things with Homeland calming down, but he didn't feel the same apparently. "Pretty sure you can't make a baby while using condoms," he had said with a grin in line at the grocery store when you had mentioned that you should pick some up. You had been shocked silent and happier than you could ever imagine being. And in the months since then, neither of you had really talked about the implications of it. Billy had cleaned some of his junk out of three spare room. Almost as if making it ready to become a nursery. And now here you were. After a few weeks of feeling odd and a missed period, it was as clear as that test on the counter. Pregnant. You looked at your phone which you had used as a timer and tapped your fingers a bit as you thought about the best way to tell Billy. This was big news. ------ Dinner was almost ready. You finished setting the table just as Billy walked in. "Smells delicious," he remarked as he moved in, stealing a kiss as he undid his suit coat. "Thought tonight was our night for ordering in?" "Wanted to change things up," you said with a grin as you carried your plates into the dining room. Once both of you were seated, you turned down Billy's offer of wine or a beer in order to stick with water. If he thought that was strange, he didn't remark. As he started to sit, you went to work. "Ah crap, I left something in the oven. Can you go and grab that for me?" He gave you a brief nod before he slipped out of the room. You waited for a moment until you heard the oven door creak. There was another moment of silence before the oven shut once more. "Uh, babe?" You smiled as you uncovered the rolls on the table. When he came in holding the platter that was in the oven, you could barely cover your smile as he looked at you. "Babe?" It was time. "What, you didn't know I had a bun in the oven?" For a brief moment, Billy simply stared at you in confusion. Just when you were thinking you might have to dumb it down for him, you watched as his eyes started to widen. "You're pregnant." It wasn't a question, but you smiled and nodded anyways. Billy was next to you in an instant, lifting you out of the chair and embracing you tightly. He pulled back and let his hand drop down to rest on your belly for a moment before he shook his head. "We're going to be parents." You covered his hand with yours and gave him a blinding smile. "We're going to be great parents." ------ The bed was empty beside you. You reached up and felt the pillow before you sat up and looked at the clock. It had been a long time since you had woken up without Billy beside you at any time of night. With a frown, you got out of bed and pulled on your robe. As you tied it closed over your swollen belly, you pushed the bedroom door open. There was a glow from the living room and you made your way that direction slowly. Sitting on the couch watching infomercials, Billy's head tilted as he heard you enter the room. "Couldn't sleep?" You settled onto the couch next to him. He tugged you closer to him, his hand hesitating before it moved to rest against your stomach. You'd noticed that hesitation before in some of his touches, but you hadn't thought much of it. This time it struck you as something you might want to worry about. "Billy? What's going on?" With your hand covering his, you looked up and met his eyes. His terrified eyes. "I had a dream," he began, swallowing around the words uncomfortably at first. "The baby came out with my scars." It obviously couldn't happen, but you knew better than to point that out. Billy wasn't worried that his scars were somehow genetic; he was worried how the child would react to the scars. That idea was just as insane to you, but you would never make Billy feel worse about his insecurities. The truth was that you often forgot that you'd ever known Billy without the scars. He was still the most attractive man you'd ever encountered. He was amazing and funny and so damn intelligent that it scared you sometimes. There was so much more to him than the scars that you often forgot that they were there. You knew that it wasn't that easy for Billy. He was a lot better than when he'd first gotten scarred, but there were still times when he froze. People stared sometimes, whispered behind his back. And sometimes kids would stare openly or even point the scars out. "Babe," you said as you turned into his embrace as much as your stomach would allow, your hands moving to cup his cheeks, "talk to me." He covered your hands on his face for a moment before he titled his head forward. His forehead pressed against yours, he sighed. "I have to face the idea that I might not be a good father every day and that's bad enough. I know that I have you and that you won't let me be a bad father so I'm getting better with that. But then I remember a woman brought her kid to the office and he cried when he saw me." It boggled your mind that he would even think that that was possible, but you knew that he wasn't thinking logically. Our fears are rarely based in logic. "Yeah, kids might be scared or startled when they first see you, but that's just because they aren't used to it. Our child is going to see you every day. They won't even know that it isn't natural," you said as you covered his scarred cheek once more, smoothing your fingers over the jagged scars. Billy nodded before he pulled back, his hand pressed against yours to keep it trapped against his cheek. "I know you're right," he said softly, his eyes straying down to your stomach. "Sometimes it gets so loud in my head that I can't hear anything else." You leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, smiling when he returned it easily. "Let me know when it gets loud and I'll drown them out." You felt a movement in your stomach. With a smile, you grabbed his hand and pressed it where the movement was. His eyes widened at the feeling like it usually did. The kid would settle down and then start up again, moving and kicking. You were approaching your due date and the baby was running out of room in there. You smiled at Billy as he closed his eyes to focus on the feeling. "Come back to bed," you said softly, tugging his hand a bit. He shook his head, moving so that he could pull you into his chest and keep his hand on your stomach at the same time. "Let's stay here for a little while longer," he whispered into your hair. You placed a kiss to his cheek and snuggled in. There was nowhere else you'd rather be.
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banditthewriter · 6 years
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Bad Things Happen Bingo - Take Me Instead
Take Me Instead requested by @starless-skyox with Billy Russo for the @badthingshappenbingo
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Enjoy!
***** The rain was coming down hard now. You could barely see out of the tiny window. Of course Billy had told you not to go near the window. "We are in hiding but that doesn't mean we're hidden," he reminded you before he left to get some more necessities. He had been gone almost an hour. Ordinarily you would have assumed the worse, but with the weather the way it was, he was probably driving slower to be safe. Just as the thought came to you, you heard a creak of the floorboards outside the door. Finally, you thought as you turned to face the door. You barely got the word out when the door was kicked inward. You immediately jumped back. The gun Billy had left was on the other side of the room and you knew you wouldn't make it. Men were already pointing guns at you. You raised your hands hesitantly, eyes moving over them until you saw a familiar face. "You think Billy will go easy on you if you hurt me? You'll be signing your death warrant." "I'm shaking in my boots," the leader said as he moved forward. He came up to you and smiled, striking you in the face. "That's for blowing up my car. It was one of a kind." "Still is," you said as you grimaced through the pain. "First car of it's kind to get blown up. Congratulations." His hand darted out and went around your throat, holding you that way until you were gasping for air. Then he pushed you towards his men. "Hold her. I don't know when Russo will be back." "I can answer that," came Billy's voice from the door. He had a gun in each hand, aimed into the room. When he saw you, his eyes narrowed and he pointed one of the guns directly at the leader. "You're more of an idiot than I gave you credit for." "You better hope you're able to kill us all before we kill her," he said and immediately you had multiple guns pointed at you. "She won't be so pretty with bullet holes." Billy froze and then held his hands up, the guns swinging from his pointer fingers. One of the men went up and took them from him, patting him down to check for any other weapons. "He's clear," the guy said as he sat back up. He used the back of the weapon to crack against Billy's temple so that he dropped to his knees. The one closest to you grabbed your wrists and started to wrap a rope around them. "Don't," Billy said with grimace, blood dripping from the wound on his temple. "Take me. Leave her out of this," he said ferociously as he struggled against the one that was now holding him down. "That was my favorite car," the leader said in a mocking tone before he gestured for his men to start leading you away. "You could try to come for her, but I think you'll be in too much pain." The guy that was behind him cracked his knuckles and you knew that Billy was going to be faced with fighting him. Billy was good, quick on his feet, but he worked better with his knife. You thought about that the gun that was on the table and hoped that Billy could get to it in time. Billy met your eyes as the men dragged you through the door, nodding to you calmly. "I'll see you soon," he promised. You gave him a quick nod, a sad smile, and then the door was shut. Now you could only hope he was right.
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