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siilvan · 4 months

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Desideria – Prologue

Pairing: Yuri Volkov/Mylène "Petra" Scholten de Ridder

Summary: Strange circumstances and common enemies brings an unlikely pair together.

Genre: General, angst, light fluff, fem!oc

Warnings: Semi-proofread, cursing, canon-typical violence, allusions to trauma and guilt, post-MWIII, Soap’s alive rahhhhhh!!!, Yuri's literally mentioned once in this chapter I swear he'll be in the next one lol

Word Count: 2.4k

Note: I've wanted to write this story for a year now, but I've been too scared to do it. It's pure self indulgence that I think only a tiny handful of people will even read but, nonetheless, I'm posting it. Also, I'm stating this outright: OG Yuri had the superior look. That's the face I always imagine on him, even in the reboot lmao

Very special thanks to my beloveds @sofasoap, @nrdmssgs, and @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot, who gave me the encouragement and support I needed to finally start this series <3

The fluorescent lights overhead provide no comfort to the woman pacing in the corridor, the incessant buzzing the only sound accompanying the soft clacking of the heels of her boots against the tile floor. She wrings her hands, sore from hours of repeating the same motions in an attempt to provide herself some relief from the thoughts plaguing her.

Running through the same scenario. The same five minutes, over and over again.

"Still here?" The familiar deep timbre of her teammate's voice startles her out of her thoughts, drawing her gaze to the man standing further down the hall.

"Of course." Mylène replies, the fatigue evident in her soft-spoken tone. She stands still as he approaches, stopping a few feet away.

"You been here all night?" Simon asks, stuffing one of his hands in his hoodie pocket and scratching at his cheek through the dark surgical mask obscuring the lower half of his face.

She hums, her gaze flitting to her feet as she absentmindedly toes at a speck of dirt on the otherwise pristine floor. "Yeah, got in at around nine. I was bouncing between rooms for a few hours, but I didn't want to risk waking them up, so I've been in the hall since..." She lifts her hand to glance at the watch on her wrist. "One, maybe one-thirty."

"Fucks sake, it's ten o' clock." He huffs in disbelief. "Assuming you haven't ate or drank anything but coffee. C'mon, let's go down to the cafeteria." He says, motioning with his head for her to follow him.

"I don't want to leave them, what if they need—"

"They’re in medically-induced comas, Leni. They're not waking up in the thirty minutes we'll be gone." He states, matter-of-fact.

Those five minutes flash through her mind again. And again. And again. Had she done enough? Was she quick enough? If she prioritized reaching her teammates in distress instead of securing a safe route for herself and her squad, would things have gone differently?

How much of a difference can thirty seconds make?

"Did I do enough?" Mylène mutters, her voice wavering.

She wasn't one easily shaken – she can remember every single moment she's ever been paralyzed with fear, ever been racked and weighed down with doubt and worry, ever hesitated and had to pay the price for it. She could count those moments on one hand. This was easily one of the worst.

"You saved their lives." Simon comments, the shift in his stance showing his discomfort at even acknowledging they needed to be saved. "Y'had Johnny and Mini's mum crying in your arms thanking you for saving her kids. Don't think you have any reason to doubt yourself."

A heavy breath escapes her, dissipating into the air between them.

"Take this to hell with you, captain." The warning faintly plays through the petra's radio, echoing through her teammates radios as they make their way through the tunnels. She was constantly fighting the urge to break out into a dead sprint, the sounds of gunfire only adding to the anxiety buzzing underneath her skin.

"Never bury your enemies alive."

She could tell they were getting close, the commotion reaching her ears unfiltered. With Ghost and Gaz hurrying alongside her, she knew they could clear a path through the Konni soldiers guarding the area without issue, but it was the battle raging beyond them that had the trio moving faster with each step.

After rounding a corner, everything suddenly came into view. Price, lying on the ground half-concussed, with Mini lying flat on her back some paces away. Soap was on a knee, clutching the arm of the man they were sent here to hunt down in the first place.

The man who seemed to haunt her every move, forcing her to make space for him in the back of her mind. The one responsible for her being dragged back into the field after she thought she was done, the one behind so much of the destruction she was always running to clean up. The one with a gun pointed at Soap's temple, his finger comfortably resting on the trigger.

'There's no time to hesitate.' Petra lifts her sidearm, her rifle's magazine having run empty with no time to reload on the way, and aims towards him.

It was like everything slowed, her heart erratically beating against her ribcage as the blood continues to rush to her ears. Her sightline narrows, focused only on Makarov as she lines up the shot. What felt like half a minute was, in reality, a mere breath before she pulls the trigger in a reckless move that she would have scolded anyone else for attempting.

The single bullet that she fires whizzes past her allies, missing the intended target – his skull – and burying itself in the hand wrapped around his pistol.

The world caught back up to speed as Makarov suddenly withdraws with a low cry, a mixture of shock and pain. Soap falls back on the ground alongside the pistol that previously hovered just above his skin, the commander gripping his hand tight as he instinctively backs away from the group.

The pair lock eyes in the second it takes for his reinforcements to arrive, dark bistre meeting mismatched watercolors in a fleeting glance before it was broken by a new wave of gunfire as Ghost, Gaz, and a semi-recovered Price fire on the soldiers.

Makarov slips away on a train coming through, leaving the group to pick up the pieces of the mission-gone-wrong after dispatching the rest of the enemies.

"Captain, we need to do this together!" Gaz was kneeling in front of the dirty bomb, trying to hurry Price, still sluggish, over to help him disarm it.

Petra’s attention flits between the pair of siblings on the ground, her body running on pure muscle memory as she drops down next to Soap. "I'm gonna need your help here, Ghost!" She slings her bag onto the ground next to her, barely sparing the masked man a look as she directs him to go to the younger MacTavish.

"I don't have any supplies—" He tries to protest, kneeling down next to the barely-conscious Mini.

"And I don't have two bodies to take care of them both," She rebuts, already in the process of tearing off Soap's gear so she could start to patch up his several wounds. "Just apply pressure on the worst of it and try to keep her awake."

Soap's eyes crack open, seas of blue staring up at her. He opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but a ragged breath is all that falls from his parted lips when he tries to force the words out.

"It's okay, Johnny," She shushes him, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder when he tries to shift. "Save your strength, I've got it handled from here." She adds. Petra wasn't certain if she was trying to comfort soap or herself.

The reassurance settles him enough that she can work, the small bag of supplies that she could afford to bring along proving to be barely enough to buy him more time. Nonetheless, she pulls back after staunching the bleeding and sends a look towards Price and Gaz.

"I've done all I can do." She states, pursing her lips as she shifts her focus to her other teammate-in-need.

"I'll send for medics. Ghost, Gaz, get him back up to street level. I'll stay here with the girls." Price nods towards the pair, who leap into action before he even finishes giving the command.

Petra kneels down next to the younger woman, her heart clenching at her pained expression. She considers Mini a sister as much as she considers Soap a brother – Soap could take a bullet better than his sister could, though, and Mini had managed to get herself shot even more than he did.

"I'm here, sweetheart." She murmurs, her usually-steady hands shaking as she carefully strips off Mini's gear.

"Johnny..." She gasps, the tears gathered at her waterline streaking down her cheeks after she squeezed her hazy eyes shut. "Is he..." She trails off with a ragged whimper.

"He'll be okay, let's just worry about you for right now." Petra speaks in a low tone, one she usually reserves for the younger patients she comes across, or for those unfortunate enough to spend their last moments in her arms. "We're gonna get you out of here, too. Just stay awake for me, all right?"

Mini gives a small nod, her bottom lip drawn tight between her teeth as the older woman tries to stabilize her. Price silently stands over the pair like a sentinel, nearly forgetting his own wounds for the sake of staying alert enough to keep them safe.

Mylène's hands clench into tight fists at her sides. Even after scrubbing them until her skin turned an angry red and ached, she could feel their blood staining her hands. Sticky, viscous, a deep scarlet standing out against pale flesh. Her stomach churns at the thought of it, bile rising in her throat as she recalls the way the captain wiped her hands clean on the helicopter when she was sitting frozen and staring at them.

Begrudgingly, she follows Simon to the quiet cafeteria. Her mind is anywhere but the present, even as he gently nudges her to sit at one of the empty tables and mutters something about fetching her something to eat.

It was as if everything happened too slowly and too quickly at the same time. Konni starting their barrage of attacks against Urzikstan and their allies, Makarov breaking out of prison, the constant sprint to try and get ahead of him, casualty after casualty lining the streets and threatening to pin her to the bloodstained asphalt alongside them. The task force had few people they could trust and even fewer who could support them; after Price's hasty execution of General Shepherd, albeit well deserved and long overdue, they had burned several of their bridges, too.

She rests her elbows on the table, her head dropping to rest in her palms. A throbbing pain ebbs and flows behind her eyes, blossoming from her temples and wrapping all the way around her skull.

Three weeks since they failed to kill Makarov in london. Three weeks since Johnny and Freya were placed in the intensive care unit. Three weeks since she's managed to get more than a few hours of restless sleep at night.

When would it be enough?

"The old man said he talked to Laswell recently." Simon comments as he sets a small tray down in front of her.

"Give any details on what they talked about?" Mylène hums, quietly thanking him after lifting her head up again. Her stomach growls, reminding her of how long it's been since she consumed anything but crappy black coffee.

He sits across from her with his own cup cradled between his calloused hands, his filled with the aforementioned crappy coffee while hers is filled with water – he gives her a very pointed look when she cocks a brow at it, a silent warning that they both knew he couldn't hope to enforce. Still, she concedes with a tight-lipped smile.

"Given how we're two down at the moment," He mutters after lowering his mask to take a long drink, a deep sigh escaping him. "He and Laswell are thinkin' of splitting us up, trying to cover more fronts."

"I'd think they'd be turning to the few allies we've still got." She comments through a mouthful of sandwich. "They may be somewhat restricted in their movements, but we've got Farah's forces and the Vaqueros on our side. Could probably call in some favors with Chimera, too." She comments, pointing her sandwich at Simon as she blinks at him.

"Don't point that at me." He bluntly states in mock offense, his eyes creased at the edges and giving away the shit-eating grin he was wearing under his mask. "But, that's what they were plannin' anyway. splitting us up to put us with allies."

"Who are they considering?" She asks, lowering her food.

"It's tentative, but I think Price said something about putting me and Riot with the Vaqueros, sending Gaz and himself to work with Farah and Alex, and letting Laswell handle your assignment." He says slowly, with a nonchalant shrug.

Mylène's forehead creases as her brows knit together. "Why the ambiguity with me specifically?"

"My guess? She's wanting to put you on something special." He sits back in his seat. "Like how she stole you for meeting that contact in Verdansk." He adds.

"That'd mean working with Nikolai again." She mirrors him, tapping her short nails against the tabletop. "Can't imagine what she'd be sending me after other than Makarov’s chemical weapons operations, but I don't see how Nik could help with those outside of transport."

"What about that contact? Didn't you say he gave you some... files or whatever, related to Barkov's research?" Simon vaguely waves with his hand, only half-remembering the story she told the team after Laswell dragged her to Arklov Base.

"Colonel Volkov, right..." Mylène clears her throat and reaches for her water. "He might provide useful, but just the information he provided at Arklov posed a major threat to himself. What are the chances of him taking that risk again?" She ponders out loud, chuckling softly.

Simon huffs. "Think anyone with their sanity intact would be willing to take the risk after what Makarov's done with that research."

"You've got me there." She chirps, circling the rim of her cup with her index finger. "I'll give her a call, see if i can't find out more details myself." She murmurs with an affirmative nod.

"No need, Price said she's coming to meet with you in about an hour or so."

"Godverdomme— you should have started with that, Simon!" She grumbles, pushing back from the table and nearly knocking her chair over in her haste.

At least a special assignment would give her something to distract herself with. She just needed to make herself useful – Johnny and Freya were doing their jobs by hanging in there, now it was time for Mylène to do her part.

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g0giro · 2 months

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PLEASE READ THIS!!! NEOPENTANE5 TOLD ME TO KILL MYSELF AFTER I TALKED ABOUT THAT SHE SUPPORTED RAPE TO MY FRIEND

Someone sent this to me, and I have something to say about it. Don't buy what she said on her Twitter, I explained every single detail below.

I'm adding these pictures as well since these tweets were basically her referring to me and saying a lot of bad things about me. I've heard this meant "I wish you go kill yourself", "You don't deserve any friends" and so on, so I decided to translate it. She deleted it, and it's gone by now, but I could get a screenshot of her saying it.

TL;DR: I cut neopentane5 off and blocked her last year, I've been struggling because of severe depression since last year and she was the main reason who caused it, I vented about how I felt and what I couldn't understand her to my friend, and somehow it ended up with Neopentane5 seeing my DM with my friend and she self attacked me on her Twitter because of the DM, revealing my personal information and writing on her Twitter that I need to kill myself.

Below this is about what exactly happened and how Neoepentane5 tried to justify her actions. I explained it with all the proof that she was wrong and spreading misinformation, including some NSFW pictures she sent.

I don't know where to start, but let me talk about what happened last year between me and her.

The first reason I cut her off :

A few months ago, a guitarist of my favorite band passed away, so I was really shocked and sad, and I wanted to talk about it to someone and get comforted. There was a discord server where I, Neopentane5, and some other people were so I went there and talked about it. One of them asked me about it, but Neopentane5 just said nothing but sent a nsfw pic right below my text, completely ignoring me.

It was really rude and disrespectful, not just because the guitarist was my favorite but it was really weird and absurd of her to send a nsfw pic when she heard that someone died. Because of this, I was feeling depressed, so I tried not to pay attention to the server and her. I muted the notifications and tried to do something else like watching movies, playing games, or going out and so on because I thought it would become better if I could ignore this.

But she kept sending a bunch of nsfw pictures like these pictures without my consent and I was really overwhelmed and mad because of it.

This is the uncensored version of the screenshots.

The second reason why I cut her off:

Around last Halloween, I posted this to do inbox trick or treating. People who wanted to join it left likes there, and everyone who left likes on that post answered back, but Neopentane5 was the only one who didn't do anything even though she left her like. I thought she might be busy, and I asked her why she hadn't answered. She said she read it and wanted to draw something for it and would post it that night, but I didn't really mind if she wanted to draw something or not, because I was content with communicating with people by sending some candy pics and it was wholesome.

She really seemed to draw one for it, and I didn't want to let her down by saying I didn't really need her drawing or so, so I gave her enough time and she didn't post anything about it even two weeks had passed. I was really getting upset and depressed because it felt like I was worthless and not worth being remembered or cared about. I stopped texting her and everyone back then because of my depression.

Then she suddenly texted me first unusually and it was like this.

She just wanted to use me for translating that picture when she clearly knew that I didn't like the reboot stuff and didn't want to see it at all. She could've just googled it and used a translator, but she still decided to ask me to translate it for her. I had been feeling really down that time, and I didn't want to text back, but I also didn't want to make her feel bad so I just joked like I was all good and translated it for her. I felt I was worthless than the google translate and she just laughed it off and didn't really care about it when she should've made a proper apology. It didn't look like a person who was genuinely feeling sorry and it made my mental state worse. So I said just forget about it, and she didn't even answer back.

Other reasons I cut her off:

I had been already feeling depressed because I had always felt that I was the only one who cared about the 'friendship' she claimed to call it. Whenever I wanted to 'talk' with her, I always had to bring something interesting related to the fandom stuff, or she didn't even reply or reply very carelessly like "okay cool" a few days later when I texted her. She also didn't text me first usually, and I noticed it when I started talking with her last year. I thought I could talk about it to her and solve the problem together, so I seriously asked her to text me first sometimes and told her that I was feeling neglected because of her lack of messages. She said she wasn't just a talkative person and didn't really start a conversation first, but it was also the same for me because I wasn't a talkative one either. At least she promised that she would change and try to message me first, but she didn't. I talked about it to her more than three times, but she didn't even try hard to keep her promise and I lost trust that it would fix anything if I talked with her.

This was the last conversation when I blocked her.

I was trying not to be rude, and I explained why I decided to distance her. If she actually cared about the 'friendship', then she should've apologized to me and asked me if we could start over. But she immediately decided to cut me off (which means she didn't care about me) and started making excuses to justify her actions.

About Neoepentane5 saying something supportive about rape:

She tried to make her words promising about rape is okay by using the logic that she's Asian and Asian people are like that. Me, as a Korean, I don't support rape and I am against people who tolerate rape in any case. I couldn't understand how could a person be okay with rape at all and I was so disgusted by it, so I vented it to my friend because I'd already cut her off and there was no way for her to see this, a few days ago. But somehow, Neopentane5 was able to see my DM which I only intended to share with my friend, and wrote about it, making excuses and revealing my Discord name and Tumblr blog to the public, allowing her followers could easily attack me when I had no intention to expose her when I was talking with my friend.

We used to be friends, but we didn't quarrel and the quarrel she means is the last conversation I wrote about above, where I was explaining why I decided to block her. I didn't drive a distance between Neopentane5 and her friends, in fact, there was only one person I asked why didn't they distance Neopentane5 yet. The friend she was talking about was also my friend, and when I decided to block her, I told the friend too. I was genuinely worried about the friend because they said that they also had problems with Neopentane5 before and had an emotionally hard time because of her.

I talked about my interaction with her to my friends, not making it go on the public. Every person can feel bad and hate someone, and I needed to vent my feelings to my friends, Neopentane5 is talking about this as if I did something wrong after seeing what she wasn't able to see. About how she could manage to see my DM, my friend shared it with someone else without my consent and their friend shared it again to another, and so on. This is a wild guess, but when I talked to the friend after blocking Neopentane5 they said they already knew what happened, and in the way Neopentane5 talked in the last conversation I had with her, it's not hard to assume that she probably said many bad things about me. I don't blame her for talking back behind my back, because it's natural to vent someone's feelings to someone, but it's very disappointing and frustrating to see her attack me.

When I said I could make her an account, she denied it because she didn't want to look weak in front of me and said it was cheap to buy a new phone number, saying it didn't even cost a single dollar.

It was one game she bought, and I told her how much I appreciated it enough that she told me to stop praising her. However, she hadn't played it once when I asked her to play it together later. I don't know what she's talking about the 'learning new ways to use AI for me' because if she's talking about CAI, I was the one who was making characters mostly and I've never asked her to make one for me.

I asked her to do RP with her because it looked like she was getting tired of CAI's waiting line and the limited responses. I said it was totally okay if she didn't want to do so, but she accepted it and then I made a server to invite her. She talked like she didn't enjoy it at all, but as embarrassing as it might sound, I enjoyed it and appreciated her for doing it together, and when I asked her if she was enjoying this too, she said yes and saved funny moments we had.

I say it again that it wasn't an argument or a quarrel. I explained why I wanted to distance her instead of just blocking her without any words, giving her the last chance to apologize and to make things better again. I explained it in the last conversation I had with her, you can read about how she keeps trying to justify her careless actions toward me by saying she's just forgetful and I don't understand her at all when I was struggling because of my depression and I needed someone to show me that they cared about me, but she couldn't understand me at all. I expected her to show it to me because she said I was special and different unlike the other friends she had, but maybe I was too naive.

I've never talked about anything related to her to the public or in my account where anyone can see it until now. Look at who decided to point me out and blame me, revealing my blog and discord account.

It's also not healthy to write me to go kill yourself.

This is all, and it was Neopentane5 who started blaming me on the Internet first. These are her Tumblr, Twitter, and Instagram pages. I hope anyone who reads this will distance yourself from her and her devotees, and it would be appreciated if you could reblog this post and share it on other websites like Twitter too.

Sorry for tagging the fandom tags, but I don't want other people to suffer the same thing I did. Thank you for reading a long post. + I edited the post since it was flagged.

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transwitchofthewilds · 4 years

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When The Soviet Soldier Met The Pharaoh - chapter nine

Volkov smirked. "Look what we've got here...a trus."

Akim gulped.

Volkov paced closer. "I don't know why you're here...after all you didn't do anything for the world...because everyone knows ill men like you can't do shit," Volkov spit.

Akim backed up a couple of paces.

Volkov chuckled. "What's wrong? I'm not gonna hurt you…" a laugh, "just kidding." He punched Akim right in the nose, causing Akim to stumble backward and fall onto the ground. Volkov just keep getting closer as he clenched both two of his hands into a fist.

"I think this was a mistake," Teddy whispered.

"You think?" Anger seemed to dance in Akim's voice.

As Volkov got closer, Akim managed to know his feet out from underneath him.

Akim then scrambled to get up only to find out that Volkov had ahold of his ankle. Akim swiftly kicked Volkov in the face, making him let go, and then Akim stood and quickly dashed off.

As he was rushing away, he noticed Ahkmenrah leaving his tomb. Akim ran up and hugged him tight, burying his head in Ahk's chest.

#trus means coward #nikolai akim sidorenko xiii #akim sidorenko #akimenrah #ahkmenrah #ahkmenrah x oc #natm #night at the museum #natm teddy roosevelt #yuri volkov natm

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smol-boy-akim · 4 years

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Leave Him Alone

Pain.

That's all he felt.

He didn't think he'd ever be in this situation again--he didn't think he'd ever feel pain again on the account that he had died oh so many years ago.

But here he was. Once again he was feeling pain.

Volkov had been relentless with his attacks on Akim.

Even Ahk had been frightened by the other soldier.

Al, who had been deemed Akim's museum brother, hadn't won a fight with Volkov when he stepped in.

Akim wiped his face.

Red dotted his jacket sleeve.

Am I bleeding?, he thought.

It seemed as though the exhibits had been coming more and more life like as time went on.

Volkov chuckled as he punched Akim right in the eye.

That caused Akim to stagger backwards and fall to the ground. He was right up against the wall.

"Say goodnight Sidorenko," Volkov said, chuckling and balling up one fist.

Instinctively, Akim covered his face with his arms, but he knew it wouldn't do him any good.

"And what do you think you're doing young man?" A familiar voice called out.

Volkov began with, "I was just-" he was cut off.

"You leave that poor boy alone," the voice said.

Akim was able to identify the voice this time.

It was none other than Amelia Earhart.

"Or what?" Volkov questioned.

"Or this will happen-"

That had been followed by the noise of a slap.

Akim peeked out from behind his arm to see what was going on.

Volkov had scrambled off, holding his face.

Amelia placed her hands on her hips triumphantly. "If I catch you near him again, you'll be a dead man," she called after him. Amelia turned to face the sixteen-year-old Russian boy who had just watched all of that go down. Amelia held her hand out.

Akim grabbed it, being pulled up.

"Did he do that to you?" She immediately asked.

"Do what?" Akim asked nervously.

"Why you have a shiner and a bloodied up nose!" Amelia exclaimed.

"I do…?" Akim's voice was shaky.

Amelia nodded. "And once we get something for that eye, I'll give that sap a piece of my mind."

#natm oc #nikolai akim sidorenko xiii #akim sidorenko #natm #night at the museum #ahkmenrah #akimenrah #ahkmenrah x oc #natm amelia earhart #natm al capone #yuri volkov natm

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siilvan · 3 months

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The people have spoken, and they want PetraxYuri NSFW Alphabet 🤭

PetraYuri NSFW Alphabet

You're officially to blame for me not working on Bloodsport today. I mean, I probably will after this, but you're to blame for it taking longer lmao. Not complaining, like I said privately, I was already planning an NSFW alphabet for Petra and I love talking about these two 🤭🤭

This will cover NSFW subjects (obviously) and briefly touch on some sensitive subjects like SA, abuse, trauma, and PTSD. If that's not for you, feel free to scroll <3

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex.)

After sex, Petra is the type to want to cuddle and bask in the afterglow of it. She thrives off the intimacy and comfort that comes with laying in his arms, especially since sex is a very vulnerable time for her.

For Yuri, he gets very lazy after sex and just wants to cuddle, so they're compatible on that front. Depending on how they're both feeling, they're either spooning, laying with her head on his chest, or vice versa.

They'll get cleaned up eventually, once she's able to drag herself out of his embrace and he's able to let her go. There's plenty of days where the cleanup actually consists of Petra laying in bed while Yuri takes care of her because, despite her protests and insistence that she can handle it herself, he refuses to let her lift a finger.

B = Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and their partner.)

For Petra, her favorite body parts on herself are probably her breasts, hips, and thighs. She's pretty genetically gifted on those fronts (PCOS is a curse, but a blessing in terms of giving her extra fat in all the right places), but she also works hard to maintain them. She's also pretty proud of her ass and toned arms, the latter of which she's worked out religiously while trying to keep up with her team.

On Yuri, one of her favorite things about him is his hands. Dexterous, strong, experienced, and the very things that made her discover she has both a hand kink and a tattoo kink lol. She loves it when he touches her and lets her mind drift off to some unholy places that would get her banned from any church in her country. Also, his arms and chest. Strong and warm, she feels safest in his embrace.

For Yuri, his favorite body part of his would probably be his hands or his mouth. He knows he's skilled with his hands and there's few things he enjoys more than making her come undone with just his touch. He indulges in the way the lightest brush of his fingers can make her shiver. Despite him being a fairly quiet person at all times, he's damn good at using his mouth to drive her closer to the edge, whether it be with words of praise or his mouth on her skin.

On Petra, his favorite things are her breasts and thighs. What can I say? He's a simple man who loves having something to hold and squeeze. She's called her tits "stress balls" in the past and he uses them as such, always grabbing and kneading at them like a cat when they're alone (something she's not complaining about, they get heavy and she's happy to let him support the weight) or using them as a pillow instead. His favorite place to rest his head is her lap, though. At the end of a long day, it's all he wants to do, and he's never one to complain about having them wrapped around his head, either. Again, he's damn good at using his mouth.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum, basically.)

Inside. Something they discovered fairly quickly is that inside is where they both wanted it to go. She's got an IUD that she makes sure to replace when needed and takes the pill, they're smart about it. If not inside, then she prefers to swallow or let him paint her stomach and thighs. The latter is messy, so... they tend to clean up quickly despite the sight of it easily pushing them into another round.

D = Dirty Secret (A dirty secret of theirs.)

Every couple has their secrets... including these two.

The dirty secret they'll always keep close to their chests is how, one time, after they hadn't seen each other in far too long, they just couldn't wait until they were off base to enjoy each other again. It didn't help that they'd be stuck there for at least a few days and they wanted each other now.

A single kiss very quickly led to them hiding in one of the small alleys between buildings, with Yuri holding her up against the wall and Petra biting his shoulder just to keep quiet. It was late, it wasn't like they fucked in broad daylight in the sightline of any poor rookies coming out for a smoke break, but there was a small group that got dangerously close to seeing the pair in a very compromising position.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

For Petra, she's decently experienced. She's unlabeled (with a preference for men), but has slept with both men and women before. After some things that happened in her early teenage years, she was hesitant to approach the subject, but lost her virginity with her ex (mentioned in her backstory) when she was about 21. Since that breakup in 2014, she hasn't been in any relationships, but has had a handful of one night stands over the years – not because she enjoys them, she never has, but she craved any physical comfort she could get during a very dark time of her life.

For Yuri, I firmly believe he's a little less experienced than you'd think. Not because he couldn't easily drag a woman to bed if he wanted to, but he's a busy man who has led a chaotic life. He's had little time and little interest in romance until Petra, but that's not to say he doesn't have any experience at all. He's had one or two longer term partners, a handful of shorter relationships and flings – mostly in his teenage years and twenties – and a couple one night stands, but after he got involved with the special forces and all the convoluted shit that came with working with people like Barkov or Makarov (I'll expand on this in Petra's fic lol), he just didn't have the time or trust for anything.

F = Favorite Position (Self explanatory.)

It might seem basic, but missionary is one they've always enjoyed. The intimacy that comes with being face-to-face, Petra allowing herself to be pinned and trapped under his weight... it's also easy to switch from this to an even better position: a mating press. Thank god for Petra's focus on flexibility in her training, because Yuri will fold her in half once he gets lost in it.

A couple other beloved positions are cowgirl (+ reverse), spooning, and her sitting in his lap in front of a mirror as his fingers work their magic. They usually just go for whatever they're feeling at the time.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

Typically speaking, they're a little more serious in the moment. Both Petra and Yuri are people with some... pretty intense trust issues, honestly. It's something that brings them together, but also something that leads to them viewing sex as almost too vulnerable a thing. It leads to overthinking and self doubt, which presents itself as an overly-serious need to please.

As trust builds and they become more secure in not only the relationship and each other, but also in themselves, sex goes from a stressful experience to something far more lighthearted and fun. Petra's a damn tease when she wants to be, always pushing his buttons and egging him on when she wants to play, and Yuri in turn is the type to "discipline" her through edging her for eons (which, she loves, as it just means more time spent under him).

With the fun comes jokes and laughter, and with that comes moments where they pause to appreciate what they have. Breaks between rounds are usually filled with stupid giggling and heavy make-out sessions, they really just can't get enough of each other.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

For Petra, she's seen enough infections and nasty cuts from using a razor or scissors with a fatigued mind in the AFAB patients that have ended up in her care. She prefers to just wax it all off and/or use an in-shower removal cream. It's not that she cares about being bald, she just doesn't want to deal with the maintenance on top of everything else or the discomfort that comes with having hair. It's quick and easy, two of her favorite things.

For Yuri, he didn't particularly care about trimming or maintaining a certain look before he met Petra. He trims his hair because it's what she's comfortable with (and he wants to look good for her, the absolute simp). That being said, one thing Petra does love about him is his body hair – his chest and arm hair is one thing, but it's his happy trail that drives her crazy. It runs right through a sizable scar on his abdomen (five points to anyone who can guess what it's from) and always sends her to her knees.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect.)

Their first few times weren't necessarily all-too romantic, per se, because they were both horribly worried about something going wrong. Either they do something wrong that drives the other away, or the other suddenly decides to betray them in their most vulnerable state.

That never happens, though, and things only get more romantic as time goes on. Kissing, hand-holding, pressing their foreheads together, staring into each other's eyes... despite neither of them being much for PDA beyond holding hands when they're somewhere safe, sex is an extremely romantic time for them.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon.)

For Petra, despite having an above-average sex drive, she's never really been one for masturbating. Her mind has a tendency to wander when she tries to fantasize, either to work she feels like she should be doing or to less savory places that completely pull her out of the moment. She's tried watching porn to solve this issue, but it doesn't help – she starts asking herself the most stupid questions, like "Was this was actually made at home, or is the set and camerawork designed to make it look that way?" or "I wonder how much money they're making off my single view?" or, worst of all, her mind still drifts off to those unsavory places.

For Yuri, despite his natural sex drive being a little lower than hers (until he meets Petra, that is), he's a little more forgiving with himself and fulfilling this basic need. When he was younger, he'd jack off at least 2-3 times a week, but after the shit he went through after joining the military, he lost a lot of his desire to do so. He's never been the type to watch porn because he finds it awkward, nor is he going to be an idiot and try to jack off when someone could walk in, so he's gone incredibly long stretches without it. Like I said before – until he meets Petra. Even before they got together, he was making himself come undone to the thought of her several times a week.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks.)

Voice kink. He's not much of a talker, but he's happy to spout any filth or praise, so long as it keeps her whining and keening for him.

Praise. Self explanatory, this goes both ways.

Breeding/creampies. Even if they're not explicitly saying it, they both love it.

Overstimulation. This usually happens in the form of Yuri driving Petra into a sobbing mess, but she loves how sensitive he can get.

Edging. They like testing each other. Again, usually Petra's the one on the receiving end.

Phone sex/mutual masturbation. These go hand-in-hand, specifically when they're forced apart by their responsibilities.

Marking. Bites, hickeys, bruises – they try to keep it to spots easily hidden by clothing, but occasionally someone gets a little too eager and forgets that.

(Light) bondage. This is one that took a decently long time for them to build up to. Between her existing trust issues and her prior assault, it was a bit of a challenge for Petra at first, but Yuri is a patient man happy to wait for her to be ready.

Nicknames. Mainly for her. He could add "my" in front of almost anything and send a shiver running down her spine. One "good girl" is all it takes to get her going some days.

Grinding. Okay, I'll admit it: there are times these two barely reach taking their clothes off. He loves watching her chase her high on his lap or thigh, and she loves watching his resolve break while he's still fully-dressed, sometimes even in some of his gear.

Sleepy sex. Whether it's before bed or (preferably) after they wake up, they love it. They yearn for every domestic moment they can get.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do.)

Somewhere private, ideally. If they're somewhere with less privacy, like base (whether it's 141, Chimera, etc.) or otherwise a more public place, they try to behave. If there's a room they can safely sneak off to and lock the door behind them, though? It will be used. Their respective offices and bedrooms are their usual spots, if they just can't resist.

At home (because eventually they'll live together off-base), though, no spot is off-limits. Bedroom, couch, kitchen counters, dining table, shower, desk, against the wall, on the floor... it's a challenge to think of where they haven't fucked, honestly.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going.)

They're both major teases once they get more comfortable (and even a little before), so that's usually what leads to one of them breaking and dragging the other to the bedroom, if they even make it that far.

For Petra, what gets her going pretty much 100% of the time is watching Yuri do something with his hands. It can be something as mundane as him filling out paperwork or cleaning a gun, or something as intentional as him running his hands along her curves. Seriously, major hand kink on this one.

For Yuri, what never fails to get him going are the damn doe eyes Petra gives him whenever she's in the mood. She doesn't realize when she's doing it, but the way she looks up at him through her lashes and subtly pouts her lip, it's impossible to resist. Also, just watching her bend over or stretch can do wonders for his imagination and force him to drag her away to "share" his thoughts with her.

N = No (Something they won’t do, turn-offs.)

Anal. It's just not for them (or me lol).

Pain. Some low levels of it is okay, I did say that they love marking and a spank or two isn't unheard of, but they've endured enough pain in their lives already. They're each other's safe places, where they can be confident that every touch will be with nothing but love under their fingertips, they don't want to be hurt or hurt each other.

Threesomes+. Now, while this is subject to change in some fics because I'm an author with whorish thoughts, these two don't like sharing each other. It's not that they're possessive and jealous, they're just... protective and jealous. Petra's only time with more than one person (only one was involved in a sexual sense, but there was another participating) was non-consensual, so it's a "no" for her.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

In the past, she was used to giving and seldom receiving. She just felt awkward having all the attention be on her and she always felt bad over how long it took her to get off. That stopped being acceptable after these two got together. If there's one thing Yuri loves, it's having her thighs clamped around his head as he spends ages between her legs. No amount of time is too long, he's patient and so very methodical when it comes to getting her off.

Like I said before, Petra was always used to being the one giving, and she expected much the same with Yuri. There is some awkwardness thanks to his size and worries about hurting her, but once they get more comfortable? She'll be waiting for him in his office with her hair tied back. It's all about give and take, they never let the other spoil them without returning the favor. It doesn't usually take long for her to get him off this way, though – the mere sight of her kneeling on the floor, staring up at him with those doe eyes seeking approval, with her spit dripping down his length... yeah, that's really all it takes.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Slow and sensual is preferred most of the time. Sex is a time for them to let go and be their most vulnerable selves, so they like to take their time with it. That being said, Petra likes it rough when she's frustrated and just wants her mind wiped clean at the end of a long day – she gets off on the way Yuri can manhandle her so easily, and he can't get enough of the way she mindlessly babbles his name and scratches at his back whenever he fucks her into the mattress.

Basically, it depends on their mood. Slow and sensual, fast and rough, slow and rough... the latter is probably their favorite, honestly. Nothing makes her arch her back off the bed and dig her nails into his skin like those long, deep thrusts that come with it.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies are not uncommon, surprisingly. Once these two get a taste of each other, it's like all the years of neglecting themselves pours out and their sex drives skyrocket.

They're both high-ranking officers well-respected by those under their command and workaholics in desperate need of a proper vacation, getting caught in such a position is a nightmare for both of them (mainly for Petra, Yuri cares less about respect).

If they're miraculously at base at the same time for an extended period of time, chances are, they'll sneak into each other's rooms or find somewhere to meet pretty regularly. Getting to take their time is always preferred, though.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

Besides their hard no's, they're generally willing to experiment with new things. It's all part of feeling safe with each other and trusting the other not to do anything without their consent. Also, preferably somewhere private, just in case something does go poorly and they need time to recover.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

Anyone who has been subjected to my Yuri rambling knows one thing about this man: He's got infinite fucking stamina. He can go for several rounds and still be ready and eager for more – he enjoys seeing how long he can last.

Part of what earned Petra her callsign is the way she can get beat down and always get back up. Yes, this extends to sex for her. It takes a long time and a lot of effort to properly tire her out, so these two can and will go for an egregiously long time whenever they get their hands on each other. Seeing how long they can last and who tires out first is a game for them at this point.

T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

After the way she was raised, Petra felt very awkward and ashamed when it came to things like pleasing herself. She never really had toys of any kind because of it – on the rare occasion she'd masturbate, it was usually with her hands or the shower head, if she was desperate. She tried using toys with her ex, but he was the type to insist that he "didn't need the help."

With Yuri, she expected the same response. When she bought herself a small vibrator in an attempt to start pleasing herself when he wasn't around, the part of her that still felt guilty and ashamed over it made her keep it hidden from him.

However, once he found it, he didn't let it go unused. It was something they introduced slowly, but now he loves using it when he's edging or overstimulating her.

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease.)

Like I've said a few times already, they're both major teases once they get more comfortable with each other. They're not mean about it (most of the time, at least), but they love riling each other up and seeing just how far they can push each other before they snap. Flirting, lingering touches, whispered innuendos... Petra almost died of embarrassment the first time she sent him a photo of herself, but Yuri's reaction to it made the embarrassment well worth it. Nowadays, she's happy to send him photos and videos, and he even surprises her by sending some in return.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

At first, she was too shy to make much noise. Labored breaths and soft whines were all he got out of her, with her covering her mouth whenever she worried about getting too loud. Yuri didn't accept this, though. He'd pin her hands with his own and drag such sweet sounds out of her – drawn-out whimpers and moans, high-pitched whines, sharp gasps and stuttering breaths. Every breathless "yes," "please," "more," and "Yura..." reminded him that the wait was worth it.

Likewise, he was damn near silent at first. Partially because he was focused on listening to her, and partially because he wasn't used to someone wanting to hear him. Every low grunt and growl that left his lips, every moan that she practically begged him for, every breath of his that fanned across her skin... The only sound she enjoys more is his voice and the words he says to her. When he seems to forget any language but his native tongue, with praise and sweet words in Russian and broken English being all he can muster, that is when she knows he's finally let go to be with her fully.

W = Wild Card (A random headcanon for the character.)

For Petra: She's used to being the caregiver, both in her career, her platonic relationships, and her romantic relationships. With her ex, she was frequently giving without receiving much in return. With her one night stands, there was little to no aftercare provided to her. Because of this, she's always desperately sought out someone who would take care of her instead. After finding this in Yuri, she started letting herself fall into a more submissive state. She still cares for him like she always did for her past lovers, but it's more 50/50 now.

For Yuri: Some selfish and possessive side of him has a dream of being more open about their relationship. They don't hide it, but they limit themselves on PDA and don't often disclose their relationship to people they can't trust not to use the information against them. The thought of sitting at his desk or in a meeting with her on his lap, or even going so far as to get caught in the act just so people will see how well he takes her... it's a nastier fantasy that he keeps to himself (she knows, she can read him like a book) for both of their sakes.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Petra's fit and has a strong body thanks to a lifetime of training. Despite this, she's naturally fairly curvy and has PCOS, so she carries more fat than most people who live similar lifestyles. Most of it is concentrated in "ideal" spots, thankfully – thighs, hips, ass, and tits. Her bra size is 34DD (the joys of her body claim being a model lol) and her breasts are quite heavy, so she tries to control them with sports bras and tight-fitting clothing. Surprisingly, she's got nice shoulders from all the strength-building she's done to keep up with the rest of her team. Carrying medical supplies on top of the regular gear she needs has helped in her maintaining that look, too.

Yuri, on the other hand, is broad. Strong shoulders and a broad back, well-defined after years of military service. He's not some dehydrated, rigid bodybuilder, he's a man who eats well and takes care of himself – he's not soft and still has well-defined abs, but there's some fat over his muscles that just makes him look even bigger (did I mention he's around 6'2"/188 cm in the reboot?). He's littered in scars, both big and small, with his biggest being the older wound on his center stomach. I don't care that the reboot took away his tattoos, he still has them to me. Also: Uncut. 6.6 inches/16.8 cm length. 5.2 inches/13.2 cm girth. Sits heavy and low, even when hard. I will not elaborate further (yes I will).

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Both of them thought their sex drives were fairly low before meeting each other. For Petra, it came from a place of shame and unfavorable past experiences, whereas for Yuri, it came from a place of sheer exhaustion and never having the time to even consider that side of himself.

Once they find each other, though? It's like those years of neglect jump out and force them to act. They will go several times a night, several nights a week, and still crave more. The more comfortable they get and the more the relationship develops, the more their hunger for each other grows. There's times it feels almost scary, just how badly they need each other once they get attached.

Z = Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterwards.)

Depends on the circumstances (at work, at home, stress, fatigue, etc.) and how long they went for. On a good night, they're passing out while tangled up in each other's embrace not long after getting cleaned up. On nights that are a little less idealistic, though, they'll stay up talking about whatever comes to mind – because, a dull conversation is usually leagues better than the things keeping them awake – and trying to appreciate every moment they have together.

Sleep usually comes to them eventually (because there are nights where the best thing they can ask for is some hours of peace), even if it claims one of them faster than the other. They're each other's safe haven and each other's home, there's nowhere else they'll ever have an easier time finding reprieve.

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siilvan · 1 month

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Desideria – I

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Pairing: Yuri Volkov/Mylène "Petra" Scholten de Ridder

Summary: Second meetings and first chances.

Genre: General, light angst, light fluff, fem!oc

Warnings: Semi-proofread, cursing, references to canon-typical violence, not much going on this time tbh

Word Count: 3k

Note: I got halfway through the next chapter of Bloodsport and rewarded myself with more self indulgent oc stuff... Bit of a shorter chapter than I wanted, but oh well (●'◡'●)

As always, very special thanks to my beloveds @sofasoap, @nrdmssgs, and @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot for their endless encouragement and support <3

"Lively group we've got here." Mylène comments, her narrowed gaze slowly dragging over the other people in the room.

Gathered were the remnants of the one-four-one. All but the pair of bright-eyed, effervescent siblings currently lying in hospital beds. Everything feels darker, somehow, like the sun had been eclipsed at its peak. The thought weighs heavily on those who remain, the silence at first only being broken by the sounds of fabric shuffling as people shifted their weight and the occasional quiet grunt or cough.

"You're lookin' lively yourself, Lt." Kyle is the second one to speak up, his eyes meeting hers from his spot leaned against the wall.

The hospital was charitable enough – or, more likely, Laswell had pulled some strings to 'convince' the staff – to leave a private meeting room empty for the group to gather.

"Okay, we're not going to get anywhere if we don't address the elephant in the room." Laswell interrupts the awkward banter with a low exhale. She's stood at the front of the room with her arms crossed tight over her chest, the tension in her muscles readily apparent to the other woman. "We're not in a good position right now. We're two down, out of leads, and out of intel on Makarov's next moves."

"Very hopeful start, Laswell. You should try being a motivational speaker." Kyle snorts, silently surrendering when her hard stare directs itself at him.

"Kyle." Price's unimpressed and, frankly, exhausted voice lightly scolds the sergeant. Kyle was the most bubbly one in the room, especially given how his only competition was Laswell, Price, Simon, and Mylène – all of whom look to be on the verge of snapping for different, yet related, reasons.

"Do we have anything at all to work with, Kate?" The captain shifts his attention back to the liaison; one of their only allies at the moment.

She takes her time before answering. Her ocean blue eyes are trained on the large, wooden, oval-shaped table in the center of the space, still in pristine condition due to none of them even daring to touch it. "Minimal resources." She starts, pausing to wet her lips. "As you all know by now, we're splitting up to utilize what little we have."

"John, Kyle, you're linking up with Farah's forces to try and gain some intel from within Urzikstan's borders. Ghost, you and Riot are heading to Mexico to follow up on a lead from Colonel Vargas." Laswell continues, taking another pause to meet the remaining lieutenant's mismatched eyes. "You've got a special assignment, Petra."

"So I've heard." Mylène huffs, her tone dry as her arms lift to cross over her chest.

"One of the few leads we have at the moment is on a smuggler – chemical weapons." Laswell states.

"Connected to the agents Konni Group's been drooling over since General Barkov was taken care of?" Mylène's eyebrows knit together, trying to recall any names of known smugglers. A few come to mind, none of which were reliable or still functional, but she mentally files them away nonetheless.

"Exactly that." Laswell nods, sliding a flash drive across the table, right into the other woman's waiting hand. "We don't have a name, just locations of the trades we've been able to confirm. The contact I got this from has already agreed to help with every step of the investigation."

Mylène turns over the USB stick in her hand, eyeing it curiously. "The contact, is it Colonel Volkov again?" She asks, turning to Laswell once more as she safely tucks the flash drive away.

"How'd you guess?"

"Vrag moyego vraga - moi drug." She echoed his prior words, the ones he spoke to the two women back in Arklov Base. The enemy of my enemy is my friend.

The older woman lets out something of a chuckle and cracks a smile for the first time since she arrived. "Nikolai agreed to provide transport, at least for linking you up with Yuri. He'll be picking you up in about three hours."

"Three hours— why do none of you give me more time to prepare?" Mylène shoots a pointed look towards Laswell and Simon specifically and turns to walk out, but stops dead in her tracks before she can even take a single step towards the door.

"Someone should be staying with Johnny and Freya. They're still targets, even here." She says, sending the group a wary glance.

Riot was hovering over the siblings' bedsides at the moment, hence why she was missing the meeting, but she'll be leaving with Simon before the end of the day. They'll be left alone. Someone needs to stay with the two, just in case.

"We've already got that covered."

Mylène quirks a brow at Laswell's assured statement, until she hears the door behind her open and close with a soft click.

A tall, broad figure is standing in front of it, dressed in a simple pair of jeans and a black hoodie with the hood lowered, showing off a head of messy dark brown curls. A set of forest green eyes stare back at her, the rich color standing out against the dark circles under his eyes and the long, jagged scar running down the left side of his face. It starts just above his eyebrow and disappears into the black surgical mask he's wearing, giving some air of mystery despite her knowing exactly what exists underneath.

Emiel Scholten de Ridder. Nightfall.

To others, he may be an imposing character, but to Mylène, he's just her little brother. Well, little in age.

"Finally staying in one place for more than a few days?" She draws him into a tight hug with a gleeful smile on her lips.

"Seems like it." He chuckles into her hair, returning the hug for a few seconds. "She decided to pull me off my last assignment and station me here to keep an eye on things."

"I wanted the best on the job." Laswell clarifies, earning a confident nod from the younger woman. "Nightfall will stay in the hospital as long as Soap and Mini are here. They'll be safe." She adds and meets Mylène's gaze once more.

"If there are no more questions, then I'll let you get prepared."

"None at all, Watcher."

⋆⋆⋆

The heavy blades of the helicopter are a welcomed sight, whipping up a light breeze that blows the loose strands of hair framing Petra's back as the vehicle descends.

She wastes no time in approaching it and sliding the side door back, stepping up into the cabin. The door shuts behind her with another heavy thud, leaving her standing in a UH-60 Black Hawk so familiar that she might as well call it her second home.

"Good to see you in one piece, Mila!" Nikolai calls out over his shoulder. Petra turns to flash him a smile, carefully setting her backpack against a wall before coming up to the cockpit.

"Thought Makarov took me out of commission, too?" She hums, calmly settling in the co-pilot's seat next to his.

"You? Of course not." He laughs, hearty and full of life. It was refreshing after spending so much time in the hospital. "I am just happy to see you doing well, my friend." He adds once the laughter dies down, the helicopter taking off just as quickly as it had landed.

Petra shifts in her seat in anticipation for the longer flight. "I'm assuming we're not meeting Colonel Volkov at Arklov Base again?" She asks with a soft laugh of her own.

"Unless you are willing to brave sarin gas, then, no." Nikolai comments. "He's in Zaporizhzhia."

"Zaporizhzhia?"

"Melitopol, to be exact." He clarifies, intentionally slowing his speech and harshly pronouncing each syllable with a cheeky grin.

"Fucks sake, I know what it is." She huffs, ignoring his amused snort as she shakes her head. "What's he doing in southern Ukraine?"

"Waiting for us, probably." He shrugs with the sarcastic response. "Did Laswell send you in with any information on this op?"

"Yeah, actually, thanks for the reminder." Petra jumps up from her seat and shuffles over to her bag, unzipping it and pulling a tablet out. She plops down in her seat again after a moment, scrolling through the pages of intel that she transferred from the flash drive that Laswell gave her before she left.

Like she said before, it was mostly locations of confirmed trades between the yet-unnamed smuggler and Konni Group. There was an attempt at pinpointing his home base, but the locations were too scattered all over the map to centralize them. Unsurprisingly, a decent amount of the trades happened in Eastern Europe – they already knew it was Konni Group's playground, though, so it gave her nothing about the smuggler himself.

"Maybe he knows something that we don't." Petra mumbles, half to herself and half to the pilot. "The next deal could be happening in Ukraine." She adds.

"Suppose we won't know until we talk with him." Nikolai comments, earning an affirmative hum from her. A second passes before he speaks again. "When was the last time you slept?"

She blinks, her gaze flitting up from the screen and landing on him. "What?"

"Sleep? The thing most people do at night?" He explains, completely ignoring the way she rolls her eyes as soon as he starts. "When you close your eyes and dream of handsome pilots who always come through to help you in your times of need?"

"Having romantic dreams about yourself again, Nik?" She quirks a brow at him. "And, I'm fine. I slept—"

She cuts herself off, her lashes fluttering as she blinks a few more times. Her eyes drop to the tablet sitting on her thighs, unfocused on the screen as it slowly darkens before shutting itself off.

"...Some time recently." She mutters after a few seconds.

"We'll be up here for a while, you will have plenty of time to agonize over those files after we land. Get some rest while you still can, Mila." His voice softens, the previous humor in it dissipating and making room for a genuine concern that she only heard in certain moments.

Still, she argues. There was just too much for her to do. "But, I—"

"My bird, my rules. Get some rest." Nikolai replies without missing a beat. He doesn't even look at her while giving the command, nonchalantly glancing over a few gauges and dials like it was natural for him. Well, it was probably as natural as breathing at this point.

With a sigh comparable to that of a child getting sent to bed, she concedes. "Fine, just wake me up before we land." Petra shifts and gets into a more comfortable position, the tablet forgotten on the panel as she semi-awkwardly curls up and eventually finds a way to drift off into a light sleep.

⋆⋆⋆

The telltale sound of the helicopter descending is what wakes her up, eventually. Petra rubs the sleep out of her eyes before it touches down and hurries to grab the tablet, maneuvering back to her backpack and shoving it inside.

"Melitopol, safe and sound." Nikolai announces, stepping out of the cockpit after shutting everything down.

"Didn't doubt you for even a second." She slips her backpack on with a slow exhale and follows the pilot out onto the tarmac.

The sun was starting to crest over the horizon, spilling a healthy balance of oranges, reds, yellows, and pink hues all over the sky above. The location they had landed at was some sort of base – not necessarily military, judging by the lack of a uniform… well, uniform, amongst the few people gracing the small airfield. Mercenaries, she assumes.

"So, where are we meeting him?" She asks, carefully examining her surroundings.

"Right here, if that works for you."

Petra turns when she hears the familiar voice, gravelly and rich, and sees the man himself approaching them.

"Colonel Volkov, always good to see a friendly face." She greets him, stepping forward to meet him and holding out her hand.

"Please, there is no need for formalities." He chuckles, shaking her hand far more gently than she was used to. "Just call me Yuri."

"Yuri. That works for me." A bright smile flashes across her face as his name leaves her lips.

It's right then and there that something in the back of the colonel's mind changes, begging him to only have his name spoken that way from now on. Spoken by her. He tries to ignore that feeling, especially as the other Russian in the group catches his attention.

"Yuri, my brother." Nikolai shares his own cheerful greeting with the man, one that’s eagerly reciprocated as the two hug briefly.

"It's been too long, my friend." Yuri comments, patting his shoulder one last time as the two part.

"You two have known each other for a long time?" Petra quirks a brow at the pair as Yuri starts to lead them to a car nearby. He fishes a set of keys out of his pocket – he’s in civvies, she realizes. Dark jeans and a navy blue windbreaker, with the collar of a simple black shirt peeking out from underneath – and tosses them to Nikolai.

"Something like that." Nikolai slides into the driver’s seat after catching the keys. The other two circle around to the passengers’ side, where Petra reaches out to open the door for herself. Yuri beats her to it, though, and he holds the door open while she slips into the backseat. He sits in the front, leaving her to lean forward and poke her head between the two men.

"So, where are we heading from here?" She chirps, realizing but refusing to admit just how much that short nap on the helicopter helped her. For the first time in weeks, she feels like she has some energy.

"South, past the border." Yuri replies, his low voice rumbling right next to her ear.

Wait, what? "The border? We're heading into Crimea?"

"I am assuming Laswell gave you the information I delivered to her." He continues, turning his head just enough to meet her confused gaze. "The smuggler working with Konni Group isn't the one we are going after, since he hardly shows his face for these trades, but the man who facilitates most of the deals should be here for an upcoming one."

She hums. "When is it?"

The car pulls onto a road after leaving the base, quiet and mostly vacant of any other vehicles as the light of the sun slowly begins to fade from the sky. Moving in the dark. It's smart. Petra had already sat back in her seat before reaching into her bag, lazily dropped next to her. She fishes her tablet out, deciding to give the information a thorough scan, unlike her cursory glance in the helicopter.

"Three days from now. Not sure what time." Yuri mutters. "I have my own contact coming into town tomorrow to assist. FSB."

"FSB? Are you sure they can be trusted with this?" She huffs, raising her brows again as she looks at the side of his face.

He makes a small sound, akin to a curt chuckle. "Trust me, he is reliable. He's bringing information on our broker and claims to hate him just as much as we do."

"Do we even have a name for our target? Laswell couldn't give me one." She blinks, wracking her brain again for any known smugglers.

He shrugs, the quiet rustling of fabric his only answer for a brief moment. "We will tomorrow."

Petra accepts his response with a nod and a muted sigh. The drive to the border would be at least another few hours, and she was sure that crossing it would end up being some elaborate scheme to avoid detection by the border patrol. In any case, she buries her nose in file after file while Nikolai chats the other Russian's ear off.

At one point during the drive, already over an hour in, the pilot was spinning some recent tale about his nebo that she halfway tunes in for. Her eyes flit up after he says something about her "kicking his ass" and, after a low snort that she denies when he points it out, her gaze drifts to the rear-view mirror. Curiosity, the instinct to check the road behind them without making a scene, some random desire to look at herself – she isn't sure what motivates her to do it, but when she meets a pair of steel blue irides in the reflection, she freezes.

Yuri, in his silence only broken by muttered "oh's," "ah's," and quiet hums whenever Nikolai badgered him enough for a response, was eyeing her in the mirror.

And, here she was, meeting his gaze and staring back just the same. They already had a moment like this once before: at Arklov Base, before the missiles hit and disrupted the meeting Laswell had stolen her away from her team for. There was some kind of energy, a spark, even, that seemed to keep drawing their attentions back to each other, even with a woman discussing a potential world war brewing or a man actively attempting to steal the show right next to them.

She would deny the faint shiver creeping down her spine, just as he would deny the subtle electricity beneath his skin forcing him to flex his hands. They break eye contact at the same time, with his moving to the road ahead as hers drops down to her screen once more.

There is one thing Petra can tell already, as she quietly raps her fingers against her thigh and attempts to distract her mind. This mission is going to be more trouble than it's worth.

Vrag moyego vraga - moi drug. (Враг моего врага - мой друг.) - The enemy of my enemy is my friend.

Mila - Slavic diminutive of Mylène

Nebo (Небо) - Sky

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