#Damage Control

[nocontextspiderman]

Damage Control #1 (1989)

[kooppss]

Damage Control

Sexy Disasters With Feelings masterlist

You and Jungkook try to navigate the aftermath of last night's mistakes. But what exactly was the mistake? Chances are, both of you have different answers.

warnings: cursing, mention of alcohol, mention of sex.

word count: 3.1K

a/n: Are we even surprised it took this long? This one’s a bit shorter because I wanted to start the next chapter from a specific point. Hope you don’t get too much whiplash from Jungkook's behavior in this one. As always, I’d love to hear your thoughts, theories, and hopes for them ❤️

Baby, we both know

That the nights were mainly made

For sayin' things that you can't say tomorrow day

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

You wake up in your bed.

Alone.

At least there’s that.

For a split second, you find mercy in the silence, before the events of last night come crashing to your mind. 

Why did you do this? Are you really this stupid?

Ugh.

You yank the covers over your head, hiding from both the world and yourself.

Mortified. It's the only word that fits. But even that feels like an understatement.

Yesterday, after making the biggest mistake of the century, you hastily grabbed your clothes from the floor and rushed to the bathroom. You muttered a lame "good night" before disappearing from the living room, ignoring a naked, confused, wide-doe-eyed Jungkook sitting on the couch.

You thought you'd at least have the decency to feel bad in the moment. That you'd lie awake in bed, twisting and turning, struggling to fall asleep. But no. You slept like a fucking baby. For twelve hours, no less. Like you didn’t just fucked your roommate senseless. Like he didn’t fuck you senseless. 

What the fuck was that?

Your stomach growls.

It’s been hours since your last meal, and you're pretty sure there’s still some alcohol lingering in your system. You need food—carbs, salt, oil. Something to help absorb both the alcohol and the regret settling deep in your gut.

You push the covers off, groaning as you tilt your head back.

You really don’t want to go out, to face the consequences of your mistakes. But if you’ve learned anything from this mess, it’s that you can’t avoid it. In some way or another, it’ll come back at you. It’s better to face it head-on.

Why does it have to be a problem anyway?

It was a one-time thing.

You’re both adults that are– no, were sexually attracted to each other. And now it’s out of your system.

So, you fucked. No big deal. 

You can do this.

So what if it was the best sex you’ve had in a while? Maybe even ever...

No. No need for thoughts like that. Traitorous brain.

It was one and done.

Your stomach growls again.

What is it with it? Does it have a personal vendetta against you? Why does something as stupid as hunger have to make you face the world?

You get up from bed, grab the hoodie tossed over the chair, and pull it over your head as you shuffle to the kitchen in search of something to eat. When you enter, you’re met by Jungkook’s back as he stands near the sink, washing dishes. You can tell his shoulders are tense, his whole body stiff as he leans slightly toward the sink. He’s already dressed in his gym clothes. Probably just finished eating before heading out.

“I’m surprised you’re not avoiding me this time,” Jungkook says without turning to face you. You can’t see his face, but his tone is firm, even, cold.

No good morning? No hello? Something?

You’re still standing at the kitchen entrance, not daring to step inside. You stutter, unsure of what to say. “I–I–”

He places the bowl he just washed on the drying rack and moves to clean the next dish. He continues speaking without waiting for you to answer. “After you basically shoved me away and fled last night, I figured you’d hide in your room for at least a few days.”

He calls you a coward.

Not with words, but between the lines.

You stay silent. Stunned silent. You knew leaving like that was a shitty move, but you didn’t expect Jungkook to clock you out. To read you like that. Why does he even care? Weren’t you just another girl on his conquests list?

Jungkook places the utensils in their holder by the sink and grabs the towel to dry his hands. He sighs heavily before finally turning around to face you.

He looks at you, his eyebrows slightly furrowed, waiting for you to say something. He looks like he already knows you’re going to say some bullshit. He looks tired, resigned, impatient.

You look down, feeling your cheek heat up with shame. You were so fixated on the one mistake you made last night that you didn’t even think about the other one. You’re so caught up in running from your problem that you don’t even notice you’re creating new ones.

“I’m sorry. For leaving,” you say quietly.

You hear Jungkook sigh again, and you look up. He pushes his hair back, leaving his fingers tangled in it for a moment. His features are softer now, less harsh than before.

“Why did you leave like that?” he asks quietly, looking down before meeting your gaze again.

You don’t have an answer. What can you tell him? That you couldn’t handle the mistake? That he was that good, you started to wonder what else he could do to you? He won’t let you forget, and you can’t make the same mistake twice.

“I was tired.” You can’t look at him as you lie. It’s not a complete lie, but it’s far from the truth. You both know it.

“Tired?” Jungkook repeats, and you can hear the doubt in his voice. But his tone isn’t angry—it’s sad.

You hum softly and nod. It’s a cowardly answer, a way to escape the truth, but you don’t have the courage to face it right now.

“Okay,” he says evenly, running a hand through his hair again.

You hate this. You hate the weird silence, the uncomfortable tension between you two. Yesterday felt so easy, so fun. Why did it have to be ruined?

“I didn’t want you to ask me to give you back my Squirtle.” It’s a weak attempt to break the awkwardness. You know it, but you have to try.

Jungkook chuckles quietly. His laugh is hollow, lacking its usual warmth, but you can see he’s also trying.

“I would never. Squirtle is yours.”

“Good, because I wouldn’t give it back even if you asked,” you reply, trying to tease. He chuckles again, still stiff, but the air between you two starts to loosen.

“Maybe we can continue the conquest sometime?” you add carefully, not wanting to push too much.

He gives you a tight-lipped smile. “Sure.”

“I—I need to go to the gym now,” he says, stepping forward and rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh. Yeah, sure.” You step aside from the kitchen door, letting him pass.

He gives you a small nod of goodbye as he walks past you.

As he’s almost at the door, you call after him, “Jungkook.”

He turns around, looking at you.

“We’re good?” you ask, the uncertainty still hanging in the air.

“Always,” he says with a smile, then leaves.

You head back to the kitchen, searching for something to eat. At the back of the freezer, you find a frozen bagel and toss it in the toaster, then cook yourself some bacon and eggs. You make a sandwich and take a bite. It helps tremendously with your tired body, but does nothing to ease the weird feeling the talk with Jungkook has left. Your phone buzzes on the table, snapping you out of your thoughts.

[14:03 pm] Sienna my 💖: where are my girlssss

[14:03 pm] Sienna my 💖: wanna meet??

Should you tell your friends what happened last night? You’re itching to spill it all out, but you don’t want to talk about it. You already know what they’ll say. You know it was a mistake. And you definitely don’t want them to get the wrong idea about you and Jungkook.

The phone continues to vibrate with messages as you contemplate what to do. You decide not to decide. You’ll see how you feel when you meet them. You grab your phone and enter the group chat.

[14:04 pm] HanniBoo 🐞: <sent a photo>

[14:04 pm] HanniBoo 🐞: lunch with my man ♥️

[14:05 pm] HanniBoo 🐞: I’m downnnnn

[14:05 pm] HanniBoo 🐞: but later? 

[14:05 pm] Sienna my 💖: my favorite couple 😍

[14:07 pm] You: youre so cute im gonna die 🥹

[14:07 pm] You: yeah

[14:07 pm] You: but lets do something chill?

[14:08 pm] Sienna my 💖: dinner at my place?

[14:08 pm] You: 👍

[14:10 pm] HanniBoo 🐞: 👍

[14:12 pm] Sienna my 💖: see u later 😘😘

Yesterday was a dream.

Spending time with you like that, joking around, it felt natural, easy. Jungkook feels like he can act more like himself around you, drop the cocky mask he wears around other girls. It’s an effective front, but with you, he doesn’t feel the need for it. And that should scare the shit out of him, because only a few people know that side of him. But it doesn’t. It’s fun. It makes him feel warm, happy, light—without all the layers. He doesn’t even know how you manage to bring this side of him out.

It isn’t even about the sex.

Even though it was fucking amazing. The moment he was inside you, he knew he was in trouble. He knew he’d miss it the moment he had to leave you. Everything about you was perfect for him.

Yesterday was a dream.

Until it wasn’t.

Why did you leave like that? He was about to ask if you wanted to sleep in his room—or yours. He felt like a fool. So stupid. So small. After he let his guard down like that, after he allowed himself to be more real with you, and that was your reaction?

Fuck. 

Wasn’t he good enough? 

‘Fuck you out of his system?’ Pffff. 

How stupid was he? 

It’s just making him want you more.

When he hears you enter the kitchen, his body tenses. He uses every bit of his willpower not to turn around, not to grab you and ask, why?

He didn’t expect to see you at all. He’d planned to finish his pre-workout meal and leave as quickly as possible. He needs to go to the gym, clear his mind, maybe talk with Jimin about it. He needs more time to think, to process what happened, to figure out how he feels. He doesn’t want to talk to you when he’s this messed up.

But as you step into the kitchen, he knows he’s mad.

Mad at you for leaving him like that.

Mad at you for making it more than just sex.

Mad at how you make him feel.

Yet, when he turns to face you, he realizes he isn’t mad at all.

At the sight of the shame on your face, the slight blush creeping to your cheeks, he knows he’s not mad. 

He’s in trouble. Because all he wants is to close the gap and hold you. To tell you he’ll never be upset with you. 

That yesterday was a dream.

Until it wasn’t.

He needs to get out of there, to collect himself.

He can’t hold you. Can’t let his feelings loose around you.

You made it clear this isn’t what you want. Alas, why would you leave like that?

But when you ask him if you two are good, he can’t bring himself to say no.

Because he knows he’ll take whatever you are willing to give him.

“I’m home,” you call out as you come back from dinner with the girls.

You don’t see Jungkook right away, but you hear noises and see his keys on the table by the door, so you know he’s here. You head over to the couch, scrolling on your phone.

When you hear him step out of the kitchen, you look up at him.

And you hate how effortlessly good he looks. He’s in his usual uniform—black sweatpants and an oversized shirt. His hair is still a little damp from the shower he probably took recently, and a clean scent drifts through the living room.

When he sees you sitting on the couch, you catch the surprise flicker across his features. Like he didn’t expect you to be here. Like you don’t live here too?!

But then, as he sits next to you, his expression shifts into a smug smirk.

He grabs the controller from the coffee table and scrolls through his game library with one hand, while his other hand casually settles on your thigh, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Want to continue Pokémon?”

You look at the hand on your thigh.

Big, warm, confident—his hand slightly gripping your thigh.

Nope.

You swat his hand away a few seconds too late. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

“What?” he asks casually, not even bothering to look at you.

“Want to start a new game?” he continues, as if nothing happened.

And here you thought you needed to clear the air, to make sure whatever weird vibes lingered from your morning conversation were gone. But as Jungkook continues to stare at the screen, acting like nothing happened, you realize you need to have a completely different conversation.

“You know that what happened last night was a one-time thing, right?”

You watch as he freezes for a second, his finger halting on the joystick.

He turns to look at you, a cocky smirk playing on his face.

“Sure.” His tone drips with condescension and amusement.

And then, without missing a beat, he turns back to the screen.

Ughhh. He’s so annoying. You know it was the stupidest mistake of your life.

“Jungkook,” you say sternly. “I’m serious.”

“Of course.” He doesn’t even bother to look at you this time—just keeps scrolling through the game store.  

What did you expect? Of course, this is how he’ll act.

You need him to understand that this was a one-time slip-up, that whatever is going on isn’t a thing, that it was over last night—and that it wasn’t even supposed to happen in the first place.

“This is never happening again,” you continue, even though it’s clear he’s already checked out of the conversation.

“Huh.” He doesn’t even bother with an actual response this time. “I heard this Supermarket simulator is really good. Wanna give it a try?”

What the fuck is he on about?! You could murder him, you swear.

“Jungkook!” you snap, way too loud. But you can’t hold it anymore; he’s driving you insane.

He slowly sets the controller on his lap and turns his body toward you.

“What?” His tone is innocent, but the cockiness oozing from his whole being says otherwise.

“Were you even listening to what I said?” you shoot back.

“Yep,” he says, popping the ‘p’ like a child. “One-time thing. Won’t ever happen again. Understood.” He finishes with a little nod. You might have thought he was genuine—if you didn’t know him better.

You feel like you’re about to lose it. This man is driving you insane. Your face is getting hot, and you exhale sharply through your nose, trying to hold it together.

“What are you so worked up about?” he asks, almost chuckling. “You wanna talk about what happened?”

“No, I don’t want to talk about it!” you snap, your voice louder than you intend. You probably sound a little crazy, but it’s not your fault. He’s making you lose your mind. “I want you to understand what I’m saying.” You try to sound serious, fighting to calm yourself down. You don’t want to lose it completely.

“I understand,” he says, flashing that pleased smile like this is some sort of game.

“You don’t seem to understand by how you're acting!” Shit. You’re about to explode.

“How am I acting?” he asks, pretending he has no clue what you want. “What do you want me to do? You said we won’t fuck again, and I said okay. What more do you need? Want me to pinky promise? Want me to cut off my dick?” 

Fucking infuriating, stupid, annoying, unbelievably childish Jungkook. “We need to talk about what happened.”

He smirks. Why the fuck he smirks? 

“You said you didn’t want to talk about it,” he says smugly.

He’s pushing you to the edge of your patience. “Well, apparently we need to, because you just have to act like a dick.”

"Okay. What do you want to talk about? How it was the best orgasm of your life, and you're still saying we won’t do it again?" He speaks evenly, but you see the mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Jungkook!”

“What?” he smirks, clearly enjoying scandalizing you.

He continues, still smiling. “Wanna talk about how I saw your legs wiggle even though you tried to ru—” “Okay, I get it. It was good, yeah. That’s not the point,” you cut him off quickly. “Good??” He scoffs. “So, what’s the point?” “I just want to make sure things aren’t weird between us.” You try to explain. Tired from this annoying back and forth. “Why would they be weird?” He asks, genuinely not getting it.

What’s there not to get? How can you explain this to him? You try to explain, stating the obvious. “Because we fucked?” 

“Yes?” He says it like both a question and a statement, a touch of content smugness lacing his tone.

“And we live together?” You drag the words out, as if you’re explaining it to a toddler.

He opens his eyes wide and scrunches his brows, looking at you like you’ve just said the most tupid shit ever. 

You can’t with him.

“I just don’t want things to be weird around here!” You yell at him, throwing your hands up in exasperation, trying to emphasize what you’re saying, and he’s still refusing to understand.

Jungkook leans back, crossing his arms over his chest, that easy smile still on his face. “You’re the one making things weird. I said I understand.”

He smirks, looking away from you. 

You know he’s about to say something stupid.

“Maybe you don’t really want it to be a one-time thing.”

You’re seething by now. “Jungkook, I swear I’m gonna kill–”

“Geez, relax. I’m kidding. I get it.” He stops you before you can complete the sentence. “No weird vibes, okay?”

“Okay.” You agree, not because you believe it, but because what more can you say?

“So, Supermarket simulator?” he asks, grinning from ear to ear.

a/n2: I highly recommend the Supermarket Simulator. 10/10 game.

Back to the series masterlist

[yaolmao]

nasty dog

[rwrbmovie]

BTS of #RWRBMovie: interview room

Neil Floyd via Big Gay Energy:

That's the weird part, no one got that in all of the Twitter that I've seen for the entire film about every detail in the film. I guess because we just kinda made it up, it wasn't part of the book, but we decided the interview room could be an homage to Richard Curtis who wrote all the romantic comedies, you know for the past 20 years. That was our nod to 'Notting Hill', because in 'Notting Hill', Julia Roberts was the American and Hugh Grant was the Brit, and they sort of do the whole interview thing with Horse & Hound. So we actually rented the exact same furniture. The sofa is different, because the one that Julia Roberts was on was a bit smaller, and for the two boys' size, we couldn't fit them on that sofa, so we had a different sofa. But the coffee table, everything – the flower arrangements, they were done by our florist who knew the original florist who did 'Notting Hill'. So we did this whole thing, so that was kinda our fun, cheeky little set because we wanted to see "oh, would anyone get it?" But it was our homage to you know, classic romcoms from our days and now we're doing a gay version so it was great.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Damage Control 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, violence, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Jonathan Pine, Lloyd Hansen

Summary: you’re sent to work intel on a mission with two very combative men.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You switch with Pine as the window seat gives you the flip in your stomach that directly challenges what’s left of your lunch. He obliges. He seems the sort despite his work. He struggles to fit his long legs between his seat and the next row. You feel bad for him, the world isn’t much made for the tall, handsome sort. Pfft. 

The seatbelt light goes off and you settle in with a book you haven’t much focus for. You close it and glance over at the window, blanching and looking at the seat ahead of you. You swallow tightly and let a breath out through your nose. 

You love going to new places but it’s the getting there part that really stinks. You lean into the seat as if you might become a part of it. You keep yourself strapped in and open the book then close it again. The subtle thrum of the plane keeps you on edge. 

Suddenly, the tremble becomes a shake. Not thinking, you reach over to grab the armrest. Instead, you latch onto Pine’s wrist and squee. The rumbling has your heart topturning and when it’s over, you stay clasped on. 

“Alright,” he pets your knuckles. “Just a bit of turbulence.” 

“I’m sorry,” you rip your hand away. “Like I said, I used to be brave. I think sometimes you age into fear. Like a rollercoaster. When you’re young, you don’t think of it then you’re in line as an adult and you’re counting every regret you’ve got.” You give a sheepish smile, “are they serving alcohol?” 

He hums, “think the cart will be out soon. I could go with for a pint myself.” 

“Well, if your taste in lager is anything like your football choices, I think you might be left unsatisfied,” you chortle and try to shake out your nerves. It’s fine. Everyone else is entirely unbothered, don’t be a nervous nelly, now. 

“You’re not going to let that go, are you?” He sighs. 

“I’m not judging. I’m just honest,” you smirk then crane to look down the aisle. “Trolly can’t come soon enough.” 

“On that we can agree,” he intones. 

His company calms you. Just enough for you to not grind your teeth to dust. You tuck the book down beside your leg and try to stretch out the tension from your hands and legs. 

The flight wears on. A Stella helps soothe you through the next bought of turbulence as Jonathan distracts you with chatter about some trek he made through the Scottish hills. You know what he’s doing but you’re not unhappy about it. It helps keeps your mind off the distance to the ground. 

After a while, you relax enough to close your eyes. You don’t sleep but you manage to shut off your anxiety for just a little. When the announcement comes to warn of the landing, your knotted up all over again. 

It isn’t until the wheels hit the ground that you notice you’ve grabbed onto your seat neighbour once more. He doesn’t say a word, nor does he seem to mind. You suppose given the nature of your acquaintance; you can expect to be caught in close quarters rather often. 

You nearly cry as you disembark and your feet hit solid ground. You drag your bag through to customs and yawn. You’re ready to keel over but you’ve a long way to go still. 

“I’ll get the rental,” you volunteer as you finally clear the hordes of arrivals. 

“Shall I keep guard of the luggage,” he offers. 

“Oh, sure,” you agree. “I’ll be as quick as a housefly.” 

You stride off and find the right rental kiosk amid the furor. You get your keys and return to Pine. You walk off into the rental lot, slightly disoriented as you check the car number a seventh time. 

“This way,” he gestures with his head as he keeps hold of both bags. 

“Oh, jeez, I can take mine back,” you reach for the suitcase but he swiftly veers away. 

“I can handle it,” he assures you. “Would you pop the boot?” 

You approach the rental and hit the button on the keychain to unlock the hatch. He loads up the bags as you investigate the front seat and adjust the mirrors and incline of the backrest. He gets in as you fiddle with the stereo. 

You finally get it perfect and back out, gripping the wheel tight as you swerve in reverse and slam on the brakes. He glances at you and you return his look coyly. 

“I’ve got to be on the right-side. I nearly forgot. Forgive me,” you smile. “You might have to remind me a few times. 

“If it’s better, I can drive.” 

“No, I can manage. I think. Right, right, right...” you mutter to yourself as you slowly step on the pedal. “Anyhow, now we are free of the commoners,” you kid, “this Hansen fellow. Peculiar. Interesting in a way that makes my skin crawl.” You begin as you stop to signal and follow another car around the slog of airport traffic. “Mercenary for hire but it turns out Roper has diversified his efforts to cause general malaise. It isn’t ideal, but he’s the only lead we’ve got at the moment.” 

You sigh and frown as you think of his file. It wasn’t an easy read. Weeks spent poring over every bit of intel you could find. Typically, you don’t mind your job. You’re good at it but sometimes you wade so far into the depths, you can’t see much for the murk. 

“It would be good to practice caution. It’s rather surprising Hansen wouldn’t foresee Roper’s deceit, considering they seem to be much alike,” you continue. “In fact, I’d be wary that this all might be in itself a ploy. This could be Roper playing into our pursuit.” 

“Yes, I thought the same. Anything I should particularly of this man?” 

“He’s a cockroach. Hard to kill. Presumed dead for some years and then... as if by miracle, there he is. Missing a few parts but still around and worse,” you say. “I’m sure you live by the law of this line of work; never trust anyone.” You follow the curve of the road into the city. “Not even me.” 

[ariannabananasstuff]

chew me up but don’t spit me out is my roman empire btw

the use of gender, addiction, found family, relationships is EVERYTHING to me

not even just the jegulus but the little relationships (evan and regulus, regulus and remus, barty and james) ECT ECT

I love it.

i reread it whenever i’m in a slump.

damagecontrol you outdid yourself with this one

BUT ALSO I MUCH PREFER THE LATER CHAPTERS (milan/paris-to end) just because of how much other yk stuff there is 😖

[marveltournaments]

[akstnkd]

The Sky Genius by Akstnkd

[dreamer0903]

Only on chapter 2 of "Chew me up but don't spit me out" by Damagecontrol and I'm already obsessed.

GO READ IT.

(Also...I don't think the author will be upset if I share snippets of the fic just to comment it??? But if you know they don't like it pls tell me, and I will stop, I'm just loving it, sm and I wanted to share!!)

[lovely-lavender-sunshine]

Was having a good time lately and then my brain decided to randomly remind me of These Violent Delights Have Violent Ends and now I’m sad again

[stoicmike]

Ten seconds of thought could have prevented a year’s worth of damage control... -- Michael Lipsey

[babyniigo]

Everpony!! Look at the cute things Mizuki’s cgs got her!! Niigo went shopping to spoil their baby girl! ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১

[kooppss]

Chapter 3 - Damage Control (Teaser)

“Why did you leave like that?” he asks quietly, looking down before meeting your gaze again.

You don’t have an answer. What can you tell him? That you couldn’t handle the mistake? That he was that good, you started to wonder what else he could do to you? He won’t let you forget. And you can’t make the same mistake twice.

“I was tired.” You can’t look at him as you lie. It’s not a complete lie, but it’s not the truth either. You both know it isn’t.

“Tired?” Jungkook says, and you can hear in his voice that he doesn’t believe you. But his tone isn’t irritated; it’s sad.

You just hum and nod. It’s a cowardly answer, escaping from the truth, but you don’t have the courage to face it right now.

“Okay,” he says evenly, running a hand through his hair again.

[fa1rytaleselfaware]

Siblings moment🌌

Marvel Rivals got hyped and I decided to get deep in some lore stuff about Galacta and other related things and let my inspiration do the thing

(IDK. Would they have nice relationships? Is Gus even canon? Do they deserve fanart? Is Galacta rewritten in modern way? Is my grammar still bad?)

[smoreboi]

so i just wanna complain for a second. my dad is a right leaning centrist. he, thankfully, is completely against trump being in office. he votes third party republican.

i know leading up to this election i would make jokes about voting for a third party. i did not tho, because im not blind to how fucked our government is, and i would rather a vote go to damage control than just be wasted.

if you voted third party and are now upset with the results, im gonna say that’s kinda on you. if you can’t forget your pride for 2 minutes and vote for someone you kinda don’t like to stop someone you really don’t like from taking office, just. unfollow me actually.

these results have me terrified for my and my friends actual lives! i have friends that are Haitian, i and most of my friends are queer/gay/trans/etc., im afab and so are a good amount of my friends, and we’re all in danger with this man as president. maybe that isn’t worth shit to you, maybe you actually don’t care. In which case, actually just. identify yourself so I can block you. because that’s kinda fucked imo

i voted kamala because i believe in damage control. why couldn’t you

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Damage Control 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, violence, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Jonathan Pine, Lloyd Hansen

Summary: you're sent to work intel on a mission with two very combative men.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You sit in the airport. One piece of luggage. Simple. Easy. You travel light but not alone. Your company has yet to arrive.

Fellow travelers rush back and forth while others wait in queue for the coffee kiosk behind you or meander in hopes of an empty seat. The dark brew isn’t very good. It’s burnt and hollow. You push the cup away and mourn the five dollars for eight ounces of tripe.

You recognise the man, not only because you’ve seen his photo, but because he stands out despite his attempt at insignificance. Tall, blond, lithe but not too slender. He approaches and you stand. He looks around, right over your head. You likely don’t look how he would expect.

“Pine,” you call to him. His blue eyes narrow at you and he redirects. He rolls his bag with him and approaches with his hand extended, “Pine like the tree. Tall as one.”

He tilts his head curiously, “you’re Magenta?”

“I didn’t choose it,” you say.

“Angela?”

“Can’t leave the wee one,” you explain as you hike yourself back up on the tall chair. You bring the cup close again and turn it as you scowl at the brew. “Don’t recommend the coffee. Don’t know about the tea.”

“Hm,” he sits across from you. “Pity. Was hoping for a good cuppa before we head over the pond.”

You look at him and your cheek twitches. You put your hand to it to still it. His blue eyes twinkle.

“You like to hike? With a name like Pine, it’d be ironic, wouldn’t it?” You suggest.

A line forms above his brow, “suppose that would be. I enjoy a run now and then, prefer the coast.”

“I hear they’ve got bears over there. Never saw one. Only rats in New York,” you remark. “I lost a slice of pizza to one. Grimy git.”

“Hm, yes, a city one would hate to be lost in,” he muses.

“You’ve been?”

“A time or two. Not my favourite place.”

“I went to Canada a couple times. I saw a moose. Actually, saw a few. Meese? Have you seen their geese? They’re bloody vicious.” Your cheek keeps twitching. You give up. Nerves.

“Ah, I’ve flown over, not been,” he says. “You nervous of flying?”

“Little. It’s only the take-off that gets me. Went parachuting once and the instructor tricked me. Said the strap on my chute broke. Threw a dummy cord out. Right mad one. Should’ve known better than do a jump for twenty quid.” You chuckle and shake your head. “Haven’t been right since.”

“Sounds especially cruel,” he comments.

“I’ve known crueler,” you grin.

“Mm, yes, as have I,” his brows lift slightly. “So, what do you know about this Hansen character?”

“I know we should keep the chatter to a minimum about him. Not here,” you glance around, catching site of the man who’s not so subtle in his staring.

“You’ve done this before?” He asks.

“I work alone more often. First for having company,” you say quietly. “Your sister, she’s going to be so happy to see you."

He hesitates but smiles anyway, "oh, she will. It's been some time, hasn't it?"

You keep your eyes on him. He doesn't flinch. You're both overtly aware of the man who's oh so convieniently moved closer to grab sugar and napkins.

You lift your arm and check your watch, "look at that, boarding soon."

"Ah, yes, darling, wouldn't want to miss it," he stands and comes around to pull out your chair. You step down and reach for your bag. He has it first. "Allow new."

You take your coffee and dump it in a bin. He rolls both bags with him as you walk in stride.

"Grab my arm. Be natural," he girds.

You obey, putting your hands on his as he clings to your suitcase. You walk with him, a dulcet expression to hide your paranoia. You get to the gate and show your passes.

He lets go of the bags and turns to yawn into his elbow. As he does, he scans the area. You join the queue for the ramp and he leans in.

"He's been rerouted by security," Pine intones.

You nod and stay facing forward. Another twitch.

"You're good," he praises.

You give a soft smile. It's a true compliment. You're not a field agent. This isn't your typical assignment but you owe Angela the favour.

“Eh, sometimes they turn out to just be creeps,” you snort. “Never know with people.”

“No, you never do,” he agrees.

“They say it's cold. November and such,” you sway as the airport attendants mill around near the doors waiting to call for boarding. “Thanksgiving soon, or whathaveyou. Pity we never got in on the fun.”

He laughs again, “never much thought of it.”

“I wouldn't mind turkey. You can get fish at any chippy, but what about nice bird.”

“Oh, I don't recommend picking up birds at a chippy,” he hurls back.

You guffaw, “clever.”

“I like to think so.”

“Mm, yes, most agents I've met tend to have that idea about themselves,” you stretch your arms behind you and scope out the line. You let out a breath. “You seem the football type, eh?”

He seems stricken by the question, “might be.”

“Eh, don't you worry, I won't judge. Not out loud.”

“Right. I'll admit, not many of Angela's friends are so chatty,” he says.

“They wouldn't be but we've ten hours ahead of us. May as well jump right in,” you say.

“May as well,” he agrees. “If you must know, I root for Chelsea.”

“Ach,” you decry. “Well, perhaps we should find a more amiable topic.”

“I see. Spoken like a true Arsenal fan.”

“I'm warning you,” you retort. “I'm much nicer about the weather. Lovely day, isn't it?”

He laughs, “oh, fine day for flying.”