#two snipers entered the bar...

[cabbagege]

You should be more careful with your shooting hand

Another hip pop✨

[justaparsec94]

Reunion

Summary: After being sidelined for weeks by an injury in the field you're finally reunited with your favourite snarky sniper and the rest of your squad.

Pairing: Crosshair x fem!reader

Word Count: 7,246

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Minors be gone, Explicit

Author's Note: I wrote this as second part to my one shot "Sniper" but I think it stands well enough on it's own if you haven't read that one!

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Walking into 79’s was like walking into a wall of sound and heat. It was visceral and made you pause on the threshold, shucking off the jacket you had been wearing to keep the cool night air at bay. You definitely weren’t going to need it as a sudden clamminess, the byproduct of all of the bodies in the place, latched onto your skin.

It was more crowded than you could ever remember it being on any of your previous visits. Though considering you had watched the 501st and 212th arrive on Coruscant earlier you really shouldn’t have been that surprised at the crowded nature of the bar. A quick look around at all the white, blue, and gold armour in the place confirmed that thought.

You slowly began making your way through the throngs of people. The very first time you had come to the bar you had been surprised by the number of non-clones that seemed to frequent the place, and as time went on that number only seemed to grow. You supposed it was a good place to get cheap drinks and meet handsome men. Kriff, that was the reason you were there after all, except you were looking for 4 very specific handsome men, as usual. A quick sweep of the place didn’t reveal any signs of the distinctive squad which likely meant they hadn’t arrived yet. Generally, when The Bad Batch arrived somewhere, everyone knew about it. They didn’t really blend in, no matter how hard they tried to.

You paused as you finished your lap of the bar, fishing your comm out as you tried your best to move away from a particularly loud group of clones.

“Hunter!?” You called into your comm over the chaotic noise surrounding you. You pressed your comm up to your ear and covered the other to try and drown out the thumping music, “Where are you guys?”

The sergeant’s response was barely audible over the noise of the bar, “ETA 10 minutes.”

You groaned, “Any chance you can hustle and cut that time down?”

“Negative,” Hunter responded with a hint of laughter in his voice, “Crosshair is in a mood.”

Well, that certainly wasn’t new. What was new was the fact that you were currently alone at the bar. Usually, when you attended you were with the Batch or with your friends but tonight had you flying solo. You sighed knowing that even over the noise Hunter would be able to hear you, “Alright, I’ll try and find a table.”

You disconnected your comm, tucking it back into the form-fitting bodice of your dress. You tugged once on the hem somewhat self-consciously before you started picking your way through the crowd. Your dress wasn’t even anything overly fancy, a simple black strapless body con dress that ended just above your knees. In fact, compared to a lot of the outfits currently in the place it was quite tame but it was very different from the scrubs and clogs you usually rolled up to the bar in, and that made you fidget. But as you had been getting ready that night you had thought a special occasion called for a special outfit. And you may or may not have been thinking of a particular silver-haired clone when you had pulled the dress from your closet, but no one needed to know that.

A night out at 79’s with the Bad Batch was rare for several reasons. One: because they were stationed on Kamino and were rarely called to Coruscant and, two: because they often received temporary bans from the bar for inevitably ending up in fights every time they entered the place. But this trip in particular was special because you hadn’t seen your squad in ages. A horrible ankle injury on your last mission had left you sidelined for weeks. It had been a long and hard recovery after multiple surgeries. And even after all the rehab you’d had you still had only just managed to squeak out clearance to return to the field. You had missed your squad desperately during that time. They had checked up on you throughout your recovery, some of them more than once. Wrecker because he was kind and Tech because he was convinced you were not receiving proper medical treatment. But it just wasn’t the same as being with them nearly 24/7.

Even Crosshair had reached out to you, which you hadn’t really expected. He wasn’t the most sentimental type so when a message popped up from his frequency you had honestly been surprised. You might be harbouring the galaxy's largest crush on the snarky sniper but you were fairly certain your feelings were not returned. Though it truthfully was hard to tell considering his outwardly expressed emotional range was rather limited. You knew there was a lot more going on inside of him than he let people think but it was easy to miss if you didn’t look close enough.

A part of you had hoped that after your ordeal the two of you might have grown a little closer, it had been Crosshair after all who had tended to your injury before fully carrying you down a mountain. But the message you had received from him had been a typical Crosshair quip. Are you still alive?

You had been so high on pain medication that you couldn’t remember much about the incident but you did remember Crosshair. You remembered the concern on his face, not the exact words but the reassuring way he had spoken to you, the way he had held you, stayed with you, and comforted you on The Marauder. You knew you had said things to him but for the life of you couldn’t remember what. You just hoped it hadn’t been anything too embarrassing or anything that might have jeopardized the tenuous friendship you seemed to have with him. You ached every time you thought of how surprisingly gentle his touch had been but it seemed that it had simply been the action of one teammate looking out for the other.

You put aside the thoughts of anything that may or may not be happening between you and Crosshair as you continued your journey around the bar looking for a place to sit. You stopped every once and a while to say hello to familiar clones and non-clones alike but still did your best to stay focused on your mission.

“Hey beautiful, do you need a seat?” A large, handsome Devronian male called out to you from a nearby table, halting you in place.

You felt your face flush slightly as he smiled at you, there was no denying he was handsome, and if you hadn’t been completely smitten with a certain emotionally constipated sharpshooter you might have even considered his offer but as it was you simply shook your head politely and continued on your search for a table.

Two laps around the place had you abandoning that mission, every booth was full already and you knew you weren’t about to convince anyone to give up their spot for you. That was a job for the Batch, they could clear a room like no one else, a skill that often came in handy on your nights out.

“Doc!” A familiar voice called suddenly. Your head whipped around towards the source, smiling brightly at the sight of Wrecker towering over everyone else in the bar, waving enthusiastically at you as he muscled his way through the crowd.

You met him halfway, laughing as he scooped you up into his arms, squeezing the air out of you with one of his signature hugs, “We missed ya Doc!”

“I’ve missed you too,” You replied once he had set you down and you had managed to catch your breath once more. Your heart was brimming with happiness at the sight of him, and the sight of his brothers as they pulled up alongside him.

“Good to see you Doc,” Hunter said with a small smile as he reached out to grasp your forearm gently.

Tech shouldered past his brother, cutting off the words you had been about to speak, “Yes, though this reunion is rather premature. Your medical records indicate you are still suffering from the injury to your ankle and would benefit from more time off to fully…”

“Good to see you too Tech,” You replied drily, cutting off his rambling speech. You really shouldn’t have been surprised that he had been accessing your medical records.

Hunter laughed as he clapped a hand on Tech’s shoulder, “What he means to say is that excited to see you too.”

“That is not-“ Tech protested as he looked between you and Hunter, “Not that I am not excited, I am, Doc is an integral part of our team…”

Whatever else Tech was saying was lost to the hum of 79’s as the one person you had been waiting to see the most finally stepped into view.

Crosshair looked the same as he always did, arms crossed over his chest, toothpick in his mouth as he shot a dry look at his brothers before his attention focused on you. Your heart kicked up a notch as you looked at him, you hadn’t realized just how much you had truly missed him until this moment.

The slow sweep of his gaze traveling over you felt like a physical touch, his eyes lingered over your chest, the curve of your waist, and hips for the barest hint of a moment before moving on. It made you feel molten inside.

He paused once he reached your feet, one eyebrow canting up minutely as he met your eyes once more, the barest hint of a smirk gracing his face.

“Sensible,” He snarked, his eyes flicking from your eyes down to your shoes. You had chosen a very comfortable pair of leather and cork sandals and while they were not the most stylish they were comfortable. And after nearly snapping your foot right off comfort was key.

You laughed, shaking your head in mock annoyance, “Oh stuff it Cross. I need the arch support!”

“Ok, Grandma,” He teased as your eyes tracked the toothpick in his mouth as it swapped from one side to the other. His dark eyes were shining with amusement, “Do we need to have you home to bed by a certain time too?”

“This is already past my bedtime so you should consider yourself lucky that I’m even here,” you teased right back, smiling brightly up at him.

He took a step towards you, crowding into your space. He was suddenly so close that you had to tilt your head up to maintain his gaze. You felt like a live wire in his proximity, your pulse raced in your veins. You felt his breath whisper against your skin as he spoke, his eyes sweeping over you once more, “Hmm, lucky me indeed.”

His dark eyes were swimming with something that made your heart pound against your ribs. If he kept looking at you like that you honestly felt like you might melt into a puddle of lovestruck goo on the floor.

“Are you two done?” Wrecker asked in his typical booming voice, causing the two of you to jump apart in surprise, “I want a drink!”

“Then go get one,” Crosshair snapped, glaring at his brother. He hadn’t moved away from you though, if anything he had only gotten closer as though to shield you from his brother and everyone else in the bar. You felt overheated as his hand gently brushed against the small of your back.

“I’ll have a Fuzzy Tauntaun,” You replied, tipping your head back to look at Wrecker. The rest of the Batch took your lead and gave Wrecker their drink orders, much to his disappointment.

“Awe man,” He grumbled, “I hate carrying drinks.”

“I will assist you,” Tech supplied, “The others can find us a table since Doc was unsuccessful.”

“It’s busy!” You protested as the two brothers headed off towards the bar, calling after them, “I tried my best!”

“You’re just not intimidating enough,” Crosshair said lowly, still closer than what was likely considered professional for two members of a squad, but you didn’t care. Having him this close to you was something right out of one of your fantasies.

You looked back up at him, a smile growing on your face, “Yeah, that’s your job.”

He let out a soft bark of laughter before he finally moved away from you. You frowned at his sudden absence but did your best to mask your disappointment. With a soft sigh, you followed after him and Hunter in their search for a table.

They were able to accomplish what you hadn’t in under five minutes, scaring a batch of shinies out of a table near the back wall of the bar. They preferred places where the lights and sounds of the dance floor weren’t so overwhelming and the shadows gave Hunter more of the anonymity he preferred and the perfect vantage point of everything going on that Crosshair liked.

“How have you been feeling, Doc?” Hunter asked as you slid into the booth after him. Crosshair slid in beside you, leaving very little space between the two of you as he settled. He casually leaned against the back of the booth, his arms spreading out along the back of the seat on either side of him, toothpick hanging out of his mouth like usual as his long legs stretched out beneath the table. He wasn’t technically touching you but it almost felt as if he was. You did your best to ignore the feeling of his long and lean body beside you as you looked over at Hunter who had settled himself in the curve of the booth leaving the other side open for Tech and Wrecker.

“Better. I can’t say that was the most fun I’ve ever had but it definitely could have been much worse,” at this proximity you didn’t miss the way Crosshair tensed slightly at your words but he relaxed once more before you could even so much as sneak a look at him.

“Well, we’re just glad to have you back,” Hunter replied with a nod, “Tech’s bedside manner really leaves something to be desired.”

You laughed at that but any further response you might have had was interrupted by Wrecker and Tech returning with your drinks in hand.

“Drinks!” Wrecker exclaimed happily as he set his handful of glasses down on the table, the contents sloshing about before he clambered into the booth.

Drink in hand you relaxed back against the booth as the boys began regaling you with everything you had missed while you had been away. You smiled and laughed as you listened to them, your heart warming in your chest. Being there with them it suddenly felt as if no time had passed at all. A sense of home washed over you as you sat with them. You had truly missed them so much.

Time easily slipped away as you all fell into your usual pattern of reminiscing and people-watching. There was always something entertaining going on at 79s, but thankfully it seemed the batch was intent on avoiding shenanigans tonight. The combination of alcohol and mild pain meds you were still on for your ankle made you feel pleasantly bubbly inside, laughter and smiles slipping from you easier than usual as you enjoyed the time with your squad. Though the presence of Crosshair at your side, leaning over every once and a while to whisper in your ear as he pointed out whatever ridiculous thing he had spotted going on in the bar, his hands casually brushing against you each time, might have also had something to do with the slight giddiness you were feeling.

As the night wore on Hunter had been tempted away from the table by a beautiful Twi’lek and Tech and Wrecker had gone to grab the third round of drinks for the night leaving just you and Crosshair left in the booth.

Suddenly feeling bold, likely the result of the two drinks you had had, you looked up at Crosshair, leaning into him just ever so slightly. Your voice came out huskier than you had intended when you spoke, “Did you miss me, Cross?”

He tilted his head to look down at you, one eyebrow raised. The same something as before was swimming in his eyes again making your pulse race. He didn’t say anything though, only made a soft humming noise before picking up his drink and taking another sip.

You frowned, a sudden wave of embarrassment rushing through you at your brazen question. He probably thought you were an idiot for asking such a thing. The relaxed feeling you had been feeling before was completely gone, your body tensing as you berated yourself internally.

Thankfully, Tech and Wrecker returning to the table gave you something else to focus on. You grabbed the drink placed in front of you, downing nearly half of it in a single go in an attempt to chase away the feelings that had suddenly rushed up inside of you. You could feel Crosshair’s eyes on the side of your face, but you steadily ignored his gaze, focusing on the story Tech was currently telling instead.

Crosshair suddenly leaned towards you, his mouth a breath away from your ear, “What’s-” he started but was cut off by the sound of a new voice at their table.

“Hey there handsome,” All four heads at the table shot up to look towards the source of a voice. A beautiful young Pantoran woman had appeared at Crosshair’s side, her gaze focused entirely on him, “Can I buy you a drink?”

You were no stranger to witnessing this type of thing, the boys were handsome and they garnered a lot of attention everywhere they went. It wasn’t even the first time you had watched Crosshair pick up company for the evening but suddenly the thought of being present for this was unbearable.

“Excuse me,” You said shortly, moving before the words were even fully out of your mouth. You heard Crosshair hiss as you accidentally kneed him as you climbed over him to escape the booth. You looked at the woman who was suddenly looking at you with interest, “You can have my spot if you want.”

And with that you fled from the table, beelining towards the opposite side of the bar where the washrooms were. Thankfully one of the few single occupant washrooms was open and you rushed into it, leaning back against the door with a sigh as you locked the door. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. You weren’t sure why you were so upset. Well no, that wasn’t entirely true. You were upset because it seemed that what you had thought was just a silly crush on Crosshair had become something much deeper than that and having to potentially watch him leave with someone else was literally cleaving your heart in two. You shook your head as your eyes stung, trying to get rid of the emotions bubbling inside you with the motion.

“Get it together,” You whispered to yourself as you pushed yourself away from the door. The washroom was tiny, nothing more than a small box with a toilet and sink but you were thankful for the privacy as you turned on the sink, splashing your face with cool water. You looked at yourself in the mirror for a moment trying your best to school your features into something more neutral before you left the confines of the washroom.

A sudden knock on the door startled you and you turned off the sink, “Just a minute!” You called as you grabbed a towel to dry off your hands.

You gave your head one more shake and took another deep breath before you pulled open the door only to be met with a completely unexpected sight.

“Crosshair what-?” You started but weren’t able to get anything else out before he crowded into you, pushing you back into the bathroom and closing the door quickly behind him. The sound of the door locking behind him echoed around the room.

“What are you doing?” Your voice came out as a squeak as you looked up at Crosshair with wide eyes.

“You’re upset.” He stated matter of factly, his gaze was dark as it racked over you. You had always felt that Crosshair had a way of just knowing what you were thinking and feeling and this time was no different. Sometimes it annoyed you how observant he was.

You shook your head, not willing to admit the truth, “No I’m not. I think I’ve just had too much to drink. Pain meds and alcohol don’t really mix…”

“Stop lying,” Crosshair hissed, pressing in even closer to you. You hadn’t even realized you had backed up until your back hit the sink counter behind you. He had you cornered, with nowhere else to go. You knew that Crosshair would never hurt you, if you told him to back off he would in an instant. But you realized with a flush it wasn’t fear that was suddenly pooling in your stomach, it was desire.

“I’m not…” You replied but it sounded weak even to your own ears.

Crosshair’s sharp eyes narrowed but he didn’t say anything. His eyes dipped down towards your lips momentarily before they met your gaze once more. That same look of something that had been pooling in his eyes all evening was back.

His voice ghosted across your skin, sending a shiver through your body as he spoke, “You don’t remember, do you?”

“Remember what?” You asked the heat pooling in you was growing by the moment. He was so close and you wanted nothing more than to pull him closer. The intensity of his gaze was almost unbearable.

“What you said to me that day, what I said to you,” His voice was barely above a rumble in his chest. Suddenly it clicked, he was talking about the day you had been injured.

“Cross, I don’t…” You started, shaking your head as your pulse raced beneath your skin. You had tried desperately to remember that day but the pain meds had made everything fuzzy.

“Hm,” He mused as he closed the final gap between you, the entire long length of him pressed up against your front. Your body felt as if was on fire at his proximity. He moved his hands to rest on the counter on either side of you, fully caging you in as his head dipped down towards your face. His voice was a purr as he spoke once more, “I can remind you if you want.”

You couldn’t do anything but nod, you didn’t know where this was going but you desperately wanted to find out.

“You told me that I was your favourite,” He whispered as his hand came up to cup your jaw. A smirk bloomed on his face that made your heart pound even faster, “You told me I was sexy."

You felt your face flush slightly in embarrassment and a laugh escaped you before you could stop it, “How cringe of me,” You said before you bit your lip shyly, looking up at him from beneath your lashes, “It is true though.”

Crosshair chuckled lowly as his hand slid down your neck, his thumb settled against your pulse point making you gasp softly at the touch. The two of you simply stared at one another for a long moment. You couldn’t quite believe that after months of longing, he was finally touching you. All of the nights you had spent imagining this very scenario didn’t even come close to the real thing.

Emboldened by his touch you tipped your head up, your noses nearly brushing together as you looked at him, “And what did you say to me?” You asked softly.

He moved impossibly closer, his knee parting your legs as his other hand moved to trace the curves of your body. Desire was throbbing through you with each touch.

“I said I would always stay with you,” He rumbled, “I meant it.”

You felt as though you were going to burst, every nerve ending lit up, oversensitive with every touch of his hand. You were completely lost beneath the weight of his words and his gaze. You had never felt a desire like this before.

His head tipped forward once more, his cheek grazing against your own, “Let me show you just how much I missed you, Sunshine,” He whispered, nipping lightly at your earlobe and sending shudders down your spine.

“Please, Cross,” You managed to squeak out. Your voice sounded desperate and needy but you found that you couldn’t care less as he pulled back slightly and his hand returned to your face once more. He ran his thumb over your bottom lip, his gaze was liquid fire as it traced the lines of your face.

He was kissing you then and everything else around you faded away into nothing. There was only him. There had always only been him.

You were unable to stifle the soft groan that escaped you as his lips captured your own. He gently nipped at your lower lip before his tongue soothed over the spot. He only stayed there for a moment before his tongue was pressing through, tangling with your own. It was needy and demanding and everything you had ever dreamed of.

You separated with a breathy moan, your eyes still closed, head tipped back as he moved his mouth down the line of your neck. Kissing, licking, and nipping a trail down to your collarbone. Fire was racing up your spine as he ravished your skin. It was all at once too much and not enough.

“Crosshair,” You murmured as your hand reached up to his head, your fingers scraping through his short silver hair. You didn’t miss the way he shuddered at your touch. It filled you with a sense of power, to know he was just as affected by your touch as you were by his.

He placed one final kiss on your neck, sucking on your skin in a way you knew would leave a mark before he was moving again. His hands slid to the back of your thighs, lifting you up onto the counter behind you with ease. You let out the tiniest squeak at the movement before he was settling in between your thighs. You could feel the way his codpiece was bulging against your core and you were desperate for more friction. You wrapped your legs around behind him, pulling him closer until there wasn’t any space left between you.

“This dress is dangerous, mesh'la,” He whispered as his hands once again trailed down your curves, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake, “Didn't you see how everyone was watching you? Most beautiful girl in the room.”

You moaned as he palmed your breast overtop of your dress, your breath coming out in ragged pants as you met his gaze, "I wore it just for you.”

He made a deep sound in his throat before he kissed you again, more urgent than before as your own hands bit into his shoulders. He didn’t stay there long though, your eyes widened as you watched him kneel on the ground in front of you. His touch was surprisingly gentle as he hooked his hands behind your knees, pulling you right to the edge of the counter.

“Crosshair,” You whispered again as his hands caressed your thighs, slowly making their way up and under the edge of your dress. He looked up at you, a smirk on his face, his dark eyes burning as his long, delicate fingers hooked around the edges of your panties. In one smooth motion, he had them off of you and in his hands. The look on his face was completely wicked as he stuffed them into one of the pouches on his utility belt.

“Cross,” You protested with a huff, that was one of your best pairs.

“What?” He asked before he bent his head to nip at the soft skin on the inside of your thigh, effectively rendering you speechless. His breath sent another shiver through you as he spoke again, “I want a souvenir.”

Any further reply you might have had was cut off as he reached up to hook one of your legs over his shoulder. The soft flesh of your thigh brushed against the sniper mount on his shoulder bell and you knew you were never going to be able to look at that thing the same way again. He kissed his way up the inside of your thigh, his mouth sending sparks up your spine. You were absolutely aching for him and you flushed slightly at the thought of him being able to see just how wet and ready you were for him.

You saw stars as his mouth pressed suddenly to your cunt, vision blackening around the edges as you were nearly overcome by the wave of sensation rushing through you. Tongue stroking your folds slowly, tortuously. You gasped, your white knuckle hold on the counter increasing as his tongue circled your clit, his hands biting into the flesh of your thighs as he pressed his face into you even further. You let out a soft cry, your head tipped back, eyes squeezed shut as his tongue breached your entrance. He groaned against you, his hold on you tightening even more, the sensation of it sending waves of pleasure through you. You were hurtling towards a release, all of the tension coiling in your belly as your chest heaved.

You hadn’t even noticed that one of his hands had moved, so caught up as you were in the feelings of his mouth on you, that you let out a soft yelp as two of his fingers pressed suddenly against your core. He moved his mouth back to your clit, tongue circling it as he pushed his fingers inside of you. You let out a string of curses, your walls clenching around his fingers as they crooked and found that spot inside of you that had you turning into a whimpering mess as he massaged it. You were so achingly close, months of longing suddenly coming to a boiling point as your body completely melted beneath his touch.

“Cross..” You whimpered as his tongue pressed hard against your clit, his fingers finding a smooth rhythm.

He pulled away just slightly, his thumb replacing his tongue on your clit as he continued to fuck you with his fingers.

You felt his voice against your skin more than you actually heard it, “Be a good girl. Cum for me.”

That’s all it took for the band inside of you to finally snap. You came with a shout, thighs squeezing around his head as you rode out the waves of your pleasure. It was better than anything you could have ever imagined. Your orgasm burned through you and every coherent thought left you as you drowned in the sensations coursing through your body.

You didn't even have a moment to catch your breath before he was moving again, the sound of armour clattering to the floor filled the room. You managed to focus your gaze on him once more, still flushed and overheated but your desire raged through you once more at the sight of him. He had removed his codpiece and you could see the outline of him straining against his blacks. You reached out for him, pulling him towards you again in a single motion with one hand while the other found the waistband of his blacks. He was hot and heavy against your hand as you finally freed him, his erection flushing prettily against his stomach as you stroked him once, twice. He let out a low growl in his throat, his entire body was taut, as though he was about to explode at any moment. Even as wound up as he was he still moved with the same lethal grace he always did, a snake waiting to strike. Before you could even comprehend it he had closed the distance between you. Your legs moved to wrap around him instinctually and you let out a soft cry at the feeling of the head of his cock pushing against your entrance.

“Stars, Cross,” You groaned as your hands clutched at his shoulders, your legs pinning his hips to you as he rubbed his erection through your soaking folds, “I want you so badly.”

He didn't require any further encouragement, the look on his face was completely ravenous as he entered you with a smooth thrust, stretching you and filling you so completely in a way you never had been before. You were completely unmoored, a whimpering mess in his arms as he gave you a moment to adjust to his size. Your gaze was hazy with desire as you met his own. He was all angles and sharp lines, brow furrowed in concentration but there was something soft lurking in his dark eyes that did more to you than anything else that night had. He kissed you then, swallowing your moan as he began to slowly thrust in and out of you.

You thought for a moment that you must have died, that it was all just a dream as his mouth moved down to your neck once more sucking on your skin as his hips picked up the pace. You could feel the bite of his armour against your skin with each thrust but if anything it only made you burn more. The pleasure was building inside you rapidly once more as he pulled himself almost all the way out before thrusting back into you roughly, the tip of his cock hitting you in that perfect place each time.

“Oh gods, Crosshair,” You panted as his pace increased, his hips rubbing against your clit deliciously with each thrust. His hand came up to tangle in your hair, pulling your head back just slightly to give him better access to your throat as he sucked against your skin. You knew you were going to be covered in marks later but you couldn't find it in yourself to care as the heat in your body continued to build.

Suddenly he let go of you completely, pulling all the way out of you. You whimpered at the loss but before you could even comprehend what was happening he reached out and pulled you down from the counter, spinning you around to face the sink, his back pressed up against you. One hand was on your hip, holding you close, while the other slunk up between your breasts to rest at the base of your throat. In one smooth motion, he thrust back into you causing you to cry out at the feeling of being filled once more.

It was almost too much, at this angle, he was filling you so completely, hitting that spot deep inside you with each thrust. Your head tipped forward as you were overcome with the feeling of him, just trying to focus on meeting his thrusts as you rapidly approached another high. The hand that was on your hip was suddenly moving, pulling the hem of your dress up even higher.

“Look at me,” He hissed in your ear and you were unable to ignore his order. Your gaze met his in the mirror over the sink and if you had thought it was too much before it was nothing compared to this. The sight of the two of you flushed, joined together as you both chased your highs. It was beautiful and almost enough to have you tipping over the edge once more as he continued to pound mercilessly into you.

“Look how good you take my cock,” Crosshair grunted, his eyes trailing down in the mirror. You followed his gaze to where you could see where the two of you were joined, could see the way he was thrusting in and out of you, filling you so completely, “Such a pretty little thing. Like you were made just for me.”

“Cross-“ You groaned, you were so close it was agony.

“You’re going to watch yourself cum on my cock,” He whispered, nipping at where your neck and shoulder met as his hand moved to your clit. You moaned, your eyes once again following his directions, unable to disobey a direct order. You couldn't look away from where he was pistoning in and out of you. It was lewd and so sexy that you feel like you might combust from the sight alone.

“Who else can make you feel like this? Make you feel as good as I can?” He hissed, mouth against your ear as he maintained his brutal pace.

“No one Cross,” You cried. Your eyes were burning, overwhelmed by the emotions and sensations rushing through you, "Only you.”

“That’s right. You’re mine,” He hummed, breath ghosting against the shell of your ear before he nipped your neck once more, “Only mine.”

His thumb circled your clit once, twice and that’s all it took for you to shatter completely for a second time. Crying out his name as you came on his cock. Your head tipped back against him, eyes finally shutting as you got swept away by the ecstasy of your release. You felt weightless, the sensation of your high overwhelming you completely as you sagged against him. His strong hands kept you upright, biting into your flesh enough for you to know for certain that there would be marks left in their place tomorrow.

He groaned as you squeezed around him, walls clenching and pulling him deeper into you with each wave of pleasure. His thrusts became erratic before he came with a grunt, holding himself as deep as he could as he spilled himself inside of you.

You were both motionless for a long moment, breathing ragged as you came down from your highs. You had literally never felt like this before in your life. You couldn't help but smile softly at the idea that he had ruined you forever, in the best way possible.

Once your breathing had finally evened out somewhat his hands wrapped around your waist and he pulled you close again, pressing gentle kisses along your neck and shoulders, his tongue soothing your flushed skin. He pressed a final kiss to your cheek before he pulled away, slipping out of you.

You turned, bracing yourself against the counter, flushing slightly at the feeling of his release running down the inside of your thighs. You moaned softly, tipping your head back to shake your sweaty hair out of your eyes. Your legs felt like jelly and you had no idea how you were going to make it out of the bathroom without wobbling.

You lifted a hand to run through your hair, trying to tame it into something that looked less like you’d just been ravaged, as you turned your attention back to the man in front of you. You watched as he quickly wiped himself off before tucking himself back into his blacks. His gaze met yours and the smirk on his face had fire licking in your belly once more. You chuckled softly, shaking your head as he stooped to grab his discarded codpiece, snapping it back into place with a practiced motion.

You were distracted by the thought of just how truly kriffed you were, both literally and figuratively, and missed him moving about the room. Suddenly he was kneeling before you, cloth in hand as he diligently cleaned between your thighs. His touch was achingly gentle and when he looked up at you from his position on the floor there was something completely new swimming in the depths of his eyes. A look so soft that it had your heart pounding in your chest for a completely different reason. Kriffed.

You couldn’t take your eyes off of him as he stood, disposing of the towel before he tugged your dress back into place, delicate hands smoothing out the wrinkles as best as possible. His touch left goosebumps on your skin and you couldn't stop the shudder that ran through you.

His eyes were still soft as he raised a brow at you, “You good?” He asked as his hand slid around to the small of your back, pulling you into him once more.

“Mhmm” You nodded, “Great. Better than great actually.”

He smirked, amusement lighting up his eyes as he ducked his head to capture your lips with his own once more. Thankfully, he pulled away before you could get yourself too worked up again. You grumbled softly at the loss of contact but he didn’t go far, arms still caging you in as he looked down at you.

“I think it’s about time we get you home,” He purred, his eyes molten, “Considering it is past your bedtime after all.”

You laughed, pinching him in a gap between his armour teasingly before you sobered and looked up at him, “Alright, but I might need some help taking this dress off.”

His grin was almost feral before he leaned down to kiss you once more. His voice sent shivers down your spine as he pulled away, “I think I can manage that.”

He didn't give you another moment to respond before he laced his fingers in your own and started to pull you towards the door but you planted your feet, forcing him to turn back around to look at you.

His eyebrow was raised expectantly, eyes narrowed slightly as you spoke. Your heart was racing and you felt yourself flushing but you couldn’t let the moment pass without saying something.

“Crosshair, I really care about you. Like a lot,” it came out more awkward than you intended and you felt yourself flush further, “Just wanted to tell you when I’m not all doped up. Wanted to make sure you knew that you really are my favourite...”

He smirked but his eyes were swimming with emotion, his voice was rougher than you’d ever heard it before, “Good. Because you’re stuck with me now.”

You laughed, brimming with happiness at his words. You were beginning to think you still might end up as that lovestruck pile of goo on the floor before the night was over, “I think I can live with that.”

He chuckled softly before he pulled you out the door, back into the loud chaos of 79’s. Neither of you bothered saying goodnight to the rest of the boys on your way out. A part of you had a feeling they knew where you'd gone off to anyway. Crosshair tossed a smirk back at you over his shoulder as he pulled you through the crowd, the look in his eyes though was so soft and warm that it had your heart pounding in your chest. You’d been privy to this part of him a few times before but nothing quite like this and you were suddenly smiling at the thrill that ran up your spine at the thought. This was only just the beginning. You couldn’t help but think, as the cool night air brushed against your skin as you exited the bar, that it had been a perfect reunion indeed.

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Fake Out Part 2 -Oneshot

Sorry this took me a minute, I had some work shit this last week and a half. Here's the highly requested part 2!

Word count: 5633

Part 1

Y/N went back to the way things were.  Or…at least as much as they could be.  She didn’t outright try to ignore Bucky, but she didn’t engage with him like she had tried to before, and every time Sam tried to pair them up on a mission again she would make an excuse as to why she couldn’t do it.  He didn’t try to engage with her, either, which wasn’t out of the ordinary from before that fateful mission, but apparently it was enough that one day Sam sat her down in the conference room.

“I need you and Bucky–”

“Sorry, no can do–”

“Too damn bad,” Sam griped.  Y/N glared at him then looked away.  “Okay, obviously something happened on that mission.  You don’t have to tell me, but you and him are going to have to get over it,” he continued.  “And I need you both on the next mission.  You because all of our other female spies are out of commission, and him because of his sniper and stealth skills.”

Y/N took a deep breath and nodded.  She didn’t want this weirdness to affect her job.  She could be professional.  “Alright, what’s the play?”

***

She adjusted her dress again, feeling uncomfortable as she waited.  The dress she’d worn at the previous mission with Bucky had been slightly revealing but classy.  This one was just revealing to a degree that she didn’t like.  But that was the whole point.  She was the bait to get the target into the right position for Bucky to take him out.  A quick and easy assassination.  

“Target entering,” Bucky’s voice whispered in the comm nestled in her ear.  “Straight ahead of you.”

Y/N subtly nodded in affirmation then turned her body to the side to show off the slit of the dress that rode up to the juncture of her hip, making her have to wear underwear that was barely there.  She stuck that hip out and leaned against the bar, sipping her soda water disguised as a cocktail.  

“Heading towards the bar,” Bucky said.  

She didn’t have to wait long.  “Well, hello there,” a man’s voice said close to her.

Y/N turned her head towards him and looked up into the face of their target.  She gave him an appreciative look up and down and a smirk.  “Hi,” she said seductively.

He gave her the same look, though his gaze was much more hungry.  “You here alone, gorgeous?”

Y/N giggled lightly.  “Yeah,” she said in a mock forlorn tone, pouting as she turned to face him more, puffing her chest out just enough that his eyes couldn’t help but to flick down to her breasts that felt like they could spill out of the dress at any moment.  “My friends stood me up.”

“Some friends,” he said with a frown.  “Well, may I join you and get you a drink?”

“Sure,” she said with a smile and a shrug.  He sat down next to her and ordered two drinks before putting his hand out in greeting.  “I’m Shades.”

“Shades?” Y/N couldn’t help but giggle again.

He huffed a laugh with her.  “I know, it’s a dumb nickname.”

She glanced at the sunglasses hanging onto his jacket pocket.  “Are sunglasses usually glued to your face?” she joked.

His smile widened.  “You’re funny,” he said as he leaned in closer.  “Got any other talents other than being devastatingly beautiful?”

She heard Bucky snort in her ear and she bit back a smile.  She hummed at Shades and slightly leaned toward him.  “I’ve got a few,” she said quietly.  “Though I think we both know you don’t care about any of that.”

Shades’ eyebrows raised and his smile turned into a mischievous grin.  “Who says I don’t?”  

Y/N arched an eyebrow at him and her gaze flicked toward his obvious growing boner then back up to his face.  Shades followed her gaze then scoffed before taking a big swig of his drink.  “I think all you care about…” Y/N started as she leaned in close to his ear, her left hand putting down the drink so she could cup the side of his face and her right hand could grip his bicep.  “...is how my pretty red lips would look around your cock.  Am I right?”

Shades sputtered out a sharp breath and his hands immediately moved to her hips, pulling her body flush to his and closing the distance between them to kiss at her collarbone.  “Is mind reading one of your talents?” he asked gruffly.

Y/N could hear a rustling in her ear as Bucky moved somewhere.  She hummed again as she reached her hand on his face back into his hair and scratched her nails down his scalp.  She turned her face and opened her mouth to lick at the shell of his ear.  “One of many,” she whispered before nipping his ear.

Shades groaned against her neck then suddenly stood and took her hand.  He gave her a knowing smirk then pulled her towards the door to the men’s bathroom.  She rolled her eyes when he wasn’t looking.  How romantic, she thought wryly.  

“Getting in position,” Bucky’s voice sounded in her ear.

Y/N hummed in affirmation as Shades brought her into the bathroom and to the biggest stall, shutting the door behind her and locking it before shoving her against the wall and kissing her passionately.  She went along with the motions, kissing him back and letting him touch her as she kept him distracted.  She wasn’t sure where Bucky was, but as the seconds dragged on and Shades was getting handsier she grunted, hoping Bucky would hear the complaint in her voice.  

If she hadn’t been paying attention she wouldn’t have heard it, but there was a light patting sound that made her open her eyes.  Bucky had just landed from one of the beams up in the ceiling and was standing back up straight behind Shades.  He had a good few inches on him, but it was the look on his face that made her almost freeze.  He was looking at Shades with a murderous glare, his nose almost twitching into a snarl as he raised the lethal injection syringe in his hand that would kill him almost instantly and make it look like a heart attack.

Y/N broke the kiss and sank to her knees to fiddle with Shades’ belt buckle and get out of Bucky’s way.  “That’s it, gorgeous,” Shades sighed.  “Show me how good you take it–”

He suddenly stiffened, his voice cracking, then a moment later he was set down roughly by Bucky next to the toilet.  Y/N let out a heavy sigh and checked Shades’ pulse, then nodded and stood back up to face Bucky.  “He’s gone.  Took you long enough–”

She froze when Bucky’s flesh hand cupped the side of her face.  She looked up at him with wide eyes as he took a step closer, crowding her against the wall again.  Her heart thundered as they stared at each other for a long while, his eyes flickering across her face repeatedly, then his thumb reached over to her bottom lip and swiped at it slowly.  “He messed up your lipstick,” he said quietly, but there was a bitterness beneath it.

She blinked at him dumbfoundedly, then slightly nodded.  “I’m sure,” she said with a small frown.

He kept staring at her lips, then his eyes slipped down her body slowly, like he was taking in every minute detail, then back up until he met her gaze.  “You good?” he asked, his tone sounding more caring.

Y/N stared at him for a moment before her gaze softened.  “I’m good,” she whispered.  “You good?”

Bucky blinked at the question, his gaze softening as well before he nodded.  “I’m good,” he breathed.  She let him stay there for a moment longer, unsure about what it was that was going on, but somehow knowing that he needed it.  After another minute of silence he blinked again and inhaled deeply before dropping his hand from her face and stepping away.  “I’ll get him placed while you clean up, then meet you at the car in 5 minutes.”

Y/N automatically nodded and moved out of the stall, closing the door behind her and going to the mirror.  Her lipstick was smudged along her lower lip, and she quickly fixed it and her hair up, readjusting her dress for the hundredth time before walking out of the bathroom and the bar.  She hightailed it to the car waiting just down the street, her feet starting to kill her in the sky high heels they’d given her as part of her outfit.  She only had to wait by the car for a minute before it beeped as it unlocked and she quickly got in the front seat and buckled herself in, with Bucky sliding into the driver’s seat only a moment later.  He drove off quickly, then after they were a safe distance away he nodded in her direction and she pulled out her phone to call Sam.

“Report?”  Sam’s voice chimed out in the car.

“The target has been eliminated,” Y/N said stiffly.  “On the way to the safe house.”

“Great job,” he said proudly.  “We’ll do mission debriefs when you get in tomorrow.”

“Thanks Sam,” she said.  “See you tomorrow.”

“Drive safe,” he said, then hung up.

Y/N relaxed against the seat.  Now that the mission was officially over her body and mind were exhausted, and the hyper vigilance and focus she’d had earlier was now giving way to the awkward situation she was in with Bucky again.  What was that in the bathroom?  After how he’d reacted from their previous mission, and then ignored her, why did it seem like he…maybe cared?  Or even seemed a little jealous?  She tried to subtly shake away those thoughts, pulling down her dress as much as possible as it threatened to ride up even higher on her hip.

Bucky cleared his throat next to her and she looked over at him.  She caught him staring at her exposed leg, then quickly looking back towards the road, slightly shifting in his seat and his jaw ticking as he took a deep breath.  Well, good to know that the attraction was real, she thought wryly as she rolled her eyes and looked out the passenger window.  After a 45 minute drive of weird tension they finally reached the safe house.  They grabbed their bags from the trunk and headed inside.  Y/N didn’t take a moment to even look at the house, she just wanted to get to her room, which she had made extra sure with Sam that there were two bedrooms this time, and get out of this goddamn dress.

Just as she opened the bedroom door Bucky cleared his throat again from the doorway to the other bedroom.  “Y/N?” he asked quietly.

Dammit, she thought.  She put on a clear expression and looked at him.  He looked nervous, and had a hard time keeping eye contact with her.  “Yeah?”

“Could we talk?” he pleaded, giving her the best puppy dog-sad eyes she’d ever seen. 

She didn’t want to.  But then again she did.  Would it change anything?  Did it even matter?  It’s not like they were even friends necessarily.  “Sure,” she heard herself say.  “Come on in.”  She wasn’t sure why she invited him, but she did, and kept the door open behind her as she walked in and dropped her bag by the bed.  He whispered a thanks to her as he followed her in and dropped his bag by the door before standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.  Y/N sat on the bed with a huff and started taking off the heels, then looked up at him expectantly.  “Would you like to sit down?” she asked him, her head tilting towards the end of the bed.  

He nodded and headed towards the bed as she slipped one shoe off and then the other, holding back a hiss as she stretched her toes and flexed her ankles, then propped herself up on the bed more comfortably and faced him, the slit in her dress making it easy for her to bend her leg and tuck it underneath her other leg.  Bucky swallowed thickly, licked his lips and looked everywhere but at her for a while as his fingers fiddled in his lap for a while until he finally met her gaze.  “I’m sorry,” he breathed.

Y/N didn’t move, waiting for more, but he didn’t give any.  Her impatience bristled beneath her skin but she calmed herself as she stared at him.  “For what?” she asked.

Bucky hung his head.  “For what happened on the last mission,” he said.  “For indulging in the cover, taking it too far, and then just leaving you alone without an explanation.  And for not being kind to you like you deserved before.”

Y/N didn’t know what to say or do, so she just stayed still.  An apology was nice, but not enough.  “Why?” she asked.

Bucky shook his head and laughed bitterly.  “Because I’m a coward,” he huffed.  “I thought you were beautiful, talented, intelligent, and sweet from the moment we met.  But something in me just…I ruin things,” he said sadly, finally meeting her gaze again.  “I’m a mess.  So even if I did get the chance to become friends or something special with you, I’d just fuck it up and lose another person in my life.  And I’ve already lost a lot so…I pushed you away.  And then I was selfish on the mission and took advantage of the cover because I knew it was the only time I’d ever get to be close to you like that.  When you said you wanted me–”

“I said maybe,” Y/N interrupted, a hint of a smirk on her lips.

Bucky snorted a laugh, which made her smile widen.  “Alright, maybe,” he conceded.  “I realized just how stupid I’d been in pushing you away, because there could have been a chance, and it just made me shut down.  So I’m sorry, for all of it.  I understand if you’d rather not associate with me, and if that’s what you want I’ll respect that and we’ll just be coworkers–”

“Hm, see there’s a problem, though,” Y/N said.  Bucky blinked, a slight frown pulling at his eyebrows.  “Coworkers aren’t supposed to be attracted to each other,” she said with a playful shrug.  “And I feel like the way you’ve been staring at me in this dress, and the way you seemed upset with me kissing Shades tonight as part of the cover proves that you won’t be able to just be coworkers with me.”  Bucky’s frown slid off his face and was replaced by something that looked wanton, his eyelids fluttering as he looked down at her dress again.  “Am I right?” she asked, tilting her head as a triumphant smirk graced her lips.

He let out a stuttered breath before meeting her eyes again.  “Yes,” he whispered.

Y/N hummed again and slightly leaned forward, leaning on her hand as she kept eye contact with him.  Her breasts really felt like they could fall out of the sad excuse for a dress any moment as she moved, and she could see Bucky struggle to keep his eyes on her face.  “I think you got hard listening to me say those things to him,” she said seductively.  “And that you were happy to kill him just to get his filthy lips and hands off of me.”

“Yes,” he nodded desperately, scooting himself closer to her but not touching her yet.

“And I think you liked the way my lipstick was smudged,” she whispered, closing the distance between them and nuzzling his nose with her nose, then ghosting her lips over his lips.  “Because you imagined being the one to mess it up with my pretty red lips around your cock, huh?”

He shuddered at her words, his forehead pressing against hers as if to keep him upright as his hands inched towards her on bed, his fingers shaking as he got closer to touching her.  “Y/N please,” he begged, his eyes looking wet like he could cry at any moment.  

“You want me?” she asked, repeating his teasing question from that first mission.  

Bucky huffed a sharp breath, his eyebrows pulled together in need as he stared deep into her eyes.  “Yes,” he said, the word sounding slurred.

She teased his lips with hers again, pulling a whimper from him as she kissed the corner of his mouth.  She loved having this effect on him.  Now that all the weird tension and apprehension between them was sorted, it thrilled her to know that the mutual attraction wasn’t a fluke or product of the cover, and made her feel free to let him have her.  “You gonna treat me nice?” she breathed.

“Fuck yes,” Bucky nearly growled.  “I’ll treat you so nice, doll, I promise.”

“Doll?” Y/N giggled then hummed.  “I like that.”  Then she finally kissed him.  

It was like the last shred of his decency snapped and Bucky’s hands immediately reached for her as he kissed her back passionately.  He grabbed her and hauled her into his lap, making her straddle his hips.  His hands gripped her hips tightly, squeezing the flesh there before his hand moved to the slit in her dress that had ridden up so far it was revealing her skimpy underwear strap.  His fingers felt over her skin and along the crease of her leg to her hip, his thumb sliding under the strap for a moment as the rest of his hand circled over her ass cheek and gripped it hard, making her gasp against his mouth.

“This fucking dress,” he murmured between kisses.  “These thighs, this mouth…” his tongue licked along her bottom lip, and she opened her mouth obediently to let him taste her.  He groaned into her mouth as her tongue entangled with his, the open-mouthed kisses getting dirtier by the second.  “So fucking hot, doll,” he said lowly.  “You taste so good.”  He pulled away just a bit to look at her as his hands moved from her hips up over her stomach to just under her breasts, pausing until she nodded and then cupping them in his hands.  “These tits,” he breathed.  “Watching you fix the dress all night was maddening.”

Y/N giggled breathily at that.  “You liked watching me struggle to keep myself decent?” she teased.

“Yes,” Bucky answered immediately and unashamedly.  He lowered his head and kissed the swell of each breast as his thumbs rubbed over her nipples through the dress.  She lightly moaned at the sensation, her back arching and pushing her breasts into his hands.  “You’re too much for this dress,” he spoke against her skin, then quickly pulled it down.  Her breasts spilled over the flimsy fabric that had barely kept them in, the straps on her shoulders falling to rest on her biceps loosely.  The air on her bare skin felt glorious, but was quickly replaced by the heat of his mouth as he lifted her left breast first and licked her nipple.  Her head fell back as she moaned louder, her hips trembling against him at the pleasure shooting through her body.

“Bucky,” she groaned, her grip on his shoulders tightening.

He moaned against her breast.  “That’s it, doll,” he said, and she could feel his smile against her skin.  

He moved from one breast to the other and back again, kissing, licking and sucking at her nipples then pushing her breasts together and shoving his face between them.  Y/N felt like she was vibrating as the pleasure built up between her legs, her fingers shaking as her grip slid down his arms until she was hanging onto his wrists for dear life.  She had never been this close to cumming just from nipple play before, but she couldn’t blame herself with this man in her chest.

Her hips started to try to grind against him and he let out another shuddering breath.  “Goddammit,” he huffed.  “So dirty, Y/N.”  He moved his mouth back up her chest to her neck, sucking at the crook of her neck like he had during that first mission.  “Can I feel those pretty lips around my cock?” he asked as he licked at her collarbone.  “Ever since you said it I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Y/N smiled as she ran her fingers through his hair, which made him melt against her.  “Alright, baby,” she sighed.  He looked up at her at the pet name and looked almost astonished that anyone would call him that.  She climbed off his lap and stood at the edge of the bed.  “Strip, then lay down.”  He nodded frantically then stood and took his clothes off in record time, nearly ripping his shirt.  Once naked he lay down on the bed with his head at the pillows, his legs slightly spread.  Y/N took a moment to look at him fully.  He was beautiful, hard muscle and scars all proof of the hard life he’d lived, and yet with the soft, yearning look in his eyes offsetting the rough but handsome exterior.  His cock was pulsing with need, leaning upwards against this stomach, and she felt her mouth water as she looked at it.  He was larger than any other she had before, but she liked the challenge and felt he ache between her legs increase at knowing how much he’d be able to fill her up.  “So pretty, baby,” she said as she started to pull the dress off.  

Bucky’s eyes widened as she revealed herself and tossed the dress on the floor, then shimmied out of the skimpy underwear that had covered virtually nothing under the dress to accommodate the slit.  He let out a choked whimper as his eyes slid down her body.  She didn’t let him look too long before climbing back onto the bed and nestling between his legs on her knees.  Her hands landed on his thighs, rubbing up towards his groin slowly as she looked him over then met his gaze as she hovered over his cock.  She kept eye contact with him as she leaned down and licked it from near his balls, up the shaft and to the tip.  His stomach flinched and his hands gripped the blanket beneath him, the metal one whirring louder than usual and making a ripping noise in the fabric.  His mouth dropped open and his head fell back against the bed with a muted thud.

“Oh my god,” he sputtered.  

“When were you last sucked, baby?” Y/N asked him, her right hand wrapping around his cock and holding him upright as she moved to more comfortably settle on her stomach, her breasts pressing against his balls and her left hand settling on his stomach lazily.  

Bucky moaned at the feeling of her breasts on him, looking back down at her as she slowly started to stroke him.  “I…I-I don’t remember,” he confessed, looking a little embarrassed.

Y/N quickly smiled at him and kissed the tip of his cock gently.  “That’s okay, Buck,” she said, then spit on it and used her saliva to lube him up more with her hand.  “I’ll treat you real nice.”

She didn’t give him a chance to answer and took him in her mouth, giving him a good suck around the tip.  Bucky’s head fell back again and his hands moved to her hair, pulling it back and away from her face with his metal hand and his right hand cupping her jaw, his thumb caressing the hinge of her jaw as she opened her mouth wider to take his cock further.  His breathing was heavy and shallow as she took her time, licking him from base to tip and randomly taking him down her throat as far as she could for as long as she could, then bobbing up and down on it in different paces, one time going fast and the next going agonizingly slow.  It made her feel powerful, having this much effect over him.

After a particularly hard suck as she bobbed her head Bucky stiffened and pulled her off of his cock.  “Fuck, doll…stop, stop stop stop,” he panted.  “I’m so close.”

Y/N smirked and kissed the tip again before sitting up on her knees.  He took a moment to breathe and stare at her then hauled himself up and kissed her before turning them both so she was laying on the bed on her back and he nestled his hips against hers.  It was just like the time she’d woken up with him on top of her, the memory making her smile.  His cock slipped between her lower lips, already wet with her arousal from sucking him.

He groaned as he thrust his hips and rubbed along her pussy as his hands held her hips still and his face pressed into the space between her breasts.  “Can I fuck you, doll?” he asked, his words slurring as his hips kept humping her and his lips pressed heavy kisses against her breasts.  “Please?  Can I fill you up or do we need something?  Please say we don’t–”

“We don’t,” Y/N said quickly, kissing the top of his head and running her fingers through his hair.  

“I mean, it’s okay if we do,” he amended, looking up at her.  “Whatever you want, whatever you need–”

“I’ve got it, Buck,” Y/N giggled and pulled him up to hover over her.  “Just fuck me.  I want you to fill me.”

His eyelids fluttered at that, and he pressed his forehead against hers.  “God, you’re perfect,” he sighed.  “Thank you.”  He shifted his hips and his flesh hand wrapped around his cock, stroking himself for a moment before lining up with her, then keeping her gaze as he thrust into her.  Y/N slightly tensed at first, since it had been a while, but the more he pushed in the more the ache in her core felt satiated, making her feel like she was melting into the bed, being properly filled and stretched for the first time in her life.  Bucky’s mouth was agape as he sucked in sharp, shallow breaths with each inch he sunk in until he could go no further, then closed his mouth and let out a sigh through his nose with a deep groan that reverberated in his chest.  “Holy shit,” he said, his voice strained and his muscles tense.  

Y/N moaned, her fingers tightening in his hair.  “Bucky,” she whined.  “Oh my fucking god!”

He smirked at her reaction and leaned in to kiss her deeply.  “You feel amazing, doll,” he praised her.  “Squeezing me already…so tight, Y/N, fuck,” he sputtered as her pussy fluttered around him.  His hips rutted into her involuntarily, pulling a deep, raspy moan from her chest, and it made his smile widen.  “So sensitive and reactive,” he said breathily.  “Am I making you feel good, doll?  Huh?  I’m already treating you so nice, aren't I?”

Y/N frantically nodded as her hands left his hair to slide down his back, her legs wrapping around his hips and trying to make him move.  “Yyyeesss baby,” she hissed.  “Please, please move!”

Bucky wrapped his arms around her tightly and braced his knees on the bed.  “Begging me now?” he teased, nipping at her throat.  “Anything for you, doll.”

His hips reared back and snapped into her, his hold on her making her squirm against him as the pleasure shot through her spine.  She whined loudly in his ear, and he continued that same slow but hard pace of thrust into her.  He was letting her feel all of him, fully enveloping her with his arms and his body, his kisses never stopping as his lips traversed across her face, her jaw, her neck, her collarbone, down to her breasts, and even nipping at her shoulders in retaliation during those moments when her pussy threatened to finish too soon.

The pressure in her pelvis built embarrassingly fast, and she could feel herself edging her orgasm.  She tried to push it down, wanting this to last longer, but her body betrayed her as his hips picked up the pace, hitting deep inside when he switched between thrusting and rolling.  “B-Bucky…baby…I’m gonna…”

“Cum, Y/N,” he huffed against her cheek.  “Go ahead and cum whenever you want.  I won’t be done with you yet.”  Y/N smiled and let herself relax, which let her finish within seconds.  She whimpered as she orgasmed, her pussy squeezing him tightly as she stiffened beneath him.  Bucky watched her face as she came, his eyelids fluttering and his own whimper mixing with hers at how she felt.  “Good girl,” he praised her.  “Such a good girl.  God, that felt good.  You look so pretty when you cum, you know that?”  His hips had stopped for a moment to let her relax, then he pulled himself out and unraveled his arms around her, sitting up on his knees.  She looked at him in confusion until he gripped her leg and twisted her over onto her stomach, then gripped her hips and pulled them up so she was propped up with her ass in the air.  Y/N shivered at the new position, secretly loving it even more because of the primal nature of it.  Without warning he entered back into her with a quick snap, and she squealed at the sudden but perfect fullness.  

“BUCK!” she shrieked.  Her hips were already trembling at this new angle, her pussy starting tiny spasms as he hit a deeper spot than before.  She braced herself against the mattress, her fingers gripping the comforter desperately as her face thrashed into it.  Her legs instinctively spread wider, her hips opening and raising her ass a little higher.  “Please!”

He moaned at the way she adjusted to him, giving her right ass cheek a swift smack.  “That’s it, doll.  Taking me so well.”  He restarted his previous pace of thrusts, his hands holding her hips still or pulling her back onto him.  “Look at me treating you so nice, huh?  Is this what you wanted?  Maybe you don’t like nice…you like it hard, and rough, and dirty, don’t you?”

His words sent a thrill through her heart, making her nerve endings feel like they were all sparkling with electricity and her mind becoming foggy with pleasure and lust.  She lazily nodded, humming in affirmation with her voice muffled by the blankets.  His thrusts became even faster, and his metal hand tickled up her back to the back of her neck, gripping it hard but not painfully.  It was more of a grounding touch, and she appreciated his unspoken reminder to her that she was safe and would be taken care of, even if he was rough.  

“Yes, please Bucky,” she begged.  “Make it hurt.”

He gasped at that, his metal fingers tightening around her neck.  “Fuck, Y/N,” he said lowly.  “Okay, doll, but you asked for it.”

He nearly mounted her, his feet planting on the bed so he was pummeling his hips into her from a more downward angle, putting his weight on her as the thrusts became brutal.  She squealed again at the change in angle, her breaths coming out in shallow, uneven puffs heating the blanket beneath her face.  Her fingers shook at how hard she was gripping the blanket, and she could feel the pleasure building more than it ever had before.  Her voice became raspy with how much she was moaning, whimpering and grunting.  Her pussy fluttered in warning.

“Cum again, doll,” Bucky commanded.  “Oh my god, yes, soak me.  Soak me!”

All the sensations came together in a rush, and Y/N screamed as she came.  A gush of cum came from her and splattered both of their thighs as he fucked her through it, then she felt him shudder behind her and snap his hips hard as he moaned loudly and a blooming warmth filled her, adding to the pleasurable aftershocks of her orgasm and making her shiver.  He let out a string of curses and praises to her as he filled her, and with a couple more ruts of his hips he sunk down on his knees then fell to his side, taking her with him to lay on her side with her back pressed against his front.  He kept himself inside her as best as he could, his hands roaming her body as he held her gently and kissed the side of her face and down her neck to her shoulder.  

“How was that, doll?” he asked quietly, nuzzling the crook of her neck.  “Did I treat you nice enough?  Fuck, you felt so good…squirting on me like that…you soaked me so good pretty girl–”

She absentmindedly nodded, clearing her throat from how tired her voice felt.  “So good, Bucky,” she breathed, barely lifting her head to look back at him.  “Fuck…I’ve never done that before.”

Bucky smiled proudly, squeezing her in a hug.  “Thank you, Y/N,” he said almost reverently.  “Thank you for forgiving me and letting us start over.”

Y/N hummed, her hands squeezing his arms around her.  Her head felt fuzzy, that last orgasm making her lightheaded and suddenly drowsy.  “Thank you for the fucking,” she slurred.

He laughed and kissed her cheek.  “You good?” He asked the same question as he had on the mission.

“I’m good,” she breathed.  “You good?”

“So good,” he groaned.  “So good.”

[starskq]

SWEETHEART / C.J

Pairing ◊ mafia!sub!reader x mafia!dom!jongho (ft. yunho, wooyoung and hongjoong)

Genre ◊ SMUT, angst, fluff at the end, ennemies to ???

Warnings ◊ SMUT (MINORS DNI), talk about guns and killing, fingering, big dick!jongho, mention of alcohol, degrading, praising (use of good girl), oral (m. receiving), lots of dirty talk, some angst, jongho is a tease

Word count ◊ 6,5k

Summary ◊ you and jongho hated each other's guts, more you hated his guts and he loved to annoy you. unfortunately, you were part of the same gang so when your boss, kim hongjoong, paired you for a mission, you didn't really had time to interact with him

a/n: enjoy! (not proofread)

In the dimly lit backroom of a nondescript bar, the air was thick with the scent of cigar smoke and the hum of muted conversation. The room was a sanctuary, far from prying eyes and ears, where only the most trusted members of Kim Hongjoong's mafia organization were allowed. The flickering light of a single hanging bulb cast shadows across the walls.

Kim Hongjoong, the undisputed mafia boss, sat behind a battered oak desk, his presence commanding the room. His sharp eyes, glinting with a mixture of intelligence and danger, scanned the space. He wore a tailored suit, a stark contrast to the rough surroundings, and his fingers tapped rhythmically on the desktop, betraying a restless energy.

You sat across from him, comfortably perched on an old leather chair, your sniper rifle resting against the side. You were known as the organization's best sniper and assassin, never missing a target, your skill unmatched. Beside you, leaning nonchalantly against the wall, was Choi Jongho. His arms were crossed, a cocky smirk playing on his lips. He was one of the top operatives, and his reputation for strength and precision was well-earned. Despite his skills, you hated his guts.

Hongjoong cleared his throat, drawing your attention. "Alright, listen up. We've got a serious situation on our hands."

You straightened, eyes narrowing. "What's going on, Hongjoong?"

"A rival gang, led by Park Jihoon, is making moves on our city," Hongjoong explained, sliding a folder across the desk towards you. "He's planning something big, and we need to take him out before he gets any stronger."

You picked up the folder and began to flip through the pages, your brow furrowing as you absorbed the details. "And you need me and Choi here to handle this?’’ You didn’t even look at him, but you heard him scoff at the nickname. 

"Exactly," Hongjoong replied, his tone brooking no argument. "You’re the best sniper we have, and Jongho is one of our top operatives. I need both of you on this."

Jongho chuckled, the sound grating on your nerves. "Don't worry, sweetheart, I'll make sure you don't screw this up."

You shot him a withering glare. "Watch it, Choi. I don't need you getting in my way."

Hongjoong slammed his hand on the desk, the sound echoing in the small room. "Enough! This isn't a game. You two need to put aside your differences for this mission. It’s too important to let your petty bickering interfere."

You exchanged a tense look with Jongho, both of you understanding the gravity of the situation. The room fell silent, the weight of Hongjoong's words sinking in.

"Yunho and Wooyoung are already setting up on their end," Hongjoong continued, his voice calm but firm. "They'll handle the tech and provide support. You two will be the muscle on the ground."

You nodded, the initial shock of being paired with Jongho starting to fade. "What's the plan?"

Hongjoong leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "Yunho has pinpointed Jihoon's location. He's holed up in a heavily guarded warehouse on the edge of town. Wooyoung will hack into their security system and create a blind spot for you to enter."

Jongho pushed off the wall, moving to stand beside you, looking over your shoulder at the folder. "And once we’re in?"

"Once you're in," Hongjoong said, his eyes locking onto yours, "you need to move quickly and take Jihoon out. Retrieve any data he has on our operations and get out. Simple as that."

"Simple, huh?" you muttered, more to yourself than anyone else. "Got it."

Jongho nudged you with his elbow, a cocky grin on his face. "See? We can do this, sweetheart."

You rolled your eyes, shoving him back. "Don't call me that, Choi. And try not to get yourself killed."

Hongjoong watched the exchange with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. "Just get it done. And remember, this isn't just about taking out Jihoon. It's about sending a message to anyone who thinks they can cross us."

You and Jongho both nodded, understanding the unspoken threat in Hongjoong's words. This mission was more than just a hit; it was a declaration of power.

The sun had set, casting a cloak of darkness over the city. You arrived at the nondescript bar, your usual base of operations. The neon sign flickered weakly, casting an eerie glow over the entrance. As you stepped inside, the familiar scent of smoke and whiskey greeted you, mingling with the low hum of conversation.

In the backroom, Yunho and Wooyoung were already setting up their equipment. The dim light from the single hanging bulb illuminated their faces, casting sharp shadows that accentuated their focus. Yunho, with his tousled hair and easy grin, was typing furiously on his laptop, while Wooyoung was adjusting to the surveillance monitors, a smirk playing on his lips.

You walked in, your presence immediately drawing Yunho's attention. He looked up, a playful glint in his eyes. "Well, if it isn’t my favorite sniper," he teased, his fingers pausing on the keyboard. "You ready to kick some ass tonight?"

You grinned, the familiar banter lightening the tension you felt in your chest due to the anxiety and adrenaline kicking in. "Always, Yunho. Just keep those pretty little eyes of yours on the screens."

He laughed, a sound that always made you feel a little more at ease. "You know me, I’ll never let my eyes off of you," he said.

Wooyoung rolled his eyes dramatically. "Oh, get a room, you two. We’ve got a mission to focus on."

You winked at Yunho before turning your attention to Wooyoung. "Jealous, Woo? Don’t worry; there’s enough of me to go around."

Wooyoung snorted. "Please, I’ve seen enough of you to last a lifetime. Let’s just get this show on the road."

The door creaked open, and Jongho walked in, his expression darkening as he saw you and Yunho standing close together. His eyes flicked to Yunho’s hand, which was resting casually on your waist, and his jaw tightened.

"Are we here to flirt or to get the job done?" Jongho snapped, his annoyance evident.

You sighed, stepping away from Yunho. "Relax, Choi. We’re just getting ready."

Jongho’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he turned his attention to the table where the weapons were laid out. "We need to go over the plan one last time."

Yunho shrugged, his demeanor remaining cheerful despite Jongho’s irritation. "Sure thing, bossy. Wooyoung and I will handle the security feeds and create a blind spot for your entry. You two just need to make sure you get in and out without getting killed."

Jongho grunted in acknowledgment, picking up his handgun and checking the magazine. "Just make sure you do your part."

Wooyoung leaned back in his chair, a mischievous grin on his face. "Don’t worry, Jongho. We’ve got this covered. Just try not to let your bickering get in the way, hmm?’’

Jongho’s eyes flashed with irritation, but he kept his focus on the task at hand. "Let’s just get this over with."

You glanced at Yunho, giving him a reassuring smile. "We’ll be fine. You know I’ve got this."

He returned the smile, his eyes softening. "I know you do. Just be careful, gorgeous, okay?"

"Always," you replied, grabbing your sniper rifle and slinging it over your shoulder, before taking your gun and slide it in your holder. 

Jongho was already heading for the door, his impatience clear. ‘’Hurry up. We don’t have all night."

You rolled your eyes as the four of you exited the bar, the cool night air a stark contrast to the warmth inside. The city streets were quiet, the usual bustle of activity subdued under the cover of darkness. You moved quickly and silently, sticking to the shadows as you made your way to the warehouse district.

As you approached the target location, Yunho and Wooyoung split off, heading to their positions to hack into the security system. You and Jongho continued forward, the tension between you palpable.

"You know," Jongho said quietly, breaking the silence, "this isn’t a game. We need to be focused."

You glanced at him, your eyes hard. "I’m always focused when it matters. Just do your part, Choi, and we’ll be fine."

He didn’t respond, but you could see the muscles in his jaw working as he clenched his teeth. Despite your differences, you both knew the mission came first.

You reached the edge of the warehouse property, taking cover behind a stack of crates. Jongho checked his watch, then his earpiece crackled to life with Wooyoung’s voice.

"Blind spot is up. You’re clear to move in. Good luck."

Jongho nodded, signaling for you to follow. You moved together, slipping through the gate and into the shadows of the warehouse. The sound of distant machinery hummed in the background, masking your footsteps.

Inside, the warehouse was a labyrinth of crates and machinery, dimly lit by overhead lights. You could see the guards patrolling in pairs, their movements precise and disciplined.

Jongho took the lead, his body tense but controlled, every step calculated. He was an expert in close combat, his movements fluid and precise. You followed closely, your rifle ready to eliminate any threat from a distance. Despite the mission’s gravity, the tension between you two simmered just beneath the surface.

You reached a corner, and Jongho held up a hand, signaling you to stop. He peeked around the edge, spotting two guards patrolling the next corridor. He glanced back at you, his eyes glinting in the dim light.

“Think you can take them without missing, sweetheart?” he whispered, a smirk tugging at his lips.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that formed. “Watch and learn, Choi.”

You positioned yourself, taking a deep breath to steady your aim. In a swift, fluid motion, you fired two shots in quick succession. Both guards dropped to the ground, silent and lifeless. You never missed a target.

Jongho shook his head, a mixture of admiration and annoyance in his expression. “Show-off.”

You smirked, moving past him. “Just doing my job.”

As you continued through the warehouse, the number of guards increased. Jongho took out a pair of guys with a flurry of punches and swift kicks, his movements precise. You covered him, taking down anyone who got too close, your bullets finding their marks with accuracy.

At one point, Jongho tackled a guard, slamming him against a crate. You watched, momentarily distracted by the raw power and grace in his movements. He caught your eye, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Enjoying the show?” he asked, breathless but confident.

You quickly refocused, shaking off the distraction and scoffing at his remark. “Just making sure you don’t get yourself killed, dumbass.”

A group of guards appeared from a side corridor, and you immediately raised your rifle, picking them off one by one. Each shot was perfect, dropping the men before they could even raise their weapons. Jongho moved in tandem with you, taking down the stragglers with brutal efficiency.

“You know,” Jongho said between breaths, “there’s something pretty hot about a woman who never misses her target.”

You snorted, but you couldn’t deny the flush of heat that spread through you. “Focus, Choi. We’re not out of this yet.”

He grinned, wiping a bit of blood from his knuckles. “Yeah yeah, details.”

As you and Jongho approached what you believed to be Park Jihoon’s office, the hallway was eerily quiet. Too quiet. The usual buzz of activity in the warehouse seemed muted, and a sense of unease settled over you.

“This feels way too easy,” you muttered, glancing at Jongho. “Something’s not right.”

Jongho shrugged, his grip tightening on his gun. “Maybe they’re just scared of us.”

You shot him a skeptical look but nodded. “Maybe.”

You reached the heavy double doors, and with a shared nod, you both burst inside, guns drawn. The room was large and cold, the air almost sterile. But it was empty. Completely empty. No guards, no Jihoon, nothing but bare walls and a desk.

“What the hell?” you said, lowering your gun slightly. “Where is everyone?”

Jongho moved further into the room, eyes scanning every corner. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

Before either of you could react, the doors slammed shut behind you with a resounding thud. You spun around, rushing to the doors. They were locked tight. You tried the handle, pushing and pulling, but it didn’t budge.

“Fuck!” you cursed, pounding on the door. “We’re locked in.”

Jongho joined you, throwing his weight against the door. “Great. Just great. This is a trap.”

You glared at him, frustration boiling over. “You think?”

Jongho’s eyes flashed with anger. “Don’t start with me. You were the one who said it was too easy.”

“Yeah, and you dismissed it!” you shot back. “Now look where we are.”

He clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. “Maybe if you weren’t so busy flirting with Yunho, you would have noticed something was off with the plan earlier.”

You bristled at his words, stepping closer to him. “Excuse me? My focus was on the mission, unlike you, who was too busy showing off.”

“Showing off?” Jongho’s voice rose, his frustration mirroring yours. “I was doing my job. It’s not my fault you can’t keep your eyes off me.”

You opened your mouth to retort but stopped, realizing the futility of arguing in your current situation. With a huff, you pulled out your phone and called Yunho.

“Yunho, we’re stuck,” you said as soon as he picked up. “The room’s empty, and the doors are locked. We need help.”

Yunho’s voice crackled through the earpiece, concern evident. “What? How did that happen?”

“I don’t know,” you replied, casting a glance at Jongho, who was pacing like a caged animal. “We walked in, the doors shut behind us, and now we’re locked in.”

“Hang on,” Yunho said. “Let me check the security feeds.”

There was a pause, and you could hear the rapid clicking of keys in the background. Jongho stopped pacing, his eyes fixed on you as he waited for Yunho’s response.

“Alright,” Yunho said after a moment. “It looks like you walked into a decoy room. Jihoon set it up to trap anyone who got too close.”

“Great,” Jongho muttered under his breath. “Now what?”

“I’ve got Wooyoung working on the locks,” Yunho continued. “But it might take a little while.”

You sighed, leaning against the wall. “Thanks, yuyu. Just hurry.”

“We will,” Yunho promised. “And hey, don’t kill each other in the meantime.”

You chuckled despite the situation. “No promises.”

As you ended the call with Yunho, the cold, empty room seemed to close in on you. You slipped your phone back into your pocket, casting a glance at Jongho. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“So, sweetheart,” he drawled, using the pet name he knew you hated, “how’s your boyfriend Yunho going to save us this time?”

You rolled your eyes, irritation flaring up. “He’s working on the locks. And for the last time, he’s not my boyfriend, Choi.”

Jongho pushed off the wall, sauntering closer to you. “Could’ve fooled me with the way you two flirt. But don’t worry, I’m not jealous.”

“Yeah, right,” you snorted, refusing to back down as he invaded your personal space. “You’re just annoyed that I’m close to someone who’s not you.”

He chuckled, the sound low and infuriatingly sexy. “Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea.” His voice dropped a notch, his eyes darkening with something that sent a shiver down your spine. “You’re way too fun to mess with.”

You glared at him, your pulse quickening despite your annoyance. “You know, if you spent half as much time focusing on the mission as you do trying to piss me off, we might actually get things done around here.”

Jongho moved even closer, his breath warm against your cheek. “And if you weren’t so damn cute when you’re angry, I might actually take you seriously.”

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way your body reacted to his nearness. “Back off, Choi. This isn’t the time.”

His hand brushed against your cheek, light, and teasing. “Why not? We’re stuck here for a while. Might as well make the most of it, don’t you think?”

You pushed his hand away and crossed your arms over your chest, but you could still feel the contact of his hand on your skin. “Cut it out. This isn’t a game.”

He leaned in, his face dangerously close to yours as you looked away. You could feel his breath on your cheek. “Who said I’m playing?”

His fingers grabbed your chin, making you turn your face to look at him. His eyes were intense, filled with a mix of amusement and something deeper, something that made your breath catch and you panties soaked. “What do you want?”

His gaze flicked to your lips and back to your eyes. “Maybe I just want to see how long you can keep pretending you don’t feel this too.”

You felt your resolve wavering, the air between you charged with an electric tension. “Feel what?”

He smirked, his hand coming up to gently tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “This,” he murmured, his voice low and intimate. “The way your heart races when I get close. The way you can’t help but react when I touch you.”

You shivered, cursing yourself for the way your body betrayed you. “You’re imagining things.”

His thumb brushed your lower lip, tugging it just a little, sending a jolt of electricity through you. “Am I?”

Before you could answer, the door lock clicked, and the door creaked open. You both stepped back, the moment shattered as Wooyoung poked his head in, a cheeky grin on his face.

“Miss me?” he quipped.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. “Took you long enough.”

Jongho chuckled, the tension in his body easing. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s just get out of here.”

As you stepped out of the trap and back into the hallway, the charged atmosphere between you and Jongho lingered.

—————————

The job was finally done. Park Jihoon had been taken down successfully, and you and the rest of the team were back at the bar, celebrating your victory. The tension from the mission had melted away, replaced by the warmth of camaraderie and the buzz of alcohol. The bar was alive with laughter and chatter, a stark contrast to the cold emptiness of the warehouse you had just escaped.

You sat at a table with Yunho, who was recounting a particularly funny story about a past mission. You leaned in, laughing at his animated gestures and witty remarks. Yunho always had a way of making you feel at ease.

Jongho watched from across the room, his jaw tight as he observed your interaction with Yunho. He nursed his drink, his eyes dark with a mix of jealousy and something else, something more primal. He had been watching you all night, his earlier conversation with you in the warehouse still lingering in his mind.

Yunho stood up, excusing himself to grab another drink from the bar. You nodded, smiling as he walked away. As soon as he was out of earshot, Jongho seized the opportunity. He slid into Yunho’s vacant seat, his presence immediately commanding your attention.

“Having fun?” Jongho asked, his tone casual but his eyes intense.

You raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of your drink. “What’s it to you, Choi?”

He leaned in, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “Maybe I want to finish our conversation from earlier.”

You felt a thrill of excitement mixed with the buzz of the alcohol. “Oh? And what conversation was that?”

He smirked, his hand resting casually on the back of your chair, his fingers brushing against your shoulder. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t ignore the way your skin tingled where he touched you. “Still with the pet names, huh?”

He leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. “You like it when I call you that. Admit it.”

You shivered, your body responding to his nearness despite your best efforts to remain indifferent. “In your dreams, Choi.”

He chuckled, his hand moving to lightly trace the line of your jaw. “I’ve seen the way you look at me. It’s not just in my dreams.”

You turned your head, your lips dangerously close to his. “You’re awfully confident, you know?”

His eyes darkened, the space between you crackling with tension. “Why shouldn’t I be? You haven’t exactly been subtle.”

You felt a surge of defiance mixed with desire. “Maybe I’ve just been waiting for you to make a move first.”

He grinned, his hand moving to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing your lips. “Is that so?”

Before you could respond, Yunho returned with a tray of drinks. Jongho reluctantly pulled back, his eyes still locked on yours.

“Everything alright here?” Yunho asked, glancing between the two of you.

“Perfect,” you replied, your voice a bit breathless.

Yunho placed the drinks on the table, his brow furrowing slightly. “Well, if you say so.”

Jongho stood up, giving you one last lingering look. “This isn’t over, sweetheart.” He turned and walked away, leaving you with a racing heart and a head full of conflicting emotions.

As the night wore on and the drinks flowed, you found yourself getting pretty tipsy. Yunho had moved on to entertain another group, leaving you alone at the table, enjoying the music. Jongho saw his chance and returned, sitting down beside you.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asked, his voice a bit huskier now.

You looked at him, your inhibitions lowered by the alcohol. “Maybe I am.”

He smiled, his hand resting on your thigh under the table. “You know, you’re pretty cute when you’re tipsy.”

You felt a flush spread across your cheeks, a mix of irritation and excitement. “And you’re still a pain in my ass.”

He leaned in, his lips almost brushing your ear. “But you like it.”

You turned your head, your lips almost touching his one again. “Maybe I do.”

His hand slid higher on your thigh, his touch sending shivers down your spine. “You’re playing with fire, sweetheart.”

You smirked, your hand moving to rest on his chest. “Maybe I like the heat, Jongho.”

At the sound of his name in your sultry, sensual voice, he lost control. His hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you into a fierce, hungry kiss. The world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you and the overwhelming need that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long.

You responded eagerly, your hands tangling in his hair as you kissed him back with equal intensity. The bickering and tension of the past seemed to melt away, replaced by a raw, undeniable connection that neither of you could ignore any longer. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that matched your own, your bodies pressed tightly together in the middle of the bar. The noise and chaos around you seemed to disappear, leaving just the two of you and the electric connection that sparked with every touch.

Jongho's hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer, and you responded eagerly, your fingers tangling in his hair. Your lips parted, and his tongue slipped into your mouth, deepening the kiss. You moaned softly, the sound swallowed by his fervent kiss.

Nobody in the bar seemed to care or even notice. Everyone was too drunk or high to pay attention to anything but themselves and the beat of the music. It was just you and Jongho, lost in the intensity of the moment.

Breaking the kiss only long enough to catch his breath, Jongho whispered against your lips, “Fuck, I need you. Right now.”

You nodded breathlessly, your heart pounding. “Then fucking take me.”

He didn't need any more encouragement. Jongho grabbed your hand and practically dragged you to the nearest room, his grip firm and unyielding. You followed, your anticipation growing with every step. He kicked the door open and pulled you inside, shutting it behind you with a sense of urgency.

The room was small and dimly lit, but it didn’t matter. You honestly couldn’t even focus enough on what room it was because as soon as the door was closed, Jongho’s lips were on yours again, his hands roaming your body with possessive intent. You responded eagerly, your own hands exploring his muscular frame. 

“You’ve been driving me insane, you know that?” he growled, his voice low and rough. “Always teasing, always playing your fucking little games.”

You smirked, your eyes flashing with defiance. “Maybe you just can’t handle me.”

He chuckled darkly, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “Oh, I can handle you, sweetheart. Trust me.”

He kissed you again, more aggressively this time, his teeth grazing your lower lip. You moaned into his mouth, your hands slipping under his shirt, feeling the hard muscles of his chest. He groaned, the sound vibrating through you, making your knees weak.

His hand moved to your throat, holding you in place as he kissed his way down your neck, his teeth nipping at your skin. “You like that, don’t you? Being put in your place.”

You gasped, the mixture of pain and pleasure sending a thrill through you. “Maybe I do. But you still have to earn it.”

He laughed softly, his breath hot against your skin. “Oh, I will. Don’t worry about that.”

Jongho’s other hand slid up your thigh, under your skirt, his fingers teasing the edge of your underwear. You bucked against him, a needy whimper escaping your lips. He smirked, his eyes dark with desire. He paused, his fingers brushing against your already damp underwear, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Already wet for me, sweetheart?” he mocked, his voice low and taunting. “So fucking needy.”

You only whined in response, a small pout forming on your lips, feeling him so close but not quite where you needed him. His smirk widened, his fingers slipping under the fabric to tease you directly. “Look at you, so desperate. Can’t even hold it together, can you?”

You tried to form a retort, but the words died on your lips as he pushed a finger inside you, rough and demanding. A moan escaped your lips, your head falling back against the wall.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he murmured, adding another finger, stretching you. “Just a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

You gasped, your hips moving involuntarily against his hand. The pleasure was overwhelming, clouding your mind and rendering you speechless. Jongho’s thumb found your clit, rubbing in circles that had you seeing stars.

“Can’t even talk back now, can you?” he continued, his voice dripping with condescension. “All that attitude, and now you’re just a whining mess just from my fingers.”

You could only moan in response, your hands clutching at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. He curled his fingers inside you, hitting a spot that made you cry out.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. “Take it. Take what I give you.”

Your body trembled, every nerve ending on fire. He fingered you roughly, each movement sending waves of pleasure through you that left you breathless and needy. You tried to muster a response, but all that came out was a broken moan. Your brain couldn’t process anything but the overwhelming sensation of his fingers stretching you out deliciously.

“All it takes is a little pressure, and you’re putty in my hands.” Jongho said, his tone triumphant. Normally, you would feel so angry at him for that condescending and arrogant tone, but that was the least of your worries right now. His fingers felt way too good inside you. 

You whimpered, feeling the pressure building inside you, ready to snap. He sensed it too, his movements becoming even more purposeful and intense.

“You’re gonna come for me, aren’t you?” he murmured, his voice commanding. 

“Y-yes,” you stammered, barely able to form the word. “Please, Jongho.”

“That’s right,” he said, his voice a dark promise. “Come for me, sweetheart.”

With a final, expert twist of his fingers, you shattered, your climax crashing over you with such intensity that you couldn’t hold back the scream that tore from your throat. Jongho’s name was a broken cry on your lips, your body convulsing around his hand.

He held you through it, his fingers never stopping until you were completely spent, slumping against him. When you finally came down from the high, he pulled his hand away, his eyes dark with satisfaction.

“See how good you are when you listen?” he murmured, brushing a stray hair from your face. “So much better.” he murmured, then brought his fingers, still wet from your release, to your lips. “Now, clean up your mess, sweetheart.”

Your lips parted, and you took his fingers into your mouth, sucking them clean as he watched, his gaze never leaving yours. The taste of yourself mingled with the lingering taste of him, the act both degrading and strangely intimate.

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice a rough whisper. “Always so eager to please.”

He withdrew his fingers slowly and dragged them to tugged at your lips. The sight in front of him was sending shivers down his spine. Your fucked out look, the way your chest was heaving from your earlier orgasm, the way your eyes were looking at him with that sexy gaze of yours, it was alsmot too much for him. “Fuck, I need to feel that pretty little mouth around me.’’ he continued, unbuttoning his pants and freeing himself.

You glanced down, your eyes widening slightly at the sight of him. He was big, bigger than you had anticipated, and a cocky smirk spread across his face at your reaction. “Surprised?” he teased, his hand tangling in your hair. “Think you can handle it, sweetheart?”

You swallowed hard, your mouth watering at the prospect as you nodded eagerly, already way too fucked out to care about your dignity. He chuckled darkly, his grip tightening on your hair as he guided your head down. You positioned yourself between his legs, your hands resting on his thighs. You started with a tentative lick along his length, earning a groan from him that sent a thrill through you. Encouraged, you took the tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it.

“Fuck,” Jongho hissed, his hips jerking slightly. “Just like that.”

You took him deeper, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked, your tongue working along his shaft. His size was a challenge, but you were determined to take him as deep as you could, to show him you could handle it.

“God, you look so good like this,” he muttered, his voice strained. “So fucking perfect with my cock in your mouth.”

You hummed around him, the vibration making him groan louder. You pushed further, taking him deeper until you gagged slightly, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. He pulled back a bit, giving you a moment to breathe.

“Such a good little slut,” he praised, his words both degrading and arousing. “You love this, don’t you? Being on your knees for me.”

You nodded, unable to speak with him in your mouth. Your hands moved to his balls, massaging them gently as you continued to suck him, the taste of him overwhelming your senses.

“That’s it,” he groaned, his hips starting to thrust gently. “Take it all. I know you can.”

You relaxed your throat, allowing him to push deeper. The rhythm of his thrusts was demanding, and you did your best to keep up, your hands gripping his thighs for support. His praise and degradation only fueled your desire to please him.

“You’re doing so well,” he murmured, his voice rough. “So good for me. Keep going.”

You could feel him twitching in your mouth, a sign that he was close. You increased your efforts, hollowing your cheeks and sucking harder, wanting to push him over the edge.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” he growled, his hips snapping forward. “Take it all, sweetheart.”

With a final thrust, he spilled into your mouth, the salty taste filling your senses. You swallowed every drop, not wanting to waste a single bit, and he groaned loudly, his body shuddering with the force of his release.

When he finally pulled out, you looked up at him, your eyes still filled with desire. He cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped.

As Jongho helped you to your feet, you were overcome with a desperate, whiny need for him. You pressed yourself against him, your voice a breathless whimper. “Jongho, please. I need you.”

He chuckled, a dark, teasing sound. “Look at you, so needy. Didn’t know you could be this desperate, sweetheart.”

You groaned, frustration and desire making your movements frantic. “Please, please. I can’t take it anymore.”

He gripped your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “You think you deserve it after being such a brat?”

“Yes,” you whimpered, your voice breaking with desperation. “Please, I’ll be good. Just… please.”

His eyes darkened with lust, and he smirked. “Since you were so good for me before, I suppose I can give you what you want.”

Without warning, he spun you around and pushed you against the wall, his body pressing against yours. His hands roughly lifted your skirt, tearing your underwear aside. “You’re going to take everything I give you, understand?”

“Yes,” you gasped, your body trembling with anticipation. “Fuck, Jongho. Please.”

He positioned himself at your entrance, and without any further teasing, he thrust into you roughly, filling you completely. The suddenness of it made you cry out, your hands scrambling for purchase against the wall.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he growled, his breath hot against your neck. “Always acting tough, but look at you now. So desperate for my cock.”

You moaned, your body arching into him. “Yes, oh god, yes. More, please.”

He set a brutal pace, each thrust deep and demanding, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “You like this, don’t you? Being used like this. Such a good little slut.”

“Yes,” you sobbed, the mixture of pain and pleasure overwhelming your senses. “I love it. I love it.”

His hand slid up your body, wrapping around your throat and pulling you back against him. “You’re mine. Only mine.”

You nodded as best you could, your mind foggy with pleasure. “Only yours, Jongho. Only yours.”

He increased his pace, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he felt you pulsing around him. His other hand slipped between your legs, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing in tight circles. “Come for me, beautiful,” he commanded, his voice rough with desire. 

The combination of his rough thrusts and his skilled fingers sent you over the edge. You cried out his name, your body convulsing around him as your orgasm ripped through you. The intensity of it left you shaking, barely able to stand.

Jongho didn’t stop, his movements relentless as he chased his own release. “Such a good girl,” he murmured, his voice laced with praise. “Taking me so well,’’ he started kissing your neck, leaving marks all over your throat and nape. 

You were barely able to catch your breath before the pleasure began building again, his pace and the friction against your sensitive clit pushing you toward another orgasm. “Jongho,” you gasped, your voice a desperate plea.

“That’s it,” he growled, his grip on your throat tightening slightly. “One more time. Come for me again.”

The pressure built rapidly, your body responding to his command. With a final, powerful thrust, you came again, your walls clenching around him as another wave of ecstasy washed over you. The sensation pushed Jongho over the edge, and with a deep, guttural groan, he released inside you, his body shuddering with the force of his climax.

He held you there, both of you panting and trembling, the intensity of the moment leaving you both breathless. Slowly, he released his grip on your throat and turned you around, pulling you into a possessive kiss. Your body felt like it was floating, every nerve tingling from the intensity of your shared experience. You sighed against his lips, your exhaustion mingling with contentment.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours. “You okay, sweetheart?”

You managed a tired smile, your voice soft and teasing. “Better than okay. You really know how to wear a girl out.”

He chuckled, his hand gently cupping your cheek. “You’re adorable when you’re all worn out.”

You rolled your eyes, still able to muster a bit of your usual sass. “Don’t get used to it.”

He laughed again, the sound warm and genuine. “I wouldn’t dream of it. But right now, I think you need to get home and rest.”

You nodded, too tired to argue. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

Jongho helped you straighten your clothes, his touch surprisingly tender given the intensity of the moments before. He guided you out of the room and through the bar, his arm securely around your waist. The noise and chaos of the celebration seemed distant, your focus entirely on the man beside you.

As you stepped outside, the cool night air was refreshing against your flushed skin. Jongho led you to his car, opening the passenger door for you with a small, endearing smile. You chuckled a bit at his gentlemaness and got into the car. He closed the door behind you and walked around to the driver’s side. 

Once he was in, he started the car and glanced over at you, his expression soft. “You really are something else, you know that?”

You turned to him, your smile tired but genuine. “So are you, Jongho. Thanks for tonight.”

He reached over and took your hand as he drove. “Anytime, sweetheart. Now, let’s get you home.”

The drive was quiet and soothing, the city lights blurring into a comforting haze. You leaned your head against the window, feeling safe and content for the first time in a long while. 

Despite the exhaustion, you couldn’t help but banter a bit more. “You know,” you said, your voice drowsy, “I still don’t like you calling me sweetheart.”

He smirked, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on the back of your hand. “Too bad. I think it suits you.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re irresistible,” he shot back, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Guess we make a good pair.”

You laughed softly, the sound fading into a comfortable silence as you felt your eyelids grow heavy. By the time Jongho pulled up in front of your place, you were already sleeping like a little baby. 

[danielgold-16]

Golden Till the End

The world had fallen. Cities were hushed under ash-gray skies, buildings crumbled under the weight of silence, and the streets stank of rot. The virus had spread fast. Within weeks, humanity crumbled into panic and flesh-hunger. The infected weren’t just zombies—they were smart. Fast. Cold.

But somewhere in the ruins of a collapsed sports complex, a small flame of gold still burned.

Four Golden Bros remained.

Golden Bro Daniel, his golden kit torn and stained with blood, but his eyes still shining with fire.

Golden Bro Trevor, the quick one, the scout, never without his ball—it kept him sane.

Golden Bro Brody, quiet, the sniper. His golden armband the only color left on his blackened sleeves.

And Golden Bro Herc, their enforcer. Golden chestplate scraped, helmet dented, but unbreakable.

They lived in what used to be a locker room, now fortified with weights, metal bars, and welded goalposts. The sign above it still read:

"GOLDEN TEAM. UNBREAKABLE."

It was more than a slogan now. It was a promise.

Brody raised his rifle from the top of the bleachers. In the courtyard below, a zombie limped, sniffing, jerking like a broken puppet. Its flesh hung like wet rags, eyes milky, jaw twitching.

Trevor passed silently behind him, kicking a rusted can to signal the others. Daniel and Herc emerged from the tunnel, golden armor glinting under the faint sunrise.

“Supplies are down to protein powder and half a bottle of Gatorade,” Trevor muttered.

Daniel clenched his jaw. “We go tonight. Mall district. Full gear.”

Herc cracked his knuckles. “Time to flex on the dead.”

They moved like a team. Coordinated, silent, fast.

Golden cleats on ashphalt.

Golden eyes scanning for movement.

Golden muscles flexed, ready.

The mall was a warzone. Gutted stores, collapsed escalators. A playground for the infected.

They entered through a shattered skylight.

Inside, darkness reigned.

That’s when they heard it.

The chant.

Low. Guttural. Rhythmic.

“...Gold...Gold...Gold...”

Trevor froze. “That’s… our mantra.”

Then they saw them. A group of turned bros. Still in Golden kits. Shimmering with rot. Flesh decayed but bodies jacked, eyes dead but focused.

They had been part of the team. Once.

Now they were twisted. Hive-minded. Controlled by something darker. Not dead. Not alive.

Corrupted Gold.

Brody opened fire. Clean shots. But they kept coming.

Trevor moved like a shadow, using broken benches as cover.

Herc charged, tackling two infected through a jewelry kiosk, fists coated in black blood.

Daniel stood his ground in the center. His golden jersey torn, muscles trembling.

And then—he pulled out the spiral.

The last functioning spiral device they had. Golden. Flickering.

He clicked it.

The golden spiral lit up the mall ceiling. The infected froze. Twitched. The spiral pulsed like a heartbeat.

“Obey the gold.” Daniel whispered. “You’re still bros underneath…”

They shuddered. Some stepped back. Others screamed.

But one—a massive ex-player named Grayden—knelt.

The spiral caught him. Reprogrammed.

He looked up at Daniel and whispered, “Bro…”

The survivors escaped. Supplies in hand. Grayden followed.

He was changed. Still half-infected. But loyal. His golden armband pulsing faintly. A bridge between life and the Gold-corrupted.

“We can still bring them back,” Daniel said. “Not all of them. But some.”

“We build a new Hive,” Herc said, voice low. “Golden. Strong. Resistant.”

Trevor kicked his ball. “Then let’s do it. Bro-geddon style.”

And Brody?

He just loaded another clip and smirked. “Always was a fan of underdog stories.”

In the darkness of the post-apocalyptic world, a new light gleamed—not from fire or electricity, but from the tight gleam of golden kits worn by survivors.

The Golden Army wasn’t dead.

It was evolving.

And it would win.

Even after the end.

‐-----------------

The world may burn. The flesh may rot.

But Gold endures.

Join the ones who will rebuild.

Join the Golden Survivors.

@brodygold @goldenherc9 @polo-drone-001

#goldenarmy #maletransformation #zombieapocalypse #goldenteam #postapocalypticbros #survivaltf #goldenundead #aigenerated #jockzombie #brogeddon #goldendiscipline #goldhypno

[waiting-for-motivation]

jealousy, jealousy

summary: A night out with the wolfpack at 79s takes a turn as the bad batch enters the bar, and a certain sniper flirts with Wolffes medic.

pairings: Commander Wolffe x Reader, Sinker, Boost, Crosshair

warnings: alcohol, unspoken feelings, fluff, cross smokes

words: 1351

MASTERLIST REQUEST RULES

His arm rests on the back of her chair, his fingers play with a strand of her hair. In this crowded bar, they share a few moments alone. Wolffe just enjoys (Y/n) calming presence, while they both keep an eye on his brothers on the dance floor. There is no need for much talking. The night is perfect.

“How is your forearm?“, (Y/n) asks over the loud music and takes a sip from her colourful cocktail. She throws a glance at the Commander next to her. With a grin on his lips, Wolffe rolls up the sleeve of his leatherjacket to reveal a bandage. It‘s clean white.

“Thanks to your skillful hands it doesn‘t hurt at all“, Wolffe answers with a wink and lets his sleeve cover the bandage once again. Two days ago, he stepped inside the med bay with blood dripping from his arm. (Y/n) instantly ran to take care of him, her touch immediately soothing his pain. Now the worry leaves her eyes. “It will soon be only another battle scar to add to my collection.“

There is a sad smile on (Y/n)s lips as she turns her body towards Wolffe, reaching a hand for his face. Out of instinct, he leans backwards but knowing he can trust her, he let‘s her rest her hand on his cheek. Slowly, (Y/n) caresses the bottom of his facial scar.

“I‘m so sorry this had to happen to you, all of this“, she whispers, barely understandable over the loud music. A shiver runs over her whole body as she notices Wolffes delicate touch on her lower back, pulling her closer.

“I‘m not, otherwise I would have never met you“, Wolffe returns with a soft gaze and leans forward carefully. He closes his eyes as they are so close they can feel the other’s breath. For a millisecond their lips meet, but then a loud scream interrupts their intense moment.

“What the kriff are they doing?“, (Y/n) asks confused as she has now turned all the way around to take a better look at the crowd. In the middle are two clones, most likely Boost and Sinker, singing loudly. One is sitting on the others shoulders and waves his shirt in the air.

For a few seconds Wolffe remains the way (Y/n) left him, with closed eyes and an halfway opened mouth. Then he gives his brothers a death glare. “I‘ll get them and you better organise a few glasses of water, love.“

Wolffe will have the boys on cleaning duty for the rest of their lives for destroying this sweet moment between him and his medic. He waited too long for this kiss to happen to have his brothers interrupt it. Clenching his fists, Wolffe pushes through the crowd towards Sinker and Boost, grabbing them by their necks and throwing them on two chairs.

“You two will drink some water and then go back to our barracks, end of discussion“, Wolffe growls at his brothers who watch him with wide eyes. Then, without reason, Sinker and Boost start laughing like maniacs. They can‘t take anyone serious, until (Y/n) returns with two glasses of water.

“As your medic and friend I want you guys to drink this water, please“, (Y/n) says as she places the glasses in front of Sinker and Boost. She bats her eyes sweetly at the two and watches them gulp down their water in one go. Stepping behind them, she places her hands on their heads to get their attention once again. “And apologise to your Commander. I‘ll get some fresh air.“

Wolffe watches (Y/n) disappear in the crowd, then looks back at his brothers who are already planing something foolish once again. While Sinker is trying to balance the two empty glasses on his forehead, Boost stands up to return to the dance floor. Wolffe forces him back on the chair and takes the glasses from Sinker.

“I‘m done with you di’kuts. You are on cleaning duty for the rest of the year and you will take all the night shifts“, Wolffe lets his anger free and takes a seat in front of his brothers. They are silent now, knowing they have done something severely wrong. Although they might be drunk, they can put one and one together. Something did, or more likely didn‘t happen between their Commander and medic.

“I think we cockblocked our Commander“, Sinker realizes and laughs erratically with his brother. Wolffe can only sigh and hide his face in his hands, no longer wanting to be a witness to their stupid conversations. He would rather have different company, so his mind wanders once again to (Y/n), wondering what takes her so long.

Finally stepping outside, (Y/n) takes a deep breath and leans against the next wall, closing her eyes. Although she really enjoys every free second with her battalion, 79s can be a bit too much once in a while. Her peaceful moment gets interrupted by smoke filling her lungs and making her cough. She throws a death glare towards the man, but he doesn‘t seem to mind.

“You know that will kill you“, (Y/n) mumbles, not really expecting the soldier to actually answer her. He is taller than most clones, but his facial features give away his true heritage.

“I don‘t think I will grow old enough to experience that, doll“, the clone smirks with the cigarette inbetween his lips. He walks towards (Y/n), crowding her against the wall. After taking one last long drag, Crosshair crushes the cigarette under his boot.

Lowering her gaze in shame and remembering the clones accelerated ageing, (Y/n) almost awakens some pity in Crosshair. He places a finger under her chin and forces ehr to look him in the eyes. “Don‘t worry, this is nothing new to all of us, but this also means that we can appreciate moments like this more.“

(Y/n) widens her eyes and presses her lips together, surprised by how forward this clone is. A quick look towards his shoulder, reveals a small skull on a red plate. This clone must be part of the famous clone force 99, their sniper at the looks of it.

Before Crosshair can make another move on the girl, another clone exits the bar with a stern expression which quickly forms into a frown. “Hands off, Crosshair!“ Rather slowly, Crosshair removes his hand from (Y/n)s face and turns his attention towards a jealous Wolffe.

“Commander, didn‘t take you for the party type“, Crosshair comments as he places a toothpick between his lips. His gaze moves from the medic next to him to the furious Wolffe clenching his fists. He realizes there is something unspoken between them and his instinct tells him to leave them alone, so he winks one last time at (Y/n) and then enter 79s to join his brothers.

“Cocky di‘kut“, Wolffe mumbles and leans against the wall close to (Y/n). She only throws a disapprovingly look at him, then watches the city in front of them. Why would Wolffe act like that? She was only talking to Crosshair. Maybe the sniper was closer to her than needed, but that didn‘t bother her.

Their shoulder touch, so she can feel Wolffe taking a deep breath to gather his courage. Wolffe steps in front of (Y/n), standing exactly where Crosshair stood a few moments ago. One arm still supports him, his hand resting right next to (Y/n)s face. As Wolffe opens his mouth to confess, he can almost see the realisation in (Y/n)s eyes. She finally understands why he got so angry about Crosshair. Wolffe was jealous.

Without wasting another second, (Y/n) jumps forward into Wolffes embrace and finally presses her lips to his. Both her hands find their place on his cheeks, while he wraps his arms around her, pulling her impossibly closer. They have their kiss at last, and not even Sinker and or Boost could interrupt this perfect moment. They won‘t part that easily now.

taglist: @gwenebear @skippyhopperwisdom @littlemisscare-all

[noforkingclue]

Loyalties Chapter 18 (Tommy Shelby x reader x Alfie Solomons)

Author's Note: so I know it's been a while (very long time) since I've updated this fic. Fucking writers block... anyway, hope you guys like the chapter :)

“You don’t have to come with me.”

“Yes I do.”

“Bullshit.”

“I mean it.”

“No you don’t.”

“I actually do.”

“Ugh, Alfie making you my fucking bodyguard.”

“Got it in one.”

You rolled your eyes as Harry walked beside you. You glared at him but Harry was immune to your glares. Not that they were that powerful to begin with but still…

“You still want to leave?”

The once comfortable silence between the two of you became tense. Harry looked straight ahead and for a moment said nothing. Then he said,

“Rachel is pregnant.”

“Oh. Good for her.”

“I’m the father.”

“Well then, she has shit taste in men.”

Harry gave you a disapproving look but there was no heat behind it. He nudged you playfully and he said,

“Just thinking about the future, that’s all. What’s best for our child. Well,” he trailed off, “getting married first but then… this life isn’t exactly safe. I just don’t know what to do.”

“Alfie’ll look out for you. Y’know that right?”

“I do.”

You sighed as The Garrison came into view, what Harry said weighing heavily on you. You could see some of Tommy’s men outside and you nodded at John in greeting. He returned it before returning to his conversation with Arthur. Harry gave you a confused look.

“Thought you only knew Thomas.” he whispered

“It’s complicated.”

“What isn’t in this life?”

The two of you reached the door and you looked up at Harry. He raised an eyebrow at you as you said,

“It’ll be best if I go in alone.”

“Y/n-”

“I mean it. I know him and I know that he’s not overly keen on-” you waved a hand at him, “-snipers.”

“Well I don’t have a gun with me now,” said Harry dryly, “I can hardly-”

“Trust me, Harry. It’s easier this way.”

Harry grimaced but reluctantly stood aside. He rested against a wall and folded his arms and you smiled softly at him. You gave his arm a reassuring squeeze and he pulled out a pack of cigarettes. You could feel eyes on the back of your head as you entered the pub. You felt bad about leaving Harry outside but you knew that Tommy wouldn’t speak while he was there.

Not that you cared what Tommy thought.

What Mr Shelby thought.

You just wanted to deliver the message and get out and not see his handsome face with his captivating eyes.

You looked around the pub as you walked in. It was strange seeing it so quiet. You were so used to seeing it alive with people laughing, chatting, drinking. Now it seemed almost-

“You’re up late.”

You looked over at Tommy who was behind the bar. He poured you a large whiskey and offered it to you. You slowly walked towards the bar as Tommy poured his own drink. His eyes never left you as you took out a message and put it on the bar. He pushed over the glass as he took the message.

“You’re working late.” he commented as he read through the message

“As are you.”

He glanced up at you, smiling briefly.

“War means late nights.”

“Got used to them in France?”

“I wasn’t talking about France.”

“Oh.”

Tommy skimmed across the rest of the letter, occasionally taking a sip of his whiskey. Eventually he held it out to you. You raised an eyebrow at his action.

“It’s for you.” he said

“Me?”

You took the message and read through it. It was Alfie’s typical bluntness telling you to come back to London but you could read between the lines. Tommy’s earlier comment came back to you and you sighed. Tommy leant against the bar smoking and when you finished reading he held it out to you. You wordlessly took it, your fingers grazing against his. Your eyes locked with his at the small, intimate touch.

“Alfie wants the two of you back.” Tommy stated, lighting another cigarette

“No.”

“No.”

“Just me,” you said, “he wants Harry to stay.”

Tommy’s gaze never left you as you studied the message. You reached for your drink and took a large gulp.

“Have you made up your mind?”

“Hmm?”

“About staying. Here. With me.”

“You act like it’s simple.”

“It is.”

Tommy poured himself another drink and you glared at him. Much like Harry, he didn’t seem overly bothered by it.

“You can’t expect me to uproot my whole life,” you said, “leave my friends and family behind for what? A family that doesn’t fully trust me.”

You could’ve sworn that Tommy’s gaze hardened for a fraction of a second. However, he covered it quickly. You sighed and sat down at the bar, rubbing a thumb against your glass. Tommy’s gaze dropped down to it and you quickly stopped the action.

“You seemed oddly ok with Harry staying,” you said, “I thought you didn’t like snipers.”

“I don’t,” Tommy said, taking another sip of his drink, “ but during times of war it’s good to have-”

He cut himself off and gave you a sharp smile,

“Competent soldiers.”

“Glad you think my brother is competent.”

“I doubt Alfie would’ve kept him around for so long if he wasn’t.”

“Alfie is loyal.”

“Just like you?”

You looked up at Tommy sharply. He gave you a blank look as he took a drag from his cigarette.

“Of course.” you replied

“Even afterI fucked you last night. Is that why Alfie really wants you back in London?”

“Alfie doesn’t control me.”

“I wasn’t suggesting he did.”

“Of course not, Mr Shelby.”

“As you say, Ms L/n.”

You smiled faintly as you drained the last of your whiskey. Immediately Tommy refilled your glass.

“Trying to get me drunk?” you asked

“Of course not. I’d have to get rid of your guard dog outside first.”

“And what if I asked him to leave.”

“Would he?”

“I’m his sister. I know how to get him to leave.”

You stand up and head towards the door. As you do you hear a car pull up. Before you could react, people were shouting and you heard the sound of gunfire. You were vaguely aware of Tommy shouting but before you knew it shots were fired at the pub. You cried out as a brutal, sharp pain rippled through your shoulder. You staggered back, standing in place briefly for a moment, before collapsing back. However, you never hit the floor as Tommy caught you in his arms. You slumped against his chest as he lowered you down. You gazed up at him and said,

“In war, there are always casualties.”

Before everything went black, the sound of gunfire and shouting ringing in your ears.

[b33zlebubz]

RIGOR MORTIS | CHAPTER FOUR

SIMON RILEY X AFAB READER | MASTERLIST | AO3 PREV CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER TAGS: reader uses she/her pronouns, fluff angst & eventual smut, blood violence & death, suicidal ideology, slow burn, enemies to lovers, forced proximity, toxic workplace environment, flashbacks, implied past SA “Abandoned in a battlefield with the one person you thought you would never see again; you're forced to come to terms with the ghosts of your past." far right image made by 661ave

SUNDAY DECEMBER 5TH 2016 NORWAY, 1900 HOURS

There’s someone at the shooting range.

Simon can hear it from his barracks every night for the next few days after landing on base, the muffled pop of a rifle or a sniper for an hour or two before sunset whenever he opens his window to smoke.  He doesn’t think much of it, at first—and the sound quickly becomes a subtle part of his routine for the weekend.  The majority of his time is spent catching up on the rest he lost while traveling, hitting the gym, and nursing sore muscles from the strain of his work in Brazil.  His peace is only occasionally broken up by meetings and briefings with Walker plus a couple other higher-ups on base. 

And, of course, the fucking paperwork he neglected until now.

He sees you a handful of times throughout the weekend.  Usually in passing in the hallway or leaving a room just as he’s entering.  There’s one time where you’re sitting in at a briefing he's in—back straight as a pole, just like the first time you both met, with a knee that bounces as you feign indifference.  His eyes linger on you where you sit, taking in your face and appearance now that you don’t have a heavy coat and a gator to cover you.

You’re blunt, stoic—conditioned for resilience and intelligence as opposed to his deadly strength.  It's quite the juxtaposition against the nervous energy you harness behind a focused gaze and the furrow in your brow that almost seems permanent.  Your fists are bandaged as they clasp paperwork of your own and, from what he can tell, the bruises on your face match the ones that peak out from under your collar.

"Bar fight,"  Walker seems to read Simon's mind, and his attention switches to the Captain at his right.  "Has been a massive pain in the ass the entire time she's been here.  'Surprised the lass still has her rank…nevermind her job."

Simon has read your file.  Walker was reluctant to hand it over, but eventually he caved—and the Lieutenant skimmed through the long list of credentials.  He was right, the list of marks on your record is long.  Your first couple strikes are few and far between, but starting after a week in Camp Viking, you've managed to scrounge up quite the name for yourself on the base.  He notes, with curiosity, that you've started every single one of the fights you were in, but yet you're nervous and almost robotically subordinate around every higher up that so much as looks at you. 

Other than all the marks, though, your file is fantastic.  You're fluent in three languages.  The vast majority of missions you've worked on were successful and you have an impressive amount of experience in Special Forces; particularly in search-and-rescue and stealth work.  Scores on the shooting range are all exceptional but you thrive in hand-to-hand and strategy.  You've done two tours in Korea and, your latest one, in Yemen—all of which you succeeded in what you set out to do quickly and efficiently.  

You're damn impressive, is what you are.

“Wonder what happened,”  Simon speculates half to himself, and Walker scoffs.  

“If you ask me?”  the Captain says.  "She's just gotten too cocky too quickly.”

Simon's gaze flickers back to you.  For all his own arrogance, Simon would still be the first to admit his record isn't spotless, either.  Hell, for months after Roba, his record is tarnished with bar fights and insubordination of his own—all hidden under a nice classified blanket, of course.

He's been in enough close calls and worked with enough militia of all kinds to know that it’s most definitely more complicated than that, though.  Someone of your experience and stubborn resolve wouldn't crumble out of nowhere—no, there was something more going on.

Simon decides he respects you.

You catch him staring often, whenever he does run into you.  Being subtle was never his strong suit, he knows that, and he knows that you know he’s keeping an eye on you.  Either that, or you’re just off-put by the mask; it's hard to tell.  Your interactions don’t go past anything more than fleeting glances across the bar and nods of respect in hallways.

Other than that, though, things are blissfully uneventful.  A much needed reprieve after the chaos of the last few months as Simon adjusts to the new environment.

But he's restless.  Curious.

The cold stings Simon's face as he lingers outside just beyond the door to the barracks Sunday night, lighting another cigarette with a few short clicks of his lighter.  The bite of the cold mixes with the heat of the nicotine as he inhales slowly before exhaling a cloud of vapor and smoke.  It's quiet outside, save for the occasional muffled pop of a rifle at the gun range down the hill that has lored Simon outside.  The sound started earlier than normal, that day.  Whoever was shooting has been outside for nearly four hours now and it's starting to snow.  

He has a theory of who it might be.

So, he finds his feet carrying him towards the range with an intent to talk to the soldier who still remains outside—risking hypothermia to perfect their aim after training hours.  Frozen snow crunches under his boots as he walks, and the cold nips at the dry stubble on his exposed jaw.  He pauses some ways away, catching sight of the figure standing just a few meters in front of him as he tucks a piece of paper in his fist.

Of course, it's you.  You're focused.  The sun halos your figure; drawing a pink-yellow line around where your hair catches the wind beneath your beanie.  His eyes flick over the slope of your jaw, the curve of your nose, the gentle pout on your lip as you squint through the scope. 

Your brow drawn together, he watches you change the magazine in one fluid motion with bare hands numb and slow from the cold—split knuckles rough and scabbed over.  Then, you lift the gun to your shoulder again.  You take a second to aim before firing the weapon with a jolt.  Your shoulder tenses whenever you do, causing the bullet to land off the mark, and you hiss a curse in frustration.

He watches the same routine twice more before he exhales a puff of smoke and finally says something.

“You’re flinching,”  he says, eyes flickering from the hole in the target before looking back over to you.  “That’s why you’re missing.”

You must have sensed his presence a while ago, because you don’t regard him with much more than an annoyed sigh.  It fogs out into the air as you lower your weapon and free one ear from your headset to hear him. 

“I know,”  you reply blankly.  You roll your shoulders before trying again.  The gun fires, missing your target by an inch and a half.  

Simon hums, “wide, again.”

Your brow furrows and you adjust before shooting once more. 

"Still wide."

"Yes, I fucking realize that,"  you whip around to face him and he watches the color drain from your face as you meet his gaze.  Your eyebrows rise as you realize who you just snapped at, and you right yourself immediately.

"Shit, I'm sorry, Sir, I—"

He holds a hand up and you cut yourself off. 

"Don't,"  he says.  "It's fine."

You seem shocked, expecting to get reprimanded.  You purse your lips and nod as if you’re unsure how to respond to him.  Embarrassed, you look away as he approaches, puffs of warm breath leaving your mouth as you glance back to the target—seeming frustrated all over again.  

"How long have you been out here?"  He knows the answer already, but he wants confirmation anyway.

"Four hours."

"Hm."  Simon turns his head to let out a puff of smoke.  "Try again."

You're hesitant, for some reason, but you nod anyway.  You pull the weapon back up and onto your shoulder and shoot twice.  He watches your stance and catches how you wince at the kickback, watches your freezing hands and the way your nose scrunches just slightly when you focus.

He raises an eyebrow, "And this has been going on…?"

"Only for the past hour, sir,"  you reply, reloading. 

"Well, for one…"  he brushes your hand away with his before you can eject the empty magazine and he tilts his head to meet your gaze.  "It's fuckin' freezing out and you've been shooting this thing for hours.  It would stand to reason if your shoulder is a bit sore, Sergeant."

You pull your hand away, defensive.  "I'm fine."

"Your aim says otherwise."  

Your tone hardens.  "I have my orders, Lieutenant."

He blinks at your statement.  "Orders?"

You take a breath, lifting a hand to rub at your sore shoulder.  "My aim has been off, sir.  I have orders to keep shooting until it's fixed again."

He chews at the inside of his cheek at this new information.  "And who said that?"

"Walker, sir."

"Hm."

A moment passes where he just looks at you.  Again, you don't avert your eyes.  You match his stare like you're trying to figure him out just as much as he's trying to figure you out.  

Puzzle pieces slowly start to slip into place.  You're the only infantry woman on the team, the only one who's bruised to hell, the only one he’s seen sitting in silence at the d-fac (if you're there at all), and the only one with orders that have set you up to fail.  Simon nods as he files all that information away for a later date—one where he might be able to corner Walker in his office.  Then, he places his cigarette in his mouth, biting it between his teeth as his fingers hook beneath the gloves on his hands, pulling them off and offering them to you.

"If you're gonna fuck up your shoulder, Sergeant," he says.  "At least stay warm while you do it."

You seem puzzled at his gesture of kindness, eyes flickering between the offered gloves and his mask like you're unsure what to make of the gesture.  Eventually, freezing hands reach out and take them slowly—as if you were afraid he might be tricking you.

"I…can't accept this, sir.  These are yours."

He raises an eyebrow, not that you can see behind his sunglasses.  "Do I need to order you to take them?"

You huff.  It's small, almost imperceptible, but it's another crack in the stoic professionalism just the same.  Your hand wraps around the gloves and you nod your appreciation, finally breaking his gaze.  "Thanks."

He smiles lazily,  "it's no problem, Angel."

You don’t say anything.  Your gaze searches his, and it's impossible to read the emotions that flit past your gaze.  You nod, slowly, wrapping your fingers around the gloves as you accept them.  Satisfied you won’t get frostbite, he hums and turns away.

He feels your gaze linger on the back of his neck as he saunters off—slinging his bag over his shoulder.  The sun sets slowly over the hills as he disappears around the corner.  

A breath of amusement leaves your nose at the skeleton print across your knuckles; wondering about the story behind his get-up.  But there's something else.  A piece of paper, tucked into the glove.  You furrow your brow at it before plucking it out of the fabric, smoothing out the ink.

2100 hours.  Friday.  Drinks on me. 

Your heart seems to stop in your chest at the note, shocked to your core.  Your eyes flicker up to catch his movement at the other end of the range—tilting your head at it as you rethink the whole conversation up until this point.  His motives, his stares, his small act of kindness and words of advice.  Then, you fold the paper up and slide it safely into your back pocket.

You take a breath, reload your rifle, aim, brace your shoulder, and shoot once more.

It's a bullseye.

[macgyvermedical]

For episode explainers, have you done the episode of Psych where Shawn gets shot? S4e9

"...If you could just mail me to my dad's house now, that'd be... that'd be awesome."

I feel like I did this one, or maybe it's somewhere deep in my drafts, but I'll do it again, just for you Anon.

If you weren't watching American TV in the mid 2000s, Psych was a loosely-Sherlock-Holmes-based comedy about a brilliant detective who has severe ADD (as was the diagnosis at the time) which he uses, along with his father's extensive training, to pretend to be psychic.

In this particular episode, he ends up shot in the shoulder and kidnapped by the bad guys of the week, who are halfway through a plan to rob an armored vehicle transporting money between two banks.

So, essentially the big questions for this episode:

Where is the bullet wound exactly and is there a way to get shot in the shoulder that doesn't incur permanent damage?

Would his unconsciousness due to head injury be reasonable?

With said bullet wound and later head injury, would Shawn be able to escape the trunk, run for his life, and later jump between two moving vehicles with the extent of injury he suffered?

Bullet Wound:

So I get at least 2 asks a month that insinuate that getting shot in the shoulder (or abdomen) is some kind of relatively minor injury, and what can be done about them outside of a hospital.

Certainly that's how those kind of injuries are treated in fiction. Just to clear it up, however, getting shot in the shoulder is not only potentially life threatening due to non-tourniquet-able bleeding, but it can also be permanently disabling. Also, barring a shallow graze, there is no bullet-related shoulder injury that can be healed to full function without surgery.

Shoulders are not slabs of muscle- there's a TON of stuff in the shoulder that can be hella messed up by a bullet. These include the subclavian artery and vein, a nerve plexus, the brachial nerve, multiple bones, and tons of tiny little muscles (and also bigger muscles). Consider these 2 pics:

Based on where the blood makeup was applied, it looks like Shawn's wound starts maybe just above his rib cage but below his clavicle (shoulder bone), goes through his scapula (shoulder blade) and exits a little higher up than it entered. This puts him at risk for a lot of damage.

Potential damage includes: torn artery and vein (though unlikely given he did not bleed out where he was shot), injury to the nerve and nerve plexus (unlikely due to the fact that he is using his arm in the next episode), and potentially very bad injury to the scapula.

Duct taping the wound would do nothing for the bleeding without pressure also being applied, and while the guy that shot him was a sniper, likely with some combat first aid training, it doesn't look like he did much in the way of actually trying to stop bleeding.

To repair a torn artery or vein, a microsurgeon would have to literally sew the vessels back together. If they didn't, Shawn would have lost his arm. Or, in the case of injury to the vein, suffered permanent swelling in that arm.

Repairing a nerve is surprisingly more difficult. The surgeon basically sews the sheath around the nerve back together, but the nerve has to reconnect itself. This can take years and years, during which time the arm would be numb and paralyzed.

For the scapula, an orthopedic (bone) surgeon would have to replace all the pieces with either bone cement or fix them in place with metal plates. This would probably be the "easiest" to fix on the time frame in the episode.

Head injury:

When I started this blog 10 years ago, head injuries in fiction were used like they are in this episode- basically as a convenient way to knock someone out without lasting damage. As most of you know by this point, if someone is unconscious after a head injury, they are going to have some lasting damage.

In Shawn's case, it looks like he was out for long enough to move him to a chair and duct tape his wound. Maybe about 5 minutes. That's a fairly long time to be out after a head injury. Maybe not "learn to walk and talk again" but enough that he's going to spend the next few months unable to work, read, or look at screens without a fairly severe headache.

So, like, could this have happened? Sure, but the next episode would have to take place several months later, which I don't think it does.

Action scenes:

Well, Shawn would have trouble here. A broken scapula is going to severely limit movement and weight-bearing capacity on that left arm. He might have been able to run while holding the arm close to his body, but cutting the duct tape in the trunk of the car, texting Gus with both hands, and catching himself after jumping from the pickup to Lassiter's car would have been nearly impossible.

Also he would have spent probably several days in the hospital recovering from emergency surgery, and potentially months in outpatient physical and occupational therapy after a series of injuries like this.

So in conclusion, there was some literary license taken, as there usually is. Hope you liked it!

[neon-junkie]

After Dark - Chpt.1

Summary: Tucked away in a lower level of Coruscant, Crosshair finds himself in a bar that he frequents - not for the drinks, nor the music, but for one woman, and one woman alone.

After months of silent encounters and flirtatious glances, Crosshair finally plucks up the courage to approach her.

Hopefully, she reciprocates his admiration.

Pairing: Crosshair x f!Reader

Rating: SFW (but will end NSFW)

Word count: 2k

Tags: Slow burn, Multi-chapter, Strangers to lovers, Flirting, Drinking, Dates.

Notes: Inspired by After Dark by Mr. Kitty - a favourite song of mine that reminds me of Crosshair.

I've been slowly working on this for a few months, and I figured I should at least post the first chapter lol. Curse depression for killing my motivation to write :(

She's here. Again.

That girl at the bar, sitting alongside her friends, chatting away in between the soft glances in his direction.

Crosshair's local watering hole, sometimes accompanied by his brothers, is a dingy dive bar near the lower levels of Coruscant. It's no 79's, far from it. Fuck that place, with its thumping music, overprices drinks, and hoards of regular clones. The Batch prefer to drink somewhere quieter - Crosshair prefers to drink somewhere quieter.

He's alone tonight, dressed in a crisp shirt and pressed pants, looking far too tasteful for a man who is simply out for a few drinks by himself. He's always been a fan of his own company, secluded in his usual little corner, a half-empty glass of bourbon sitting on his table. Within a couple of minutes, he'll finish the last swigs, and order yet another.

Crosshair never drinks heavily, a handful of doubles, and then he's gone. He'll stay in this bar for, what? An hour? Two at the most? He just needs some quiet time to himself, an escape from the rush of war and destruction, but coming to this particular bar wasn't his choice.

Back when the Batch were first deployed, and they returned to Coruscant after their first successful missions, they celebrated by going out on a bar crawl. Wrecker's idea, and seeing as they were still young and dumb(er), they all agreed to it.

One thing led to another, and they stumbled upon this place by chance. It's quiet, with soft music playing faintly through the speakers, a range of guests who keep to themselves, and shitty decor that was in dire need of a refurbishment a hundred years ago. But most importantly - they serve clones.

The Batch were only meant to have one drink here, one and done, then onto the next bar! Until a group of ladies entered the venue, a particular one catching the Sniper's eye.

Crosshair has never been one to ogle, stare, fantasize, or even crush on another being. Romance is… phah! Not his thing, Wrecker's maybe, and Hunter's for sure. But Crosshair? What's the point? Wasting your time, credits, and emotions on someone who will string you along for a few months, and then dump you out of the blue. Crosshair's cynical mindset has kept him far from ever obtaining a love life.

Everything clicked into place when he saw you, a revealing dress hugging at your body, heels that were clearly new from their lack of scuff marks, pristine hair and makeup, and a cute little clutch bag hung over your shoulder. Yeah, his admiration was noticeable, as his brothers caught wind of it within an instant, and to this day, Crosshair has never lived it down.

Yet, despite all his years of training, and the woes that he had already faced, he couldn't pluck up the courage to simply… walk over to you, and say hi.

Maker, no. An elite Trooper such as himself doesn't have a lick of courage when it comes to intimacy. Or rather, he didn't. Such a thing has grown over the months that Crosshair has spent returning to this establishment, either by himself, or with one of his brothers. Never the whole pack at once, though, as they'd definitely do something to embarrass him in front of you.

But tonight's the night. Crosshair has promised himself that. Even if (when) you reject him, it'll be worth it. He tried, and he can cross 'love' off his list of things to do, and move onto the next thing.

Although, Crosshair is hopeful. He's met your gaze one too many times, flirty glances from across the room, your girls giving you the odd nudge and wink whenever they notice that Crosshair is looking your way. The void in Crosshair's chest burns with admiration after each and every minor encounter, and the butterflies in your stomach dance and flutter just the same way. Such a pleasant feeling for two people who have never spoken a word to each other.

Your girls, like his brothers, are just as eager to get you two finally talking. This must be part of one big plan, as they inform you that they're going out for a smoke, leaving you to continue sitting at the bar, watching their drinks for them.

Just as luck would have it, Crosshair finishes the last of his bourbon, the liquid courage pumping through his veins. He rises to his feet before his brain can really process what's about to happen, and as he approaches the bar, all he does is rest his hands atop the counter as he waits to be served.

He's standing right beside you, yet you're facing forward. If only you'd tilt your head to the right, and look up a little, you'd finally make close contact with the man who's been clouding your thoughts every night. Finally, you do it, looking at him, only for your words to fall flat.

Crosshair flops worse than you do, almost letting out a squeak from his cracking voice. He's nervous, but he puts in an attempt to mask that daunting emotion. "Hey," Crosshair finally settles. No cheesy pickup line, no textbook flirting, just a simple greeting in hopes that you'll at least welcome him into a conversation.

"Hey," you greet in return, matching (or attempting to match) his content demeanour. Crosshair practically shivers at your voice, smoother than any velvet that he's ever felt. And now that he's up-close, he can already feel himself getting lost within your eyes, warm pools welcoming him in, a sight that he wishes to wake up to every morning.

'Get a grip!' Crosshair reminds himself, and plays his second card. "Would you care for a drink?" he offers. It's a little stereotypical, but it makes his intentions clear.

"Only if you let me buy the next round."

Ah! Your tone, the soft sprinkle of sass. Such wit and charm, and you've only said ten words. Crosshair prays that he's met his match, someone just as dry and cynical as himself.

"It's a deal, Miss…?" Crosshair's words trail off, but his question is quickly answered as you give him your name. He nods, repeating it with grace, and then gives his own. "I'm Crosshair."

"That would explain the tattoo," you point out. Crosshair often forgets about it, the stick and poke tattoo right across his face. He wonders if you like it.

"It's my area of speciality," Crosshair explains with a light shrug. "I'm a sharpshooter for the Republic."

"A clone?" you question, and Crosshair has to bite back at hissing at the word. Ugh, don't remind him!

"To some degree," he shrugs once more, then focuses his attention to giving the bartender his order, swiftly followed up by yours.

Attempting to relax, Crosshair perches himself on the stool besides you. "And what about you?" he questions, making light conversation. You tell him your job, as dull as it can be, "but it pays the bills," you explain.

"Mhm, I know how you feel," he hums. Crosshair's eyes wander across your body, not in a perverted way, but out of sheer curiosity. "You always dress well," he finds himself complimenting without a single thought, throwing both of you off.

"Thank you," you reply with a smile. "I can say the same about you. You can't go wrong with a button-up shirt and smart pants."

Crosshair catches himself smiling. "Thanks," he responds, and for once, not with a hiss.

"You're not with your friends tonight," you point out, vaguely gesturing to the empty booth where his rowdy bunch tend to rest.

"My brothers," Crosshair corrects you. "They can be a bit… much sometimes. I enjoy coming here to get a break from them," Crosshair explains, letting his eyes roll in annoyance at those that he secretly loves.

"Is that the only reason why you come here?" you ask with a wink, causing the tips of Crosshair's ears to turn red, and the sea in his stomach to unravel into a thunderous storm. May the Maker help him, because he's starting to realise just how uneducated he is when it comes to feelings.

"You know damn-well that's not the only reason," Crosshair replies with a chuckle. "I simply adore the decor," he follows up, attempting to bring some humour to the conversation. Internally, he's cringing at his poor attempt, yet it's enough to let you laugh.

"Me too," you laugh. "There's nothing that I love more than old furniture that is soaked with alcohol!"

Crosshair laughs along with you, but with every chuckle, his stomach turns deeper with unease. Maker, he's finally here, speaking to you, and who would have thought that you'd be perfect in every way?

Then again, things are far too early for Crosshair to truly know what you're like. Hopefully, if you allow him, he'll discover who you really are within time.

Your drink being placed on the bar top catches your eye, and you don't hesitate to bring it up to your lips. "Thank you again for the drink," you comment after taking a sip.

"It's no problem," Crosshair replies with a soft shrug, helping himself to his glass of bourbon.

"Why don't we try a different bar for my round?" you suggest, which throws Crosshair off guard. This is swiftly becoming an impulsive date, not that Crosshair minds. Then again, does he? He hasn't got a clue what he's doing, but seeing as you're initiating things, he must be doing a decent job. (For now.)

"I'd like that," Crosshair agrees, being careful to use like and not love. Can't be too eager!

The sound of heels clicking against the hardwood floor draws your eyes away from the Sniper, peering over your shoulder to see that your girls have finally returned. They're nattering away as they approach you, not paying any mind, only they stop in their tracks, mouths agape, when they finally look in your direction.

Never would they have guessed that they'd be met by this sight - their friend, who they left to sit alone whilst they went outside for a smoke, is finally sitting next to that reclusive man who she gets giddy just from the sight of.

"Girls," you call out to them. With a hand raised, you gesture to your new-found friend (date?)

"This is Crosshair."

[bonaxie]

Stories and discoveries (Summer of Bad Batch -week 8)

@summer-of-bad-batch

Main prompt: The Data Pad Incident

Alternative prompt: "Do you ever miss it?"

Bonus prompt: Pillow fort

Characters: Echo, Crosshair, Tech, Wrecker, Omega, Hunter

Read here on Ao3

It had been a little over a year now since the Bad Batch had been back together on Pabu. At first, Echo had spent a lot of time with Rex and others, working for the Rebellion against the Empire, but after almost two years, he had finally decided to return to his family, the Bad Batch, full-time. He still lent a hand when Rex needed him, but that was about four or five missions a year.

And if he had enjoyed fighting the Empire, it was on Pabu, with the others, that he felt best, even if he felt like he was doing nothing. And he had felt very guilty about that when he had made this decision.

“You deserve it, Echo.” Rex had said when Echo had confided in him. “I can’t think of anyone more deserving of retirement than you. Your whole life so far, you’ve fought tirelessly. For the Republic, against the Techno Union, for the Republic again and now against the Empire. You have the right to want to slow down. You have the right to want to be selfish and do what pleases you, without worrying about anything else. You have the right to do what you want. You’ve spent so much time surviving, kih’vod, that you have the right to live.”

These words had calmed Echo a little and he had decided to return home, since he finally had a home, with the Bad Batch.

And he’d been living full-time on Pabu for a year now. Life on the island was unlike anything Echo had ever known. Here, there were no battles to fight, no droids to destroy, and no danger around every corner. Instead, there was peace, joy, and time. Lots of time.

For all of them, it took a while to adjust to this radical change in their lives. But it was a change for the better, and everyone was better for it.

Omega finally had the chance to be a normal child, even though she regularly talked about wanting to join the Rebellion against the Empire when she grew up.

Hunter had discovered a passion for fishing and spent hours with the fishermen of Pabu.

Tech was taking time to recover from the injuries he sustained on Eriadu after executing his Plan 99 and was also beginning to develop a serious relationship with Phee Genoa, the pirate (though she preferred the term liberator of ancient wonders) who had introduced them to Pabu.

Wrecker had discovered a passion for crocheting and could spend hours with his yarn balls, crocheting whatever came into his head. He had made a few blankets for his brothers and sister and tried his hand at a sweater or two, but what he enjoyed most was making stuffed animals of all shapes and sizes, which he then sold at the Pabu market.

Crosshair, for his part, had discovered that he really enjoyed cooking. Having only eaten rations or ready-made meals their entire lives, the Batch had never really had the opportunity to cook, and when Crosshair tried it, he found himself enjoying it. But while the sniper loved cooking, he hated having company when he was in the kitchen. To be more precise, he hated it when people commented on what he was cooking, how he was doing it, and so on. He also couldn’t stand cooking with anyone else. He didn’t mind cooking for the Batch all the time, but if anyone ever entered the kitchen while he was there, especially without asking permission, the sniper would disappear at the speed of light and don’t even expect to see him again until the next meal. Fortunately, the kitchen, although open to the room, was separated by a half-height bar, which meant that his brothers and sister could chat with him without encroaching on his territory.

Echo, meanwhile, tended their garden, but hadn’t really found what he enjoyed doing outside of that. He took time for himself, happy to assist his brothers and sister in discovering the freedom they now possessed. He gave Wrecker feedback on his creations, tasted Crosshair’s food when asked, listened to Omega talk about her days at school, looked at the fish Hunter brought home, and accompanied Tech in his discovery of love.

An old Togruta who lived on Pabu long before the Batch had once compared him to a mother. Too busy encouraging her children to find a hobby of her own. Echo hadn’t really known what to make of this remark at first, but in the end, he recognized himself in it, and it suited him.

On this early winter morning, everything was fine. Omega had left for school like every other morning, Hunter accompanying her on the way to the port. Wrecker was on the couch, crocheting dozens and dozens of little tookas. Tech, for his part, had decided not to get up right away. With the temperature getting cooler, his injuries were sometimes more painful, and since he had nothing planned today, he had decided not to inflict the pain that getting up and getting dressed caused him. In any case, to do Force knows what on his datapad, he was as comfortable in his bed, surrounded by countless cushions, as he was on the couch.

Crosshair, meanwhile, was heading toward the kitchen when Echo came in from the garden, a basket of dirty vegetables in his left hand.

“Ah, I was going to wash the vegetables.” Said the cyborg. “Can I do it or do you need the sink?”

Crosshair didn’t respond verbally but critically eyed his brother’s harvest before continuing into the kitchen.

Echo took that as the confirmation it was and went to stand at the large sink, putting the dirty vegetables in and grabbing a brush that attached to his bionic arm.

“Should I put the vegetables away or do you use them?" Echo asked once the vegetables were dug up.

“Leave them there.” Crosshair replied, taking some meat out of the fridge.

Echo nodded and left the vegetables by the sink and then walked out of the kitchen, sitting on one of the high stools, leaning on the bar separating the kitchen from the rest of the room.

“What are you doing for us today?” He asked curiously, watching his younger brother pull out a whole bunch of spices.

“Tiingilar. And yes, I’ll make a less spicy version for those with baby throats.” Crosshair snickered, raising his voice slightly to be heard by all his brothers.

“I’ll point out that those who can’t stand the levels of spice you love to add to your cooking don’t have ‘baby throats,’ as you so aptly put it, by choice. Have part of your digestive system starved and then replaced or simply removed, and you can comment on our so-called ‘baby throats.”’ Tech corrected from his room, the door of which was open so as not to isolate him completely.

Crosshair didn’t reply but smirked. Clearly, he’d been expecting Tech’s remark and wasn’t disappointed.

Echo didn’t respond, lost in thought at what Tech had said. Echo was one of those in the Batch who couldn’t eat as spicy food as the others because of his weakened digestive system. Lola Sayu’s explosion combined with the “treatment” provided by the Separatists had permanently damaged his intestine, leaving him with a gastrostomy and an ileostomy. His stomach hadn’t originally suffered from the explosion, but months and months of starvation had damaged that part as well. It had taken several months of a strict and adapted diet for Echo to be able to eat solid food again, but he hadn’t fully recovered his digestive functions to the level they had been before The Citadel.

Echo was startled out of his thoughts when a piece of potato hit him in the forehead, making him jump. The cyborg blinked and noticed that Crosshair was now chopping said vegetables.

“You’re thinking too hard.” The sniper muttered, still glancing worriedly at his older brother.

Echo chose not to answer but shook his head as if to disturb the bad thoughts and refocused on Crosshair, watching his movements.

And that’s when he noticed that his right hand, his bionic hand, seemed to be bothering him.

“You know Tech can recalibrate your hand in no time if you tell him it’s bothering you. And if it takes more than recalibration, I’m pretty sure he has at least two more prototypes in the works.” Echo remarked.

Crosshair didn’t answer but Echo knew he heard him, so he didn’t press the issue.

“Do you ever miss it?” The sniper finally asked, without looking up from what he was doing.

“Hmm?” Echo inquired.

“Your right hand. And your legs, and the rest too.”

The sniper didn’t elaborate on his question further, but Echo understood completely and took a good moment to think about his answer, knowing it was important to his brother.

“Sometimes.” Echo agreed. “Especially at first, actually. In the few months after Skako Minor, I would often reach for something with my right hand, only to find myself stuck because I no longer had a hand on my right, only a scomp. But little by little, I got used to it and accepted that this bionic limb was part of me. And besides the tactical advantage my scomp gave us during missions, I got used to it and found ways to use it. The scomp is actually very useful for stabbing my beloved little brothers in the ribs, much more so than a hand. And even though it frustrated me at first, I’m glad I didn’t start right away with a bionic hand.”

“Why?” Crosshair asked, frowning. “A bionic hand would have been more suitable to replace the one you lost.”

“True. But my scomp or my bionic hand are not there to replace my old hand identically. Because even if Tech is a genius, it’s very difficult to recreate a biological hand in a robotic version. Prosthetics are there to make life easier and they allow you to find a new normal after an injury, not to return to the way it was before. And in my case it also taught me not to use my right arm too much because with the state my shoulder is in, if I try to use my right arm like my left, I wouldn’t last a week before injuring my shoulder even more. With my scomp I couldn’t carry anything heavy with just my right arm so I learned to do it differently and that’s still how I do it now that I have a bionic hand.”

“Why do you have a bionic hand then if you got used to your scomp?”

“Aside from the fact that I don’t really need to use my scomp as regularly as I used to, the bionic hand allows me to do things I couldn’t do before but didn’t miss since they’re things I started doing here on Pabu. And honestly, I couldn’t see myself refusing this hand Tech gave me as a ‘retirement’ gift. I just didn’t have the heart to say no.”

Crosshair smirked. “I’m surprised he didn’t offer you one sooner.”

“Oh, he did. Two days after you got me out of Skako Minor, when he offered me the first upgrades to all my prosthetics. But after talking with him, we decided the scomp was best suited to the situation, not the hand.”

“So, what you’re saying is that I shouldn’t have had a bionic hand right away?”

“No. What I’m saying is that you shouldn’t expect the same thing from your bionic hand as your biological hand. Having a scomp first helped me make that transition, but just because it worked for me doesn’t mean it will work for you. Just… don’t be too hard on yourself. Losing a hand is a big deal, and it’s normal if you’ve lost some dexterity. But that doesn’t mean we can’t make adjustments if your prosthetic bothers you. I don’t know if it showed but I’ve lost count of the number of recalibrations we’ve done to my prosthetics for them to be okay. It’s a long process to adapt to a prosthetic, and an even longer one to get used to it, but you’re handling it like a pro.” Echo assured with an encouraging smile.

Crosshair didn’t really answer, but he clearly thought about it as he continued cooking. Echo didn’t continue either. He had done his part by sharing his experience, now Crosshair had to think about it and make the decisions he wanted. It would take time, but luckily, they had time.

The rest of the day went well, and in the afternoon, Tech decided to leave his bed and migrate to the living room. Since he didn’t really want to use his bionic leg and wasn’t quite comfortable in his wheelchair for days like this, he simply asked Wrecker to help him move to the couch, which the taller man accepted enthusiastically but gently.

Right after lunch, Crosshair had gone for a walk on the cliffs but had since returned and he, Wrecker, Echo and Tech were in the living room, each going about their business, when Hunter and Omega returned, around 4 p.m.

“Guys, guys, guys, we have to make a pillow fort!” Omega exclaimed, bursting into the house like a fury.

“Good evening to you too, Omega. Glad to hear your day went well.” Crosshair sneered, barely looking up from the holobook he was reading.

“Yeah, yeah, if you want, but we absolutely have to make a pillow fort tonight!”

“What’s a pillow fort?” Wrecker asked, amused by his sister’s excitement, though a little puzzled.

“Lyana told me about it. Basically, you take blankets, cushions, duvets, pillows and build a fort with them! For the base, you can turn the sofa over and use it as a load-bearing wall, but you can also do that with stakes!”

“And what is the purpose of such a construction?” Tech asked.

“Once everything is done, we go inside!”

“At the risk of repeating myself, for what purpose?” The bespectacled brother insisted.

“There’s no real goal, if I understood right.” Hunter interjected.

“It’s just for fun.” Omega confirmed. “Lyana told me that when she makes pillow forts with her dad, they usually watch movies and eat snacks all night. And you can even sleep in it if you make it big enough!”

There was a short silence as the five adults exchanged small glances before Echo nodded. “In that case, we’re lucky that the blankets Wrecker gave us are absolutely enormous.” He agreed.

“Yeah, yippee! Thanks, Echo!” Omega exclaimed, coming over to hug her brother.

“So, what do we need to make a pillow fort?” Tech asked, turning on his datapad to a blank notes page, ready to take notes. In the state he was in today, he knew he couldn’t really participate in the physical construction of the fort, but there was no way he was going to just watch them.

Smiling, Omega began to list all the elements necessary to build a proper pillow cabin. Everyone then got to work, deciding to remove some mattresses from their beds and stick them together and stack them, creating a space big enough for the six of them.

After a while, Crosshair slipped away to return to his kitchen, preparing snacks of all kinds, enough to last the entire night if necessary.

It took them a good two hours, but they managed to successfully build their pillow fort. It was absolutely gigantic and took up the entire living room, making it difficult to even walk through. They hung blankets on the walls and over the sofa, even using a few movable poles to add a bit of height. The floor was padded with mattresses, cushions, and even more blankets.

Once the fort was finished, Omega snuck inside and flopped back onto the large mattress, chuckling. “It’s even better than I imagined.” She said softly, watching the light filter through the small holes in the crocheted blanket that served as the fort’s roof.

“Glad you like it so much, ad’ika.” Echo smiled as he settled down next to the young blonde, half-crawling because he had removed his prosthetics to be more comfortable and at ease.

“It’s a shame you didn’t think to put cushions on the living room door.” Crosshair mocked, moving closer to the cabin.

“On the living room door?” Omega repeated. “Why would we need to put cushions on the living room door?”

“Crosshair, no.” Tech asked.

“Crosshair, yes.” Echo countered. “I have a feeling there’s a good story behind this.”

“Noooo.” Tech lamented.

“I don’t know. Crosshair drawled with a smirk. “Tech, why would we need to put cushions on the doors?”

“Crosshair, if you want to humiliate me, I unfortunately can’t stop you, but there’s no need to push too hard.” Tech sighed, settling into the cabin with a little help from Hunter, so he wouldn’t hurt himself even more.

“What happened?” Omega asked again, excited to know more about her brothers.

“Have you ever wondered where Tech got that scar in the middle of his forehead?” Crosshair said, appearing through the opening of the hut, carrying the snacks with Wrecker.

“I thought it was like the others, a training accident or a battle injury.” Omega admitted with a shrug.

“Oh, but the truth is quite different.” Wrecker chuckled, settling down next to Hunter.

“Let’s just say it’s since the Data Pad Incident that Tech is no longer allowed to use his datapad while walking if he’s alone.” Hunter grinned, ruffling his bespectacled brother’s hair.

“What, you didn’t walk into a wall or something, did you?” Echo asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Right on target.” Crosshair smirked. “Except Tech here didn’t just walk into a wall, no, no, no. He hit himself so hard he passed out instantly, splitting his forehead open, and we found him sprawled on the floor when we returned from the cafeteria.”

Echo, Omega and the others burst out laughing as they imagined the scene.

“At least I didn’t get stuck at the top of a tower because I couldn’t get back down, embodying perfectly a tooka kit.” Tech countered, narrowing his eyes at his brother.

Crosshair stopped laughing abruptly and his ears reddened slightly.

“What, what? I have a feeling there’s another funny story here.” Omega said, interested.

“There’s nothing to say." Crosshair muttered.

“Are you sure, Cross? I seem to remember that too.” Hunter added, nudging his younger brother.

In the end, the Batch didn’t even need to turn on the holo movies they’d planned to have a good evening, instead swapping anecdotes from their younger, or not-so-younger, years. And when Echo started telling stories with Fives, the rest of Domino Squad, and even a few with the 501st, everyone knew they had many more hours to go. And that was a good thing, because no one wanted to move from their cozy, cushioned pillow fort.

[the-most-humble-blog]

<div style="white-space:pre-wrap"> <meta surveillance-anxiety="maximum"> <script>ARCHIVE_TAG="RECEIPT_CHECK_PROTOCOL::CITIZEN_SHAME_CYCLE" EFFECT: supermarket paranoia, trauma recall, public exit hesitation </script>

🚨 YOU PAID FOR YOUR SH*T, SO WHY DO YOU FEEL LIKE A CRIMINAL AT THE SUPERMARKET EXIT? *aka: The Existential Dread of Walking Past the Receipt Checker*

You just survived the hellscape of grocery shopping.

You’ve:

Dodged slow walkers

Side-stepped the free sample snipers

Waited behind the couple scanning 83 coupons

Paid $84.26 for six items and your remaining dignity

And now?

> As you approach the exit, your body tightens like you're carrying a kilo of cocaine and a lie detector.

You KNOW you didn’t steal anything. And yet you feel like a con artist on parole. Like the alarm’s going to beep just to humble you.

🛑 THE RECEIPT CHECK GAUNTLET: A PUBLIC SHAME RITUAL IN 3 ACTS

✔️ Cashier: “Would you like your receipt?” → You say no. Bold. Confident. Free.

✔️ Five steps later: The Exit Goblin materializes. Hand outstretched. Eyes untrusting.

✔️ You: Now fumbling, sweaty, scanning every pocket like a magician with amnesia.

> “Do you have your receipt?” > Do YOU have a warrant, Janet?

🧠 THE PSYCHOLOGY OF SUPERMARKET SURVEILLANCE It’s not about theft. It’s about humiliation just ambiguous enough to seem justified.

They’re not checking your receipt. They’re checking your vibe.

Are you too confident? Sus.

Too awkward? Guilt detected.

Too calm? Clearly a professional.

Breathing weird? That’s textbook deviant.

> You could be holding nothing but gum and sadness, > and still feel like you’re about to be tackled by Loss Prevention.

📉 THE RECEIPT CHECK HIERARCHY OF PUBLIC DISTRUST

1️⃣ The Free Range Checkout (No Receipt Check) You pay. You leave. No questions. > "We have cameras, Karen. Walk in peace."

2️⃣ The Glance & Go (Social Theater) You flash a folded receipt. They nod at the air. > This is roleplay. Nobody’s reading anything.

3️⃣ The Interrogation Table They check item by item. Squint. Flip the paper. > Congratulations: You’re now part of a grocery sting operation.

4️⃣ Costco Gulag Protocol You don’t leave until someone with a Sharpie gives you permission. Lost your receipt? > Prepare to negotiate like you're asking to see your kids again.

🛒 THE SELF-CHECKOUT PARADOX You do ALL the work. Scan your own items. Bag them. Pay like a good capitalist cog.

And then…

> “We still need to check your stuff.” > FOR WHAT?! I was the f*cking cashier.

Meanwhile:

Real thieves: walking out with two carts and Bluetooth headsets.

Employees: pretending not to see while restocking shrimp.

You: being detained over a f*cking granola bar.

> If your security system can’t tell the difference between a banana and a crime, > maybe don’t point it at me.

🧪 THE CONTROL EXPERIMENT: YOUR BODY LANGUAGE ON TRIAL

Let’s be real.

This isn’t just about theft prevention. It’s about training you to prove your innocence in public.

You’re performing calmness.

You’re performing morality.

You’re performing “harmlessness.”

And guess what?

> Even though you bought everything legally… > You still feel like the guilty party in a true crime documentary.

💡 THE ABSURDITY OF MODERN “TRUST”

Stores trust you enough to:

Swipe your card

Enter your pin

Type your f*cking email

Donate to children’s hospitals at checkout

Enroll in their rewards program

But not enough to… leave with a frozen pizza and shampoo without cross-examination?

🔥 FINAL VERDICT — I’M DONE FEELING LIKE A THIEF FOR BUYING TOILET PAPER

I don’t want to:

Justify my Cheerios

Defend my almond milk

Prove my worth as a shopper

Perform innocence for a $3.49 candy bar

> If I paid, I’m gone. > If you stop me, I’m billing for the performance. > If you want me to prove I’m not stealing, give me a badge and a vest, > because I’m clearly doing more work than half your staff.

Let me leave in peace. Or let me profile the real shoplifters. Because I promise you: > It ain’t the guy holding string cheese and shame.

---

🔁 Reblog if you’ve ever walked past the receipt checker like you just buried a body. 💬 Comment if you’ve ever faked chill while your soul screamed “I BOUGHT THIS!” 👁 Follow if you’re ready to abolish capitalist shame theater at the exit door. 🧾 This is not a post. This is the receipt for every time you’ve paid and still felt like a felon.

</div> <!-- END TRANSMISSION [AUTO-FRISK IN: 03:33:03] -->

[bluegalaxygirl]

A Step too far (ZoLu X Reader) P2

Plot: While enjoying a Night of music and relaxation in the aquarium bar a fight breaks out between Zoro and Sanji only this time its worse than ever.

Warning: bad language, Violence, blood and Making out

Inspired by Night Routine. Reader is female , Zoro X Luffy X Reader, established relationship, poly relationship. I really love Sanji so much so i deiced to do a second part, i can't make him the bad guy i'm so sorry.

P1

The door to the aquarium bar bursts open, a gasp leaves your lips as your head shoots up form Luffy's neck where you had just been crying to see Sanji at the door. He was slightly hurt but wearing a shirt that was way too big for him and some sweatpants, his hair was a mess, and he had no shoes on but it was Sanji. The crew look at him dumbfounded before looking at the beaten up man on the floor, two Sanji's? "Are any of you hurt?" Sanji asks looking around the room noticing the beat up body on the floor, his eyes widening before looking at Zoro whose shirt and hands are covered in blood while Robin was restraining him with the help of Franky "I'm gonna kick your ass cook" Zoro yells seeming to be the only one who hasn't noticed the situation until Franky grabs the swordsman head and turns it to look at the door, Zoro's eyes widen as he looks over the panting and rough looking cook that just entered before looking at the body on the floor then back again. Sanji's eyes lock with Zoro's knowing there is only two things that can make the swordsman so mad he would almost kill one of the crew, the cooks eyes turn to look at you and Luffy. "Sanji?" Luffy asks wondering if he was tricked again by another look alike but it seems the rest of you were also seeing what he was seeing. Sanji's eyes seemed to lock on yours noticing the slight fear and tear stained face, anxiety rose in him hoping the other him didn't hurt you. "Oh! Y/N, did he hurt you? i'm so sorry" The cook's eyes widen, but he didn't get too close in fear of scaring you.

"What's going on?" You ask turning your head to look at Nami next to you who seemed to be too shocked to speak then to Luffy who holds you a little tighter sensing your anxiety rise. As the other members of the crew start to snap out of their shock Choppers the first to freak out, jumping up and away form the body on the floor as he looks the two Sanji's over "T-there's two Sanji's?" Chopper yells seeming to make Usopp panic too only to raise his eyebrow in confusion when something sticky and wet starts pooling form under the body. The sniper screams slightly and grabs Chopper before getting away form the now melting body getting the rest of the crew's attention. You gasp along with Nami stepping away form it as Luffy pulls you both away form the pooling white and bloodied red liquid, Brook runs over having to drag Usopp and Chopper way who have backed themselves into a corner. "What's going o?n" Nami yells in anger turning her attention to Sanji who jumps a little at her tone of voice, the cook sighs trying to calm his nerves while rubbing the back of his head "There's a lot to explain, we should stay away form it for now" Sanji then turns to Zoro who's still in shock and a little angry as Robin bends down and places a hand on the swordsman's shoulder "please don't fight" she whispers feeling that Zoro is still very tense.

With everyone in the kitchen you sit on the sofa in between Zoro and Luffy, Zoro still wouldn't let the cook near you but you were grateful for that since you still have no idea what is going on and why Sanji or who you thought was Sanji acted the way he did. Luffy holds your hand giving your knuckles gentle rubs with his thumb as his head lies on your shoulder, the swordsman kept an arm around you while his eyes were glued to the cook who was making drinks for everyone in the kitchen. Before you all gathered in the kitchen Zoro left you with Luffy to get a change of clothes and wash the blood of his hands but even though you felt safe with the captain you couldn't speak as what happened played over and over again in your head. You couldn't help but think what you might have done wrong or if you had said something to make him act like this. "I'm sorry, i should have kept my eye on you" Zoro sighs placing a kiss on your head trying to comfort you, leaning into him you shake your head not wanting him to feel guilty "It's not your fault Hun, maybe i should have said something sooner or not wear that bikini or" Luffy stops you by placing a kiss on your cheek and squeezing your hand while the other goes to your cheek forcing your face to look at him "none of this is your fault, i don't want to hear you blame yourself for something you didn't do" The seriousness in his voice and face made you believe every word.

Zoro nods agreeing with the captain and runs his hand through your hair "It's ok now baby, its over" you try to relax as the two hold you on the sofa, Sanji starts handing out the drinks but stops when it comes to the three of you on the sofa. "Do you want me to leave them on the table?" The cook asks not wanting to overstep, it was so different form the other Sanji but it didn't make you feel any better, Zoro give a nod watching the cook put the drinks down on the coffee table next to Luffy then backing away to sit at the dinning table with the others. Luffy handed you and Zoro your drinks before taking his own, the hot cup of tea felt nice in your cold hands, it was still warm outside but after everything that happened you felt tired and cold. "So what's going on?" Nami asks leaning back in her chair as he looks over at Sanji hoping to now get an answer from the cook, Sanji took a quick sip of his drink before putting a cigarette in his mouth and lighting it. "As i was shopping on the island we were at yesterday there were a bunch of guys trying to drag a lady away so i got involved, one of them stabbed me with a needle though and i passed out." The cook rubs his shoulder where he must have been injected, it was most likely a sedative. "When i came too i was in a strange room attached to a chair, next to me was a white thing... it looked like a man but had no features or clothes." Usopp, Brook and Chopper hold onto each other as they slightly panic "A ghost?" the three yell earning a laugh form Sanji but a angry glare form Nami making the three stop their yelling.

Sanji takes a drag of his cigarette before continuing "No it wasn't a ghost, i honestly don't know what it is, but they took some of my blood and injected it into the thing. It changed to look exactly like me, it took my clothes and my stuff before a bunch of men came in" Robin nods her head and puts a finger on her chin "Its most likely some kind of clone, it looks and acts like you but what it did in the bar wasn't like you at all" Zoro growls at this wondering if the clone did and said stuff that the real Sanji is too scared to do, looking up at the swordsman you understand what he's thinking but you place your hand on his leg and rub it slightly trying to calm him down. Zoro sighs hating how your trying to comfort him while he should be doing that for you so he takes your hand and brings it to his chest holding it over his heart, you can't help but smile when his eyes meet yours. The boy's heart beats always has a way of calming you down, feeling his heart beat against the palm of your hand helps you to relax a bit before turning your attention back to the table. "How did you get out?" Brook asks sipping on his tea earning a long sigh from the cook who runs his hand through his messy hair, "After the drugs wore off i managed to fight my way out of there and find some clothes, when i got to the dock and sore the Sunny gone i... I stole a boat"

Sanji didn't seem to happy about having to steal but a small smile on Nami's face cheered him up a bit. "if it's a clone then why did it act like that in the bar?" Chopper sits back pondering but the question makes you grip your cup tighter, Luffy lifts his head off your shoulder to check if your ok as the room goes quiet. Sanji's eyes turn to you, he hated not knowing what happened, but he also didn't want to force you into saying it or listening too it "I'm sorry for what ever happened, what ever it did i-i would never do" The cook bows his head at you hoping you won't think bad of him but after seeing Zoro and Luffy both pissed and his bloodies and battered clone on the floor made him think of all the worst things possible. Looking up form the floor you scan the cook, you wanted to say it was ok but you couldn't speak, not to him and not right now. Zoro squeezes your hand thats on his chest while kissing your head trying to comfort you, Luffy sighs and leans back against the sofa "It wasn't you Sanji" The captain speaks getting everyone's attention, with slight anger in his eyes Luffy leans forward resting his chin on his fist "I don't like people messing with my crew" Looking over at Luffy you sigh knowing your all probably going to get into another fight with pirates or something, Zoro lets out a small chuckle along with Robin and Franky but Usopp stands up form his seat "w-wait, we're going after these guys? what if they make clones of us too?" The sniper freaks out a bit but Sanji places a hand on his shoulder and shakes his head.

Nami stands from her seat moving some hair out of her face "We'll set off tomorrow for now can someone please clean up the mess in the bar. I'm heading to bed" The Navigator sighs before looking at you "You should get some sleep too" Nami gives you a small smile before she walks out of the kitchen soon followed by Franky, Usopp and Chopper who go to deal with the mess in the bar. Luffy smiles glad that everyone is on his side but turns his head to you hoping your ok with this, placing your hand on his cheek you lean in and place a kiss on his cheek making him smile wider. Robin stands and pats Brook on the back before pointing to the door, a subtle way of telling him to leave the four of you to talk. After the two leave Zoro rubs your arm before turning his attention to Sanji who stands at the other side of the table while rubbing his arm. "It's ok if you don't want to talk about it but... I'd like to know what i did... i mean i know its bad since you beat shit out of it Zoro" A nervous laugh escapes the blondes mouth as his eyes stare at the table in front of him, looking at the cook you can tell he's upset and worried, so different form the Sanji that wouldn't let you go. "You acted a little weird at first but over the day it just got worse" You sigh feeling Zoro squeeze your hand and pull you closer to him, Luffy rubs your leg as he looks up at Sanji. The cook sighs and sits down hoping to know more than that, but he doubted it since your eyes were welling up with tears again.

Zoro turns his attention to the cook "You were very handsy, touchy and affectionate even when Y/N said no, even though Luffy raided the pantry last night you refused to feed him snacks and became overly snappy when he asked for food." The swordsman explains making the captain pout and lean back "In my defense the pantry wasn't locked" you can't help but laugh at Luffy who crosses his arms over his chest and pouts like a child, Sanji raises an eyebrow knowing he always locks the pantry after dinner so for it to be unlocked was so unlike him. "What happened in the bar?" Sanji asks his eyes meeting your for the first time, you felt a lot better about things now, it finally sinking in that the person who made you feel so bad wasn't Sanji. "I was making Luffy's drink and you came over. You - it helped me but then it started making suggestive comments and... when i brought it up it acted so nice and i though you understood but then you grabbed me and-and pushed me against the wall...." Covering your mouth with your hand you try not to cry again, it was scary what happened and the fact that you were too scared and frozen to yell or push him off until it went way too far made things worse. Zoro places his hand on your cheek and guides it to his chest where you cling to him, Luffy stretches his arms out to wrap around the two of you while placing his chin on your shoulder "Its all over now Y/N, it's ok" The captain tries to comfort you as Zoro strokes your hair and kisses your head.

Sanji shakes as he listens and watches your reaction, he would never dream of doing that to you or any other girl, he never wants to make any girl feel uncomfortable or scared of him. Standing out of his seat the cook makes his way around the table earning a glare form Zoro since he didn't want him to get too close but to everyone surprise Sanji gets on his knees and bows with forehead touching the floor. "I'm so sorry Y/N, please forgive me" Sanji yells as he grits his teeth, your eyes shoot open at his words, Luffy smiles down at the cook knowing that you and Sanji both need this so when Zoro goes to yell at the blonde Luffy places a hand over swordsman's mouth. Sitting up you wipe your tears off your cheeks while looking down at the cook, "I-it wasn't you though" you sniffle a little but Sanji shakes his head staying where he is "I don't matter, someone who looked like me did that to you and i'm so sorry." Reaching a shaky hand out you place it on his head, but he didn't move or look up at you, relief washed over you no longer feeling scared of your friend and crew mate "it's ok... I think i just need space for a little while" You sigh pulling your hand away as the cook lifts his head up slowly as not to scare you, a smile appears on his face as he nods "Of course" The cook stands and steps back making Zoro finally relax, Luffy pulls his hand off Zoro's mouth before standing "Hay Sanji... can i have a snack?" The cook lets out a chuckle at his captain and nods heading to the kitchen.

Zoro pulls you back into him by your waist and kisses your neck "You ok baby?" The swordsman asks as you relax into him and put your feet up on the sofa "Yea hunk... thank you" turning you put your hand on his cheek to lift his head up form your neck so you can place your lips on his, Zoro smiles into the kiss as Luffy flops into the sofa next to you. Pulling away you gently rub your thumb over his cheek before turning to your captain only to see his not too happy face. "Next time just tell me if somethings wrong" You sigh and nod your head but the slight pout and angry look remains on his face "that goes for you too Zoro" The swordsman jumps a little and rubs the back of his head, its rare for him to be scolded by his captain so when it happens he knows he's in the dog house. "Sorry" you and Zoro say in unison as Sanji comes back over with a tray of cakes, he places them on the coffee table making sure to keep some distance between you and him before bowing "I'm gonna lock up and then head to bed, do you need anything before i do?" The cook asks looking over the three of you, Zoro lets a cocky smile show making Sanji sigh knowing exactly what the swordsman wants so heads off into the pantry. After locking up the cook hands a large bottle of sake to Zoro before heading out the kitchen "Good night" Luffy yells out while stuffing his face full of cake and Zoro drinks his sake. Leaning into Zoro you let out a relaxed sigh as his arm goes around your waist, Luffy leans back into you and holds up a cupcake "You want it?" The captain asks with a big smile.

Smiling back you lean forward and lick the frosting, Luffy watching your every move with a smile, your acting more confident now that things are over, and he's loving it. You go to lick the frosting again when the captain pulls the cupcake away form you watching as you raise an eyebrow at him, Luffy puts the cupcake down before turning to you and crashing his lips onto yours, his tongue licking your lower lip before trying to shove it into your mouth. The sudden forceful kiss catches you off guard but you soon relax into it and open your mouth for him while letting out a small hum of satisfaction, Luffy smiles into it turn his body, so he can straddle your lap deepening the kiss. Zoro lets out a laugh after taking a drink of Sake enjoying the sight of his needy captain, the swordsman leans down and places kisses on your neck and shoulder while his hands go to Luffy's hips pulling him closer to squish you in between them. Your hands glide up to Luffy's chest pushing slightly to tell him you need air so the captain parts his lips from yours leaving a small string of saliva between the two of you as you both pant. Zoro smiles removing his head from your neck to look at your red faces before running his hand up his captains side and to his cheek pulling him in for a kiss, their lips meet but with both of them being eager their lips part to let their tongues meet. With the captain leaning over you to get to Zoro your face to face with the scar on his chest, you can't help but give it a light kiss making your captain moan a little so you keep going giving the large scar light long kisses.

Zoro groans into the kiss letting his tongue get pinned down for once by the needy captain whose hands are now in the swordsman's hair keeping their lips together as if it was his life line. Luffy soon pulls away panting but keeping their faces close trying to calm his breathing down from the long make out session and the way your kissing his chest. You didn't stop kissing the captain's chest even when he leaned back a bit to look down at you with a large smile, Zoro lets out a small laugh taking another drink of Sake before placing a hand under your chin and forcing you to look up, moving you to the side slightly the swordsman leans down and places a kiss on your lips before biting your lower lip. Opening your mouth Zoro's quick to crash his lips onto yours shoving his tongue into your mouth and running it over yours as his arm holds you in place, Luffy leans down and kisses the front of your neck since its well exposed making you hum. Reaching your hand up you run your fingers through his green hair before gripping it slightly so you can lean up and into the kiss moving your tongue to try and dominate a little, Zoro groans at this liking your confidence, but he wasn't going to let you win. Luffy pulls away form your neck seeing the two of you fighting for control, the captain leans over to Zoro placing kisses on his neck before biting his sensitive spots hoping to give you a helping hand. The swordsman grabs Luffy's hair trying to pull him off but it doesn't work especially when the captain bites just the light spot earning a moan, taking the opportunity you manage to take control shoving Zoro's tongue back into his own mouth as you explore his.

After a while of making out you pull away with a smile and panting for breath, Luffy pulls away too laughing at Zoro's bright red face before wrapping his arms around the two of you "That was fun" The captain laughs as he looks down at you, nodding you lean up and kiss his cheek "Thanks for the help captain" you whisper in his ear earning a laugh, Zoro groans and runs a hand over his face before grabbing his bottle of Sake and taking a big drink "I hate you both" The swordsman mumbles after shaking his bottle a little getting annoyed that its empty already, Leaning back against him you let out a giggle "You enjoyed it, just look at your face" reaching up you touch his red and flaming hot cheek, Luffy nods agreeing with you before getting off your lap, so he can lay in between your legs and place his head on your chest "You look so cute when all red" Luffy laughs earning a groan and a glare form Zoro "I love you Zo" The captain looks up with a smile as the swordsman sighs throwing his head back and putting his bottle down to wrap his arms around the two of you "Yea.... I love you too my captain" The swordsman sighs, Luffy shifts his eyes to you before nuzzling into your chest "I love you muffin" your heart almost skips a beat at the nickname but you run your hand thought his hair and down his back "I love you too my king" placing a kiss on his head you look up at Zoro who still has his head thrown back with slightly red cheeks "I love you Hunk" The swordsman finally looks at you his eyes meeting yours "I love you too baby" leaning down he places a kiss on your temple lingering a little to saver the moment.

[ltash]

Shrouded in darkness

Warning: 18+, very dark themed, mentions of s*x, m*sturbation, m*rder and bl**d.

Episode 1:

"We all have a monster within; the difference is in degree, not in kind."

Douglas Preston

Darkness fell on the streets of London, casting long shadows over its bustling nightlife. A row of six sleek, black cars stood in front of a lavish hotel, their polished exteriors gleaming under the streetlights. Suited men emerged from the vehicles, their presence exuding power and importance as they moved toward the grand entrance, where an exclusive auction was in progress.

In the adjacent building, hidden in the shadows of an upper floor, Ghost waited. His sniper rifle was mounted on a tripod, its barrel aimed at the hotel entrance. A cigarette glowed faintly between his fingers, the smoke curling upward and dissipating into the night. His phone buzzed softly, a message from Laswell lighting up the screen.

"Is it done?" she had texted.

"Pending," he replied, his eyes never leaving the scope.

"Make it quick," came her terse response.

The minutes turned into hours as Ghost maintained his vigil, the cold night air chilling him to the bone. He remained patient, every sense honed, every muscle coiled and ready to strike. Finally, the doors of the hotel swung open, and the suited men began to spill out. His finger moved to the trigger, poised for action.

Among the exiting guests, the mafia boss appeared, flanked by his entourage of guards. He mingled with the departing crowd, his movements casual yet guarded. Ghost's gaze tracked him with relentless focus, waiting for the perfect opportunity.

Time seemed to slow as the target's head came into view, framed perfectly within the scope. Ghost took a steadying breath and squeezed the trigger. The silenced shot was a whisper in the night, but the impact was instantaneous. The bullet struck the mafia boss's skull, splintering bone and sending a crimson spray into the air. Screams erupted from the crowd, a symphony of panic and terror that echoed through the night.

"See ya in hell, bastard," Ghost muttered under his breath.

With swift efficiency, he dismantled his rifle, the folding mechanism allowing it to be quickly stowed in his backpack. He moved with practiced ease, descending the building and slipping into the shadows of the street below.

As he blended into the dark alleys, his phone buzzed once more. He pulled it out, glancing at the screen before typing a single word: "Done."

He sent the message to Laswell and pocketed the phone, disappearing into the night. The chaos of the evening slowly began to settle, the screams fading into the background noise of the city. For Ghost, it was just another mission, another enemy eliminated in the silent war he fought from the shadows.

The bar stood in the corner of a dimly lit street, a haven for those seeking refuge from the city's chaos. Ghost pushed open the heavy door and entered, his presence causing a brief lull in the low hum of conversation. He made his way to the bar, his movements deliberate and unhurried.

"Two fingers of bourbon," he ordered, his voice low and gravelly.

The bartender nodded, pouring the amber liquid into a glass and sliding it across the polished wood. Ghost took the glass and downed the bourbon in one swift motion, the burn a familiar comfort as it coursed down his throat.

His gaze shifted, sweeping over the room. He noted the clusters of people, the casual banter, and the occasional bursts of laughter. But it was the women who caught his attention. Their dresses clung to their curves, accentuating the swell of their breasts and the roundness of their asses. The sight stirred something primal within him, and he felt his cock twitch in response.

Under the mask, his tongue flicked out to wet his lips, a small, almost subconscious gesture. He leaned back against the bar, allowing himself a moment to indulge in the simple pleasure of watching, his thoughts momentarily drifting from the weight of his mission.

It had been a long time since he had fucked a woman. His sexual desire was at its peak, and he found himself jerking off in the shower every other day just to extinguish the relentless flames.

"Fucking Hell!" he cursed under his breath, the frustration evident in his tone.

After leaving Task Force 141, Ghost had become a mercenary, a lone wolf who killed for money. The change had been necessary, a way to escape the rigid structure of military life and the haunting memories that came with it. But the solitude of his new existence brought its own challenges. The thrill of the hunt, the cold efficiency of his kills, provided a temporary distraction, yet they did little to satisfy the deeper, more primal needs that gnawed at him.

Ghost's eyes continued to roam the bar, lingering on the women who seemed oblivious to his presence. He imagined their bodies pressed against his, the softness of their skin, the heat of their breath. His cock twitched again at the thought, a reminder of his pent-up desires.

Taking a deep breath, he shook off the distraction and signaled for another drink. He knew better than to let his guard down completely. In his line of work, vulnerability could be fatal. Yet, as he sipped his bourbon, he couldn't help but wonder if, somewhere amidst the chaos of his life, there might be a fleeting moment of connection, a chance to feel something more than just the cold steel of his weapons and the blood of his enemies.

Ghost escaped the bar, his mind still clouded with unfulfilled desires. He went straight to the hotel provided by the CIA for his mission. The dimly lit room was a stark contrast to the noisy bar he had just left. He entered, closing the door behind him with a sense of relief.

He took off his shoes, placing them neatly to the side. Methodically, he removed his backpack carrying the sniper rifle and carefully placed it back in its case. The case was shaped like a guitar with an actuall guitar on top and the sniper snuggled in the hidden compartment under the guitar.

Each movement was precise, almost ritualistic, a stark reminder of the life he led.

In one swift motion, he pulled off his hoodie and tossed it aside, leaving him in only his sweatpants. He exhaled, the tension of the night beginning to dissipate. He slid off his sweatpants, followed by his mask, and approached the mirror.

He stared at his reflection, his face partially obscured by the faint light. The man staring back at him was a stranger, hardened by years of violence and solitude. His eyes were cold, yet somewhere deep within them flickered a spark of the humanity he tried so hard to bury.

Ghost's muscles were taut, his body a testament to the rigorous demands of his profession. He traced a scar on his abdomen, a souvenir from a mission gone wrong, and felt the familiar pang of memories better left forgotten.

For a moment, he allowed himself to be vulnerable, to acknowledge the man beneath the mask. The man who, despite his lethal skill set and unwavering resolve, craved something more than the endless cycle of violence. He shook his head, trying to dispel the thoughts that threatened to unravel him.

After Johnny's death and Captain Price's execution of Shepherd, the once formidable task force fell apart, scattering its members to different corners of the globe. The bonds forged in battle were strained by grief and betrayal, leaving them isolated in their own ways.

Captain Price and Gaz still maintained contact with him, though their conversations were laced with a sense of loss and the weight of their past. Gaz remained in the military, his dedication unwavering, a soldier to the core. Price, however, had receded into the shadows, a ghost of his former self, burdened by the decisions he had made.

For Ghost, the dissolution of the task force marked a new chapter in his life. The skills honed in countless missions were now employed in a different capacity. The CIA, particularly Laswell, recognized his unparalleled prowess as a sniper and his ruthlessness as an asset. He had become their go-to hitman, tasked with the most difficult and high-stakes assassinations. His name was whispered in the corridors of power, a shadowy figure who dealt in death with clinical precision.

Laswell knew she could rely on him. Ghost operated with a detached efficiency, the memories of his fallen comrades and the betrayal that tore them apart fueling his drive. Each mission was a means to an end, a way to channel his rage and grief into something productive, something that gave him purpose in a world that had stripped so much away from him.

Despite the solitary nature of his work, Ghost was always connected to the remnants of his past. The mission in London was just another night in a series of endless assignments, each one blending into the next. But as he stared at his reflection, the man behind the mask, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was more than just a tool for the government. He was a survivor, a warrior carrying the weight of his lost comrades, and a man still searching for his own redemption.

All these thoughts and then the thought of you, your infectious smile, the way you sat on your knees for him, his pretty little thing, the way your lips wrapped around the girth of his veiny cock, haunted him. He stood in the shower, water cascading down, wetting his brunette hair with blonde highlights, flowing over the hardness of his chest all the way down to his erect cock. He took it in his hand, memories of your tongue stroking his length flooding his mind.

His breath grew faster as he began to stroke himself, the sensations mingling with the phantom touch of your hands. He remembered the way he used to fuck you so hard, pinning you down on the bed, your cries of pleasure echoing in his ears. His pace quickened, driven by the raw need that consumed him.

Then, the memory shifted. Your smile twisted into the gurgle of blood as you choked after being shot in the chest, your eyes closing for the last time in his arms. "Fuck!" he cursed, the pain of that moment as sharp as ever.

He reached his climax, his cock twitching as pearly liquid oozed out, mixing with the warm water of the shower. The release brought no relief, only a hollow emptiness. He placed his hands on the cold tiled walls, his thoughts returning to his young sergeant who had loved him so fiercely.

But she was gone, taken too soon. She had become a dead flower, wilted and lost forever. Everything that came into contact with him seemed to rot, and she had rotted away in his arms, her life extinguished while he could do nothing. The weight of his guilt and sorrow was a constant burden, one that even the rush of battle and the heat of passion could not erase.

[wineassassin]

A BRIEF SUMMARY OF THIS BLOG, THIS PREMISE, AND THIS CHARACTER. many aspects and concepts are directly taken from or inspired by robert ludlum's the bourne trilogy as well as the bourne franchise, but this blog does not exist in that canon. ideas for this blog may be taken or inspired by these pieces of media, but are not directly tied to them in any way, and all credit goes to the original creators.

OPERATION: TREADSTONE is a top-secret black ops organization designed to recruit, train, and deploy hitmen. the program was created secretly in response to three executive orders forbidding the united states from permitting or partaking in assassinations. the program is a joint operation between the american CIA and the british SIS.

this covert operation utilizes a forbidable, highly-trained group of assassins stationed across the globe who present themselves as average citizens hiding in plain sight. these assassins, or ASSETS, act almost like sleeper agents, maintaining a facade of normalcy and existing as casual civilians until summoned into active duty.

assets are given cover professions, intense training, handlers to guide them through missions, and all the tools and information necessary for travel, reconaissance, espionage, and the eventual elimination of their dangerous targets.

after acquiring his english language and literature degree at the university of oxford, sebastian moran entered the british armed forces in 2012 and subsequently completed specialist weapons school, as well as the british army sniper operator's course. in 2020, he left the military and was approached by representatives from OPERATION: TREADSTONE. they were interested in recruiting him due to his proficiency with long range weapons. he was quickly trained as an asset and now operates primarily within their guidelines.

with the guidance of his handler/logistics coordinator, emily kelso, sebastian has become one of the more successful assets within OPERATION: TREADSTONE.

sebastian moran was given a cover profession upon entering the organization that best aligned with his skills, level of knowledge, and field of study when attending university. he became an english literature professor at the queen mary university of london and now teaches two classes: 1) shakespeare: the play, the word, and the book, and 2) renaissance drama. MI6 has rigorously fortified his credentials to prevent the possibility of blown cover.

when sebastian is not on missions, he can be found at his flat on ladbroke road in london, at the local wine bar, or on campus teaching classes or holding office hours for students. he does travel for work and/or for pleasure, so he can also be found wandering rooftops or exploring the local food scene of a new town or place.

[gloryundimmed]

02, 03, 10, and 28 for Kai (can also be for James if you want to hehe)

A Closer Look

02. bag/purse.

Kai:

Kai doesn’t carry around a bag unless he’s on a hit. He does, however, have a custom black leather biker jacket with several hidden pockets that takes the place of a bag. In that, he’ll usually carry a set of throwing knives, maximum strength painkillers (opiates) in case he gets hurt, his hand gun, bullets, his phone, his wallet, a pack of cigarettes, packets of lube, condoms, and his lighter.

If he has a hit, he’ll carry a black duffel bag which contains various weapons (sniper rifle, shot gun, anything else he may need) plastic tarps, zip ties, and cleaning supplies.

James:

He has a briefcase he carries with him during trips or when he goes to a business meeting. In it, he has a variety of pens, his laptop, and legal notepad. He’ll carry his phone and wallet in his suit coat jacket’s inner pockets.

03. car trunk.

Kai:

In his 1969 Thunderbird, his trunk holds a LOT of things. In the regular compartment, he has a blanket for stargazing or if he happens to sleep in his car, a snow/ice brush, emergency tools, and a flashlight. The trunk has a fake bottom which hides/separates those two items from all sorts of illegal things. In the hidden compartment, he keeps his various guns and ammo, a stock of drugs to sell or for his own consumption, a heavy duty med kit, towels, bandages, tarps, and cleaning supplies. It’s basically where he keeps all of his work items because he moves around so often it doesn’t make sense to unpack it all or bring it into his new place unless he uses it all the time. Also lube and condoms for… obvious reasons.

James:

Typically, James is chauffeured around. On the rare occasion where he drives, he keeps minimal items in his trunk. Maybe a towel, blanket, emergency tools, flashlight, and first aid kit. General car stuff.

10. pantry.

Kai:

Because Kai usually eats out or makes microwave meals, he doesn’t keep a lot in his pantry, and it’s mostly empty. Depending on the country he was in, he’d have different items, too. If he was in America, it would have some instant ramen, bread, peanut butter, pasta, tomato sauce, chips, granola bars, nuts. If he was in an Asian country, it would have rice, various regional snacks, protein drinks, and bread.

James:

James has a huge pantry that has everything anyone could ever need. He has a personal chef, so he doesn’t enter the pantry often unless the chef takes the day off for some reason, which is very rare. So yeah, just picture it having pretty much everything.

28. five most recent sent text messages.

Kai:

[Text to Mafia Boss]: if u want it done right, if u want to send a message so no one steps out of line again, i can make that happen, easy

[Text to Hot Girl From Party]: how about u come over tonight? i’ll make it worth ur while 😜

[Text to Heroin Dealer]: get the shipment in today? when can i pick it up?

[Text to Someone’s Hateful Ex]: i’ve followed ur ex and determined their movement patterns. they’ll be taken care of as soon as i get ur payment

[Text to Bartender Friend]: how’s the selection looking tonight? any hotties? should i come out?

James:

Answered here.