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syoddeye · 5 months

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the christmas party

ceo!price x reader / smut free / ~2.8k words

A very belated Christmas drabble thing. Definitely not inspired by real life events. 👀 Featuring a fem!Reader x Price, background Ghost x Soap, and Gaz, the incredi-boss. Might fuck around make this a series, we'll see! Maybe I'll clean it up and throw it on AO3, too.

CW: alcohol, substance abuse (mentioned) inappropriate comments from coworkers

You came to expect drama at the company Christmas party. It was as traditional as the optional White Elephant gift exchange, the hired group of carolers, and the ugly sweater competition.

Last year, a 'mystery' baggie of powder and a credit card belonging to the former Head of Sales was found in a bathroom stall. Two years ago, it was the unexpectedly raunchy dancing between an engineer and a project manager you swore hated each other. Three years ago, a division head went home with someone who was definitely not her spouse.

You'd seen a lot in your tenure. The good, the bad, the ugly, the hilariously mortifying.

Coming up on your fifth year with The 141 Group, you were a rarity. Most folks job-hopped. More power to them, no shame in gaining good experience after a year or two to leave for greener pastures. The fact you stuck around labeled you a 'veteran', a cheeky if not sensational label, though there were times you certainly felt like you'd seen war. Acquisitions. Rebrands. Reorgs. Yeesh.

But life at 141 suits you. You are an executive assistant, a good one. It helps that your direct supervisor and the VP of Finance, Kyle Garrick, a fellow 'vet', was an incredible boss. He lets you work from when you need to, doesn't micromanage, and treats you like a person, unlike other execs. He had faith in your ability to manage his calendar, prep materials, book travel - in short, you organized his work life. In return, whenever some new hire got too fresh with you, all it took was one teensy mention in a morning meeting, and by lunch, the offending party had only apologies for you. Most importantly, though, the job nets enough money to make rent and let you pursue your hobbies.

With years of Christmas parties under your belt, you were looking forward to tonight's low-grade yet cataclysmic event. Pre-gaming and primping at a fellow assistant's house, Jordan, you clasp the silver holly leaf pendant around your neck where it lies just above your modest cleavage. The dress code was simply 'Christmas Color', another tradition. Formal attire was expected, if not an unsaid requirement, which meant slipping into a gorgeous dark green dress you spied weeks ago in a boutique window. You thank yourself for earning that last pay bump to afford it because you look fantastic, in your humble opinion.

Lacing her leather Oxfords, Jordan gives a low whistle when you turn away from the mirror. "Like a big, sexy pine tree."

You smirk. "Thanks. Remind me why we both couldn't wear red tonight?"

"Because of the two of us, red is my color. Do I not look like some kind of holiday vampire?" She asks, standing with a sweeping gesture down at her deep, red velvet suit.

"More bellboy, but-"

"Rude!"

The two of you lovingly bicker all the way out to the awaiting car. The 141 Group, ever mindful of its image, always reimbursed rideshares for its company parties. Given the amount of liquor that flowed at these events, it wasn't only generous but smart. Like the higher-ups needed a scandal. The car ferries you across town to the ritzy event space at a local art museum. Leaving your coats at the complimentary bag check, you enter the well-underway party.

The events team needs a raise, like yesterday. The sprawling space was completely done up. Several open bars, a champagne wall, a photo op with a to-scale Santa's Sleigh, and dining tables with place settings that probably rival a monarch. Silvery white birch trees enveloped in lights line the walls, with clusters of small fir trees fully decorated dotting the space. The dancefloor was already busy with a DJ fully dressed as Santa.

Four going on five years, and it was still quite the sight.

You gently elbow Jordan. "So. Cheesy themed cocktails first or canapes?"

"Obviously drinks. I just saw one with an ornament in it!"

Three hours in, it was a dead heat for Most Dramatic Event. Two separate calamities slowly built throughout the night.

At the nexus of the first, Chad from marketing was almost blacked out. After winning the ugly sweater with a true abomination of a sweater (working lights, a mini speaker, and an ungodly amount of sequins), he celebrated. A little hard. He bopped from open bar to open bar as the bartenders cut him off one by one. He was trying to convince a coworker to grab him another Mistletoe Martini, and it was progressively getting louder.

The second was from the rumor mill more than anything. Apparently, a developer named Scott brought the wrong gift for the exchange. As the story went, his wife used the same paper for an identically sized gift, one of a titillating nature, and now he was visibly paranoid that he nabbed the wrong one on the way out the door. The man stalked the pile of gifts as folks drew numbers.

Jordan bet on the first, and you bet on the second. From the corner, you watch, giggling behind a cup of Prancer's Punch.

The sound of your name drew your attention. Kyle, in a charcoal gray suit with a sleek snowflake tie bar and green tie, approaches with a Tiny Tim Collins in hand. Though you waved hello earlier in the night, he spent most of the evening in the company of who you deemed his 'buddies' - Johnny MacTavish, VP of Technology and Jordan's boss, and Simon Riley, the Chief Security Officer. You learned in your first month to leave the trio to it.

"Having fun, are we?" Kyle grins and turns to observe the twin events.

"I love this party. Every year, delivers just like Santa," Jordan gleefully said.

"Someone should stop them," You add, knowing nobody would. At least not Kyle.

And as if on cue, the man chuckles. "Not my circus, not my clowns."

The three of you chat, swapping bits of office gossip collected through the night. Not the most appropriate, but not the worst social crime, surely. You're the right amount of tipsy: warm and relaxed but solid.

The wager came up naturally.

"What do you want if you win, my pine tree?"

"Hmm. It's gotta be something outrageous but not a fireable offense. Hmm. Maybe I'll have you sing on a video call, pretend you thought you were on mute or something."

"...That's boring."

"Do I want to know?" Kyle asks, sipping his drink.

"We have a bet on who's gonna be this year's drama - Chad or Scott." You explain.

"Maybe I ought to get back…" Your boss said with a laugh. "Better not witness to whatever you two plan."

"Might be for the best. Night, Kyle," You accept the brief hug from the man, then poke a finger against his chest. "Listen, if I get one DM about work during the holiday, I'm switching your coffee to decaf."

Kyle claps a hand over his heart as if he's been shot. "Monstrous. Fine, have it your way, no work during Christmas…Now, behave yourself, both of you."

Watching him retreat back to MacTavish and Riley (who look quite cozy - perhaps another piece of gossip?), Jordan nudges you. "If I was into guys, that's who I'd be into."

"You and like fifty other people here," As Kyle's assistant, you're more than his Girl Friday; you're also a professional gatekeeper. You could wallpaper your apartment with the amount of cringy notes you've stopped from reaching his desk.

"Not your type, then?"

You whip your head back to Jordan, utterly horrified. "No way. Not that Kyle isn't an absolute dreamboat; he's just not my dreamboat. Plus, at this point, it would be so, so weird."

Jordan laughs. "Y'know, even though we've been work besties for a year, I don't think we've ever discussed this. What is your type? As dudes are not my specialty, I have no clue."

Your type, huh? As if you don't know. Your type's been the same for as long as you can remember. Big and brawny, the kind of guy who could haul you around. Dark hair. Well-groomed, well-dressed, well-endow–You could still make it onto the naughty list.

Using better and cleaner terms, you relay this information to Jordan.

"Huh. A man's man. Whodathunk–oh! Oh shit, look who it is!" The other woman pats your arm and gestures with a nod.

Joining Kyle and his buddies, is none other than John Price - CEO of The 141 Group. Fashionably late (very fashionably late), yet another tradition. Adorned in a Santa red suit jacket and a matching red tie, he somehow makes the boring dress code dashing. Flanking him is a pair of bodyguards. He's just in time for the wager to come to a head.

God, he looks good.

As Kyle's assistant, you see John fairly regularly. Not that he sees you. No one above a certain pay grade sees assistants. You kind of just blend right on in. Not even Mr. Riley, whom you've been introduced to a dozen times by Kyle himself, recalls your name. When you tag along to meetings to take notes for the boss man, you assume you're on the same level as a lamp or plant. That doesn't mean you haven't ogled John Price before. Kind of hard to not to, what with his commanding presence. You're kind of ogling him right now.

"Wow, you really do have a type," Jordan hums with a shit-eating grin.

"Shut up," You hiss into your drink and look away, just in time to see Chad from marketing lift a gift box-shaped ice sculpture and smash it onto the ground next to one of the open bars with a frustrated yell. The poor bartender and caterers jump back, and the music scratches to a halt. A thick silence fell over the party, impressive for a crowd of over a hundred, and your eyes flick to Mr. Price.

He glares daggers in Chad's direction, then nods at the taller of his bodyguards. Without hesitation, the man crosses the event space toward a petrified, drunk-crying Chad. As the guard hauls him away, your coworker, or former coworker, you assume, bursts into ugly tears and then disappears from sight. But your eyes are still on John, whose gaze turns to the DJ. The music starts again, as does the chatter.

"Fuck yes," Jordan giddily whispers.

"Well, shit."

"You know what this means, don't you?"

"...Unfortunately, yes. Yes, I do," You sigh and down the rest of your drink. "Before you swing the axe, let me grab another punch."

"Hurry back, I've got my thinking cap on," Jordan impishly smirks.

With a groan, you make your way to the nearest open bar. One far from Chad's little tantrum. Most folks are on the dance floor at this hour, leaving this particular bar quiet. Waiting in line behind other tipsy coworkers, a clearing throat behind you grabs your attention.

"D'you have a recommendation?" A low, gravelly voice from all your best dreams asks.

You turn, and the sweet Hallmark-worthy image that blossomed in your mind in the last two seconds promptly morphs into a nightmare. Not a running-for-your-life nightmare, but a you're-the-only-naked-person-in-class nightmare. Laughable, considering the topic of conversation not three minutes ago.

John Price stands tall behind you, arms crossed, testing the fabric of his red suit jacket. He smells like tobacco and something spicy, and his eyes are a shade of blue you hadn't noticed before. You never got this close. They narrow slightly, and you realize you haven't answered him.

"Prancer's Punch." The name sounds cornier aloud.

"Hmm. Brandy or rum?" He sounds unimpressed. Was he unimpressed?

You're quicker to answer this time. Except, you babble. "It's, uh, made with dark rum. It's delicious. I've had a few. The cranberry juice isn't too tart, compliments the sparkling wine and–It's good."

Santa, run me over with your reindeer.

Kyle would be humiliated to have heard all of that. You are humiliated for having said all of that.

To your surprise though, the corner of John's mouth hooks in a smirk, then he chuckles. "How many qualifies as 'a few'?"

You, apparently committed to acting moronically, answer honestly. "Five."

It gets you an actual laugh this time. His hand raises up to scritch at his cheek, flashing the band of a watch you're certain is worth more than your life, then juts his chin forward slightly. "You're up, miss."

"Oh, no, Mr. Price, I insist, please-" You start to sidestep to let him up in line, but his hand lowers immediately and stretches out to stop you. He doesn't touch you, but the hair of your arm stands up at the proximity.

John smiles again, and his head tips toward you. "I insist. Join me, Miss…?"

"Mr. Price?" A voice suddenly interrupts. The taller bodyguard that removed Chad steps up and steals away Mr. Price's attention. "The problem's been dealt with. Regarding…"

You don't hear the rest of the conversation because you hurriedly ask for a punch and bolt back to Jordan.

And Jordan saw everything. Your heart is racing, and you miss half of her teasing.

"You made him laugh. Twice. I don't think I've ever seen him smile, let alone laugh."

"Because I basically admitted to being drunk!"

"Calm down, you're not, you're solid," She reassures. "Besides. You saw that death glare at Chad. If he was upset, I reckon you'd be on the receiving end of one of those."

You groan and take a swig of punch. You hope you've had enough of the good stuff to burn away the memory of your embarrassing rambling. You look back to Jordan to say something and find your friend once again grinning devilishly at you.

"I just thought of what I want for my victory."

Any time, Santa. Put me out of my misery.

"What?"

"So…You know #AskPrice?"

You know where this is going, and your eyeballs nearly bulge out of their sockets. "Jordan. Please. No. Do not make me post something stupid there."

#AskPrice was the name of the open channel at work. Anyone across the company could post questions for Mr. Price to answer. More often than not, it was a venue for bootlickers and kiss-asses to rain praises and share bad proposals. Rarely was there a legitimate question or a good idea.

"Darling, of course not. I have something far funnier in mind," She started, and you swore you saw the flames of hell itself in her eyes. "You're going to direct message Mr. Price and ask what he wants for Christmas."

Jaw, meet floor. "Absolutely not!"

Jordan laughs and hooks an arm around your neck, pulling you in. "Come on. It's harmless. Believe me, I considered making you send a selfie or asking if you're on the naughty or nice list."

"He could fire me!"

"For what? It's just a question! He always says we're welcome to DM him."

To be fair, Mr. Price did say that at the end of every company-wide call or in email announcements. He always harps on 'transparency' and 'open channels of communication', hence #AskPrice. To your knowledge, however, no one ever takes him up on that, at least at your level.

"Jordan…Mercy. Please."

"My sweet pine tree, you lost fair and square," She releases you and pats your shoulder. "If it makes you feel better, I bet he gets a thousand messages a day. The notification will get lost in the noise."

It doesn't take much more prodding and encouragement from Jordan. Your phone ends up in your hand, and you tap into the chat app. Your hand shakes a little when you pull up John's username and open the message dialogue.

johnprice - invisible Hi, Mr. Price. I was wondering what you want for Christmas?

Short and to the point. Jordan calls it 'boring', but you're already putting your neck on the line for a stupid wager. You're not risking anymore by dressing it up. Bet fulfilled, you press send, quickly turn notifications off, and shove your phone back into your little purse. Jordan rewards you with a squeeze to the shoulder.

"That was terrifying." You whine.

"That was a rush. Come on. Let's dance."

The next morning, when you're all but molded to your couch and housing takeaway, there's a little ping from your phone. It's the chime of the chat app.

"Kyle, for the love of everything, it's Sunday–"

You nearly drop your phone.

johnprice - invisible Hi, Mr. Price. I was wondering what you want for Christmas? > World peace. > I'd settle for a drink, though.

#call of duty #john price #captain john price #captain price #price x you #price x reader #john price x you #john price x reader #john price x female reader #price x female reader #cod fanfic #cod fic #ceo!john price

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the-moth-from-elsewhere · 2 months

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The Epic Amazing Absolutely Insane TAOCC Song Post

Aka: Elsie assigns random songs to random characters for random reasons, vaguely organized by mod. These are almost entirely vibes and randomness so get ready to be utterly confused. Don’t expect any of these to fit too well, I went more based on the sound and random stuff than the actual accuracy. Also i’m kinda brain-broken from overthinking all this music lol. No, I didn’t add links, just because this took so many hours. Maybe tomorrow, I just wanna get this done.

Feiar’s characters.

Nymn

“Dento takes the Stairs” by Gooseworx

I told you these would make no sense. Idk the amount of nymn just being vibes/silly/lighthearted makes me think of how this song is a break from the chaos of the Elain series.

Jessy

“Metamodernity” by Vansire

Okay, I have a really specific animatic in my head for this song in which we flash between the TAOCC characters as they are in the circus, and then a cool transition, and then it’s them pre-circus. My best example is Dusk and Jessy sitting on a bench. A train passes by, and now it’s human Jessy sitting alone on a bench. Because Dusk is AI. And that very specific part of the animatic in my head tends to stick with me, especially seeing as Jessy is very “just go with stuff” and so I can kinda hear him singing this in my head.

”Apocalypse Now” by PinnoccioP

The first appearance of many of my favorite music artist lol. The song is about enjoying existence even if everything is a violent wreck, and it just kinda fits to me lol.

“World’s Smallest Violin” - AJR

yeah just gonna drop this one here and run

“Sweet Tooth” - Scott Helman

Blame Fei.

Clara

”Drosselmeyer’s theme - Kurumi Wari Ningyo (Nutcracker No. 2 March) - The Princess Tutu Soundtrack

Okay, for starters, you should watch Princess Tutu. Like right now. It’s amazing, and the title does NOT do it Justice. Back on track, it…it’s the nutcracker! Come on, this one was basically handed to me.

Tutu vs Kraehe (Swan Lake Act 1 Op. 20 No. 2)

Fight theme.

Lance

”I Don’t Have a Name For It” - Steam Powered Giraffe

I…I’m sorry I don’t have an explanation for this it just works. Lancia sweep.

Raina

”Nightcall” - Kavinsky

…Once again, very flimsy. But like…switch the gender. I’m sorry but it’s giving “they’re talking about my death but I’m still here.” The miku version works better here in my opinion :3

The pirates

“He’s a pirate” - F-777

“The 7 Seas” - F-777

idk man techno piracy go vrrrrrrrr I unironically blasted these during like the entirety of the pirates plotline frick you this is my rant I do what I want /silly

Star’s Characters

Icia

”Long Live” - Taylor Swift

I swear I have reasons for this just hear me out okay- First off, I can see the voice fitting, second off, I imagine her singing this either for Lance or Starro or both after we finally finally finally throw Hexe off a cliff.

“Santa Salvacion” - Magia Record OST

epic fight theme for fighting the terrifying ice lady. I blasted this while writing the fight scene with The Dark Queen Icia.

Dunite

”Postmeridae” - Madoka Magica OST

Cutesy upbeat theme for making merengues to. No notes.

“Witches Dance” - Magia Record OST

Idk, feels like her fight theme

”Roki” - Mikito P

…Vibes. Entirely vibes. Dunite should start a band /hj.

Starro

“Please Never Fall In Love Again” - Ollie MN

I just…him. Singing this. About Conny. I swear to cheese.

Vaga and Nova

“Class Dance - Rensho Kyoku I” - Princess Tutu OST

…Vibes.

Odette

”Vocalise Op. 34 No. 14” - Madoka Magica OST

Vibes. Piano. Sad string accompaniment. Must I say more?

Achilles

“Doubt #2” - Madoka Magica: Rebellion OST

Starting to notice a pattern with the kingdom characters lol?

Joofie’s Characters

Cardlan

“Main Character” - Will Wood

Ego. So, so much Ego.

“Sayo-Nara” - DDLC OST

I have my reasons.

Minimi

“Not Yet (Epilogue)” - Madoka Magica: Rebellion OST

Accordion and a little bit of ominousness. Vibes.

Xeyshattersiltav1a’s Characters

Sun

“Cowboy Dan” - Modest Mouse

Yee-haw sun. Do not give that woman a truck. Wow, these descriptions are getting terrible lol.

”Popular” - Wicked Soundtrack

Wicked but it’s sun and Dusk lives in my head rent free okay

“Alright” - Mother Mother

please help me I keep making up sun animatics with this song in class

Mix

“Something, Everything is Wrong” - Madoka Magica: Rebellion OST

This song is the reason I associate Mix with the accordion. Also, I imagine Dusk meeting him/his first real introduction in TAOCC’s background music as this song.

“Intertwined” - CMYK, CircusP.

Rip this man’s love life

“Love is War” - Ryo/Supercell feat. Hatsune Miku

Love is still Vehicular Manslaughter /ref

Dialtone

“Cats!” - waterflame

Does the song fit him? Not at all! It is way too techy and upbeat, and would probably better suit someone like Switch. But like….cats. He’d listen to a song called “cats!”. You can’t convince me otherwise.

“Want You Gone” - The Portal OST

Dialtone is GLaDOS coded to me.

“Killer Spider” - PinnoccioP

vibes and vibes alone.

Soup’s Characters

Silhouette

“Scared of you” - Brandon Hesslau

“Whoops, sorry for kinda almost killing you.”

”What Gave It Away” - Riproducer

evil.

”Burial Ground” - Low Roar

sad backstory.mp3.

Clown

“I’m Number One” - Muppets Most Wanted Soundtrack

Look man he’s silly and egotistical and it’s funny. He’s definitely singing this with carbine.

Autumn’s Characters

Pyxel

”Magical Doctor” - MARETU

once again, more vibes than lyrics and the gender’s wrong but, like, the vibes, man

Neb

“Lonely UFO” - PinnoccioP

…it doesn’t fit. The lyrics, as far as I can tell, do NOT fit. BUT LOOK AT THE OUTFIT, THE BLUE HAIR AND VOID SKIN AND MURDER TEETH AND TELL ME THAT DOESN’T LOOK LIKE NEB, OKAY?!

“Finding Sanctuary” - Stellaris OST

Silly space song for silly space person.

Lily’s Characters

The bookend siblings, and I mean all of them as a group, Katrina included for brevity’s sake

“Magical Girl and Chocolate” - PinnoccioP

Okay, I have actual reasoning for this one. Each of the siblings is someone’s “magical girl”, whether metaphorically or literally. They’re each fighting to protect and support someone. And they each strain and struggle to cope with a role too demanding for them. This song works for each of them in a different form and context.

Octavia and Steven/Sign

“Isn’t it “A”” - PinnoccioP

The arguments of all time

Honse- I mean Sophro

“Puzzle” - CMYK, CircusP

He’s just here to help. No notes.

Miscellaneous Others/Not big enough for their own section

Lantern

“Lantern” - Undertale OST

…self explanatory. The song’s vibes fit, too, I imagine this plays in his scenes.

“The Other One Left” - VaneLily

Half due to the “I just want a loving father” line. Gender’s wrong, again, but otherwise the lyrics fit.

Seer

“Seer’s Theme” - Cindy

I literally cannot outdo her own theme. It’s just too good. I listen to it randomly just because I like it so much /gen.

Sigil

“I’m Just Ken” - Barbie Movie Soundtrack

this is mostly a joke but come ON you think that guy doesn’t feel a little overshadowed by his GODDESS FIANCÉE?!

“Business Man” - Tom Cardy

Okay so this one takes some explaining because I imagine sigil walking into Dialtone’s place to spy and Insanity ruining everything and shooting everyone. It makes absolutely no sense but it’s funny in my head so here we are.

My Characters, yes this is gonna be last

Dusk

“Ultimate Senpai” - PinocchioP

A song about being overly pressured and stuff? Yeaaaaah.

“Sis Puella Magia!” - Madoka Magica Soundtrack

….Pretty. That’s it.

Aoki

“Decretum” - Madoka Magica Soundtrack

The reason I gave him a violin.

Alpenglow

“Yume Yume” - DECO*27

I have an ENTIRE ANIMATIC for chip and alpen with this song in my head

Lemonade

“Viva La Vida” - Coldplay

lore. Hehe.

Yume

“What are Children Made Of?” - PinnoccioP

This kid’s childhood has been ruined and boy is processing that hard.

”Everything about Animals” - PinocchioP

an absolute fever dream of a song that she would absolutely sing about animals. And how cool they are. And ohhhh look commentary on the state of humanity

Switchboard

“Kom Susser Tod” - Astrophysics

Idk it doesn’t fit all too well but the mix of utter hopelessness and eurobeat techno is just hercore

TAOCC as a whole

“Something Rotten!/Make an Omelette” - Something Rotten Soundtrack

WHEN I TELL YOU I HAVE AN ENTIRE. FREAKING. ANIMATIC-

”Your Silver Garden” - Madoka Magica OST

I do not know the lyrics literally at all but I could see an OP for TAOCC with this song

#Taocc #i am terrified that people will criticize my choices here lol #Yes they make no sense I know that

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astro-break · 1 year

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Back on my copium but I love how there is a difference between pre-war Rei and !/!! Era Rei. I think it just speaks to how great of an actor Toshiki Masuda is that he can do this but I am loving the slight vocal inflections that set the two apart and how the animation team was able to animate his dancing differently as well

For clarity sake, War Era Rei will be referred to as OreRei while !/!! Era Rei will be referred to as simply Rei

I think it comes to no surprise to anyone that the 3D MV of Eccentric Party Night is set during the war. Kanata’s long hair gives it away really but take a listen at Rei’s very first line

あたりまえじゃ収まりきらない

In the original version his voice is steady and keeps the same high but stable tone. OreRei though puts emphasis on the た (ta) and growl on ま (ma) . His movements are also a lot more dramatic. The MV has Rei sweeping his hands up and out in a circle above his head and holds out his hand. Very relaxed, very in tune with his soft singing. But the 3D MV has OreRei leaning forward with sweeping hands over his face, teeth barred, putting on a grand show. There’s also the drop shadow and the brief moment where he sticks out his tongue during “Are you ready for Eccentric Party” OreRei is very obviously the leader, leading the 5 into the main stage, stepping aside for Wataru’s part, fist bumping Natsume and dragging him into their shared verse while looking back to make sure that he’s following, meeting Shu at his own pace but still offering a high-five which the other takes, he also leads them into the chorus. In contrast, Rei supports the other eccentrics by taking the camera off him in favor of more group shots. He lets the others take the spotlight and also follows the dance routine a lot more strictly. I know that a lot of it could be because these are two different animation styles they’re using so not everything will be the same, but its a very interesting difference anyways.

もう誰もたどり着けない

again you get a growl with 誰 (dare) while 着けない (tsukenai) is a lot raspier in comparison to his solid soft singing style in the next year. Rei is a lot like a steady presence in the ! version of Eccentric Party Night and his singing reflects how he’s settled into the role of the “Wise old mentor” as he keeps a solid base for everyone else to build up off of. OreRei on the other hand is very in your face, always ready to take the head and charge forward. Even in the second “Eccentric Party Night!” that he shares with Wataru, he is in front of everyone except Wataru who is taking up the whole damn screen. He’s doing his best to protect them all ;^; He’s noticeably also very energetic here, his kick right into the camera being a perfect example. OreRei also has a lot more control of his expressions, his wide grin for the audience, soft indulgence for the eccentrics, he even jumps higher and with more energy, knees pressed together rather than apart as Rei does in the regular MV. Even with all of his straight lines in the dace segments, Rei tends to bend his arms and knees a lot more than OreRei does, having that sense of softness and lethargy. Rei does channel a little but of his old Demon King persona in the final 踊れ (odore) Party Night, spreading out his hands as if to show off his chosen family as to camera solely focus on him. OreRei does the same, but the camera instead focuses on all 5 of them and their united nature.

One interesting change from the MV though is that its Kanata and Natsume who are on the right and left of OreRei while its Wataru and Shu who are beside Rei. Could it be that because Eccentric Part Night was Natsume’s pipe dream that he stands beside the leader while Wataru was the one who put into motion Origin vs Altered? I’m not sure the creative process behind this one since I would assume it would be Wataru on the right, Kanata on the left bc of their 3 Gods position while Itsuki is beside Wataru and Natsume with Kanata. That formation just makes more sense with how the 5 Eccentrics operated as a group but I guess we’ll find out in the new event

regardless, i do very much love OreRei. its very nice to hear those vocal inflections that set him apart from regular Rei. He’s very cool I think when he’s playing up that demon king persona. Just hearing the difference, I think I understand why Koga looked up to him so much, his OreRei voice is perfect for a rock band. He’s also generally a lot cooler as OreRei and carries a lot more stage presence, fitting for the former Student President and Leader of the Eccentrics. Rei on the other hand is not a pathetic wet noodle ^^

#enstars #ensemble stars #5 eccentrics #analysis #i really don't like rei i say as i write a whole fucking essay on him #ive fallen into the ritsu mindset of preferring orerei more than rei

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artsy-hobbitses · 11 months

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I’d love to know more about blurr in your au.

They look so pretty

Oooh definitely still putting them together in my head!

But what I know about Beauregard ‘Beau’ Laourou as of now:

- They have a similar background to Drift/The Lambo Twins ie. rough upbringing, likely the eldest in a household of immigrants from Benin.

- Developed their powers at an early age and was cunning enough to keep it mostly hidden and use it subtly to steal and help keep their family fed.

- At one point of time however, Beau slipped up and Stole From The Wrong People, specifically someone related to the CEO of a sports company. This CEO stopped cops from roughing them up and brought them to her office, showing that she has CCTV footage of the entire incident, revealing them to be an Outlier. Their indignation when they ask her why she bothered bringing them here just to show them the evidence that will put them away turns to confusion when she says she’s willing to drop all charges, sweep this under the carpet and pull their family out from poverty… if they work for her. Stealing? they ask her, even more perplexed. No, you silly little whippet, she wants you to run for her.

- And run for her they do! The CEO basically sponsors Beau and turns them into the company cash cow as the Next Big Trackstar (basically living the dream Drift would have shared). They learn to hold back just enough to come out on top all the time within an ‘acceptable’ speed without raising suspicion. Product endorsement deals, parties, medals, interviews in GQ, they’ve got ALL of it, without breaking a sweat.

- But Beau’s not entirely happy. They’re aware that their family (save a younger sister) and even extended family sees them as a cash cow, and has more than once overheard arguments over how their wealth should be divided up in their absence. The inability to run, REALLY run also eats at them—the gnawing notion that to be accepted the way they are now, they have to be ‘handicapped’. As is the need to present themself in a Certain Way to keep up sales and deals for their company. It all feels hollow.

- And the anxiety over how long this house of cards may last creeps in when Beau sees a racehorse being shot after breaking a leg on the track (they had, on a whim, bet on this horse earlier). It makes them wonder what the hell the recourse is if they one day aren’t able to run any more. At some point during this time, they adopt a former racing Greyhound after finding out just how many of these animals are euthanized after they’re unable to perform anymore. (Remember the nickname the CEO gave them as a delinquent teen back then—‘Whippet’ ie. little racing dog).

Past this point it gets a little fuzzy for me. I know an argument breaks out between Beau and the CEO when they find out the company is funding Pro-Functionist politicians—CEO claims this is to ensure the status quo remains stable, because instability = closing the tracks—but Beau brings up the fact that it’s people like that who are the reason that their true identity as an Outlier has to be hidden in the first place. It turns acrimonious when Beau decides this is the time to leave, leading to CEO claiming that EVERYTHING Beau is today is because of her, which Beau counters with that company didn’t give them their gift, only sought to control and commercialize it, and (after CEO threatens to out them in an attempt to cow them) toss them aside when they’re no longer useful or compliant. And they’re done with that. If she wants to set the govt on them GO AHEAD, but those bastards would have to catch them first.

Still trying to figure out how they come into contact with the rebellion, but it is likely somewhat similar to the IDW version, with them having to deliver a message from OP to someone important, except it’s not Zeta Prime this time, it’s Rebellion!Megatron (pre-warlord days)

#inbox #Blurr #save for later

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themaresnest-dumblr · 6 months

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Geordie Walker

When you've had a tooth pulled out, stinking from a giant abscess that's ruined the last few months of your life, with a chunk of your jawbone drilled out and filled in with human cadaver so a new one can be put in come a few months time, then the gums stapled together in the hope the whole bloody mess will stay in place, as the local anaesthetics and the pre-op codeine wear off, you think that nothing can take your mind off how much pain you're in, and nothing in your day could possibly get any worse.

Until you discover from hits to your Dumblr that Geordie Walker, guitarist of Killing Joke has died.

Whereupon, all of a sudden, you no longer care if the dentist had kicked the tooth out of your head with steel toe capped Dr Marten boots - because it would never be a bigger kick in the teeth than this.

The word was the result of a massive stroke. The cleanest living of the band's golden trio of Jaz Coleman and Youth (who'd drank and drugged themselves into different dimensions, let alone excess, whereas Geordie's foible was for a glass of fine red wine) and yet the first to die.

How bitterly ironic. How very Killing Joke.

If Hollywood's golden era had produced guitarists instead of movie stars, it would have produced Geordie Walker, a guitarist as ludicrously handsome as he was ludicrously talented.

No band has ever sounded quite like Killing Joke, that distinctive harsh yet atmospheric, ethereal sound that suggested sweeping dramatic landscapes and nature at the raw, a band who made albums that sounded unintentionally like the soundtrack to an epic movie not yet written let alone filmed.

A sound they had, lost and then rediscovered with a vengeance in an era most of their contemporaries were doing nothing but tread water with turgid rehashs of their golden moments and in some cases copies; indeed, to the extent in the last decade Killing Joke alone of their peers were enjoying something of a golden age, each album not merely outselling the last, but selling as many as during their 80s and 90s heydays.

Geordie was the central part of that sound along with Jaz - indeed without each other Killing Joke never, ever sounded, or could have sounded the same. With his trademark old fashioned old hollow-bodied Gibson guitar and understated stage presence - no limelight hogging theatrics for one who let his music do the talking - he brought calm and class to the rich chaos and mayhem Jaz so gleefully dipped into, and together produced a blend so perfect, distinctly their own, it proved impossible for anyone to imitate - which was partly their handicap as their strength. Like Cardiacs, pretty tough to gain popular acclaim when no one can join in but only spectate.

It took a long time for the band to be given their due, and it is bittersweet that Geordie should leave centre stage forever just as the band had reached the height of its powers and still climbing.

But by plumbob, if ever there was a guitarist whose legacy was assured to last fickle fads and the test of time ...

youtube

#geordie walker #killing joke

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skypiea · 11 months

Note

You can totally ignore this if you want, your opinions are valid and i get real anxious so i tend to stay on anon, but i thought i could share my perspective! As a trans person it bothers me when people make egg jokes, not because being trans is bad of course, but because it feels weird to me to speculate on someone elses gender identity or sexuality, when you dont know their relationship with those things or what they are going through. Ive often been told i am things that i am not and it tends to make me frustrated. I would also not like it if someone was making jokes about my autism, unless they had established that i was ok with it first. Again, these are my own comfort levels and my experiences are not universal! Unrelated, but I also really like your art! Hope i wasnt obnoxious with this, have a good day

I think that’s a fair thing to dislike! The thing I think is overlooked is that the most common example in that post going around is a harmless joke. The op of the thread is not saying that random stranger is 100% going to transition in the future—they’re making a joke, likely seeing a reflection of their own experiences. The statement is simply “there is precedent for people who say something like this later understanding that they have a desire to transition”. It was not said to the stranger’s face, nor were they told that they need to transition into women. It was someone remarking on a funny little occurrence in their everyday life, and for some reason, people seem to be treating it as something that it is not. It was intended for a trans person to share with likely other trans individuals for a relatable laugh, and not… whatever it’s become.

I agree that people should not say things to other people about their identity or presumed future identities that are overstepping a personal boundary. I am a huge hater of the many, many armchair psychiatrists on the internet. But I think this situation has been misconstrued into painting a trans person as some sort of… aggressive pusher of transgenderism onto all cis people? Which is… disconcertingly close to right-wing transphobic rhetoric.

Tl;dr: I think the context and subject of these kinds of remarks are important and one should avoid broad sweeping statements about the morality of commenting on behaviors commonly associated with pre-transition individuals. Someone telling a mundane little story about something they witnessed at the store is not equivalent to telling someone they’re going to transition in the future.

It reminds me of someone seeing a kid who loves animals and speculating on them becoming a veterinarian in the future. There’s no harm in this, in my opinion. As long as you don’t try to force anyone down any path, it’s fine. Completely fine if you disagree, this is just my thinking ^^

#kite.txt #apologies if I sound austere at all LOL when I try to organize my thoughts it tends to come out rather dry #but thank you very much for the ask! not a bother at all #I appreciate hearing other people’s thoughts on this #I think the two of us are on the same page. my main gripe is the tweet in the post #have a good day as well!! and thank you for the kind comment :-)

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ms-m-astrologer · 2 years

Text

Cosmic Events: July 2022

Lunar Phases

Sunday, July 2, 05:11 UT - Crescent Moon, 26:17 Leo

Thursday, July 7, 02:14 UT - First Quarter Moon, 14:59 Libra

Sunday, July 10, 14:02 UT - Gibbous Moon, 3:18 Sagittarius

Wednesday, July 13, 18:38 UT - Full Moon, 21:21 Capricorn

Saturday, July 16, 23:55 UT - Disseminating Moon, 9:25 Pisces

Wednesday, July 20, 14:19 UT - Last Quarter Moon, 27:52 Aries

Sunday, July 24, 14:52 UT - Balsamic Moon, 16:42 Gemini

Thursday, July 28, 17:55 UT - New Moon, 5:39 Leo

This is a medium-sized doozy of a chart: the lunation is applying a trine to Jupiter, which is less than three hours away from its retrograde station. It’s also conjunct the Lady Asteroid Ceres. The trine makes us want to do things in a big way - we’re fiery and fierce, maybe a little overconfident and loud and bossy - but it also gives us generosity, nobility, and luck. Ceres gives us interests in/with our families (biological or found), children and children’s concerns, and food and nutrition. I have the image of a great big happy family reunion, that sort of celebratory vibe.

Void of Course Moon

Thursday, June 30, 20:14 UT (Cancer) - Friday, July 1, 00:40 UT (Leo)

Sunday, July 3, 09:59 UT (Leo) - 12:31 UT (Virgo)

Tuesday, July 5, 18:04 UT (Virgo) - 22:25 UT (Libra)

Friday, July 8, 01:04 UT (Libra) - 05:15 UT (Scorpio)

Sunday, July 10, 04:34 UT (Scorpio) - 08:34 UT (Sagittarius)

Tuesday, July 12, 01:42 UT (Sagittarius) - 09:01 UT (Capricorn)

Thursday, July 14, 04:17 UT (Capricorn) - 08:13 UT (Aquarius)

Saturday, July 16, 04:36 UT (Aquarius) - 08:18 UT (Pisces)

Monday, July 18, 07:01 UT (Pisces) - 11:17 UT (Aries)

Wednesday, July 20, 14:19 UT (Aries) - 18:23 UT (Taurus)

Friday, July 22, 23:45 UT (Taurus) - Saturday, July 23, 05:11 UT (Gemini)

Monday, July 25, 08:14 UT (Gemini) - 17:54 UT (Cancer)

Thursday, July 28, 00:54 UT (Cancer) - 06:36 UT (Leo)

Saturday, July 30, 04:29 UT (Leo) - 18:11 UT (Virgo)

Notice that they get longer and longer as the month goes on?

Retrograde/Direct/Etc.

Juno/Pisces begins the month in her pre-retrograde shadow, and stations retrograde on Monday, July 25.

Vesta/Pisces begins the month in her pre-retrograde shadow, and stations retrograde on Thursday, July 7.

Jupiter/Aries begins the month in its pre-retrograde shadow, and stations retrograde on Thursday, July 28.

Saturn/Aquarius is retrograde all month.

Chiron/Aries stations retrograde on Tuesday, July 19.

Neptune/Pisces is retrograde all month.

Pluto/Capricorn is retrograde all month.

That may seem like a lot of retrograde, and there’s still more to come….

Ingresses

Tuesday, July 5, 06:04 UT - transiting Mars enters Taurus

Tuesday, July 5, 06:25 UT - transiting Mercury enters Cancer

Monday, July 18, 01:32 UT - transiting Venus enters Cancer

Tuesday, July 19, 12:35 UT - transiting Mercury enters Leo

Friday, July 22, 20:07 UT - transiting Sun enters Leo

Saturday, July 23, 17:25 UT - transiting Ceres enters Leo

Opportunity Periods

Sunday, July 3, 01:55 UT - 09:59 UT. “Excellent opportunity to initiate projects that involve communcation, social activities, leadership, etc.”

Sunday, July 10, 00:56 UT - 04:34 UT. “Use this OP for serious and constructive work.”

Friday, July 15, 23:27 UT - Saturday, July 16, 04:36 UT. “Good time for communications, establishing connections, or consolidating existing networks.”

Monday, July 18, 03:07 UT - 11:17 UT. “Great to use for the arts, fun, mind expansion, or anything you choose.”

Friday, July 22, 19:45 UT - Saturday, July 23, 05:11 UT. “Use this time to revamp your space and clear away any unnecessary clutter during the Last Quarter Moon.”

Thursday, July 28, 17:25 UT - 18:25 UT. “This Cazimi Moon is usable 1/2 hour before and 1/2 hour after the Sun-Moon conjunction. If you have something important to start around now, this is a great time to do it.”

Et Cetera

Since December 13, 2021, we haven’t had any planets in the “interpersonal” signs - Leo, Virgo, Libra, Scorpio - just the Moon, sweeping through once a month. And I can argue that in all this time we’ve all been feeling the weight of the world on our shoulders (via so many planets in “transpersonal” signs, Sagittarius, Capricorn, Aquarius, Pisces) - which has been overwhelming, to say the least.

We also have been more focused on ourselves and our individual problems, as planets move through the “personal” signs (Aries, Taurus, Gemini, Cancer).

That’s all going to change during the five days which see Mercury, the Sun, and Ceres enter Leo (in that order). All of a sudden: “Wow! Other people exist! Oh brave new world that hath such people in it!”

This is great news - being balanced is (almost) always a good thing, and we’ve been missing the whole “interpersonal” piece for several months, except sporadically when the Moon is there. I think we’re going to be very excited and eager about it, too - at least to start with.

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the-rainbow-overflow · 1 year

Text

Drabble title: Surgery for a songbird Characters: Viroxa Galrix(picture), Unnamed bronze Summery: A brief peak into the work of a cerulean doctor and one of his many “patients”.

Very dark themes ahead, check the tags, I attempted to tag everything I could think of.If you think of others that should be here, let me know

Disclaimer: Fully aware this guy is fucked up. I don't condone any of his actions (obviously). This is a fictional character, and does horrendous fictional deeds. Read at your own discretion.

----------------------------------

Dark...

Cold... It's... cold.

“Ah, there we are. Welcome back to the waking world moonlight. Have a nice rest?”

Voice... Bad... Voice.

“Ah ah ah, no. You know the rules, no thrashing. We don’t want you hurting yourself do we? Well... not that you could feel it if you did. Still nice and numb from the medicine I hope.”

Force... Moving... Pushed... Down... Laying... No... Bad

"Today's the day, you are going to make the hopes and dreams of a young bronzie come true."

No...

“... You’d think this gets easier with each of these appointments. Sadly that rarely seems to be the case. Most of my donors get cold feet like you do. Every time... "

Escape... Move... Escape... Help.

"..."

"... Moonlight, please. I told you to stop thrashing... You're going to make this much harder for everyone involved. We go over this so frequently..."

No... No!

"Sigh... I had hoped the removal of your legs would have prompted a little more cooperation from you. I had assumed by the third neural vivisection you'd have dropped these pre-op anxieties, dear... Perhaps I expect too much, but really my dear, this is getting a bit old..."

"Alright, that's enough..."

Still... Be still.... No... Be still. Shh. Still... Escape!

Honestly I hate to raise my abilities to you moonlight, really you know I do, but really you give me no choice. All that movement could cause my scalpel to slip... There were go. Nice and still. Now stay just as you are while I get my tools, please. Removal of the vocal cords is a very tedious task. Soon enough though, you'll be helping a most lovely young lady sing to her heart's content for the first time in sweeps. Tragic life that one has lived, but you, you're going to give her her happy ending. I hear from a credible source your voice is quite heavenly. She'll be happy to carry its torch to an audience."

Still. Stop... Be still... Please... Still... Please stop.. Shh

"... Aw. Now now, don't give me the waterworks. This is a good thing, moonlight. Such a songbird's voice wasting away in the streets. It was only a matter of time before the drones came for you, you know. If the circus didn't scoop you up for their own entertainment. A barbaric lot that bunch can be... A homeless bronze blood, blood of your lussus still staining your clothes. I'd have given you a day if not hours. All that potential that would have gone to such a waste. To leave you out there would be to leave you for death. And we simply couldn't have that, could we?"

Death...Shh.. Die... Die... You're ok... please... Everything is fine... I don't...

"I envy you a little, honestly. A bit of you is going to reach the masses someday. A translator for that troll's hopes and dreams. An honorable position a piece of you will hold. Just as your legs helped that kind young man walk again. What was his name again. Was it-... Hm .. no that's not it..."

Name... What... Name... My... Name... Did I... Have? I... Hive... want...Go hive...

"Here we are. Everything nice and ready here. Now we can begin the operation. This'll be over in just a moment just hold still..."

Stop. Shh. Stop. Stop. Calm.. STOP

----------------------------------

In the quiet of a lab, the sound of a man at work are all a mind can hear. The quick, precise snipping of a surgical scalpel and scissors against wet skin every few moments. He's accompanied by the hum of machinery, it's many wires and tubes that run to and fro. Through these artificial veins pumped the false blood that kept his patient's body operational.

He could be like this for days if given the chance. The rush of adrenaline his line of work gave him was matched only by the knowledge of how much joy it brought his clients. Repurposing these old parts, rescuing them from their wasteful end, that's what this was all about. Efficiency, and the extended life of those who'd soon have had theirs torn from them. But until every part had found its purpose, he'd need to keep them fresh, usable. Alive.

A challenging task, for sure. He was more than willing to accept such a task, however. The fusing of metal and flesh, such a wonderfully interesting concept. To extend the time of the temporary, with the cold, hard exterior of eternity.

It's exciting, is it not? When the removal of his chosen parts was complete, he's quick to set it aside, iced and prepared for transplantation. Now comes the next phase of the procedure, he thinks to himself as he lifts his drill from the table.

----------------------------------

A lone mind sits in darkness.

It has not been able to see for some time now.

It can not count the days, nor nights.

Its mind screams to move, but its body lacks the strength, the will nor range to move from its confinements. So often it has tried to scream, but found no jaw to move. No tongue to form words.

Blind eyes weep tears of bronze down metal cheeks as it is pushed back into its container. It can sense this. The moving air over its numbed face one of the few senses it has been left with, if faded and distant.

It has stopped again.

Consciousness would soon cease again. It always did.

It is scared.

How much did he take this time.

How much will he take next?

Is it... Even a troll, anymore?

Will the next one be the last?

It doesn't know. It wants to leave. It wants to see again. It wants to feel grass upon its skin, rain upon its head.

The form lay strapped to a surgical table. It's body a mix of contorted flesh, carved away in places then wrapped in bandages. What wasn't wrapped was capped or welded shut with shiny grey metal, aside from its chest currently. The cavity pulled open and back to display what few organs remained like a frog on a lab student's table. Its most vitals long since having begun the pilfering and replacement process; ticking gears were a heart once beat, bloated sacks where its lungs once breathed. It's blood, once a vibrant bronze now diluted with artificial replacers, heavy in sedative drugs. Perhaps the only thing keeping the agony from this butchered existence at bay. What was likely a blessing at first now a curse as it longs for the feeling of anything at all, even pain, discomfort, something. It's thoughts have become lesser with each day of dismemberment. Its name lost, its identity, if it had one before, now lost in the wind. It remembers being called she once. But even that feels like an eternity ago, far from reach and lost in obscurity. It was only a matter of time before that too was taken.

It can feel itself slipping away again as it joins the others in storage. Back into unconsciousness. Back into the long dark before the repeat. Just like the times before, it's thoughts are few of words but consistent. A plea. A cry.

Kill... Me...

#gore ment tw #body horrow cw #dismemberment mention cw #doctor cw #medical malpractice cw #torture cw #mind control cw #manipulation cw #idek what other tags to put #Viroxa Galrix #long post #amputation mention cw

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gothmods · 2 years

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⬆️ statements that make me suspect op is skinny...

Transandrophobia posters make the most irritating sweeping statements about "the" transmasc experience.

No one in my teenage years thought i was or could be pretty or girly. I was a fat hairy autistic kid. Even when i was pre-transition and dressing fem i was identified as gnc, failing at womanhood etc etc by both peers and complete strangers.

Femininity was something i was socially excluded from, and my coming out and transition only resulted in pressure to quash any effeminacy because contrary to what some people seem to think the medical and social structures that enforce gender do not reward transitioning to being a fag

#f slur

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mikiruma · 2 years

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lrb shows god forbid you have any criticism towards your own communities, i for one loathe online transmasc spaces for how quickly they get overrun by transmeds/truscum and how many think it's perfectly ok to tell feminine or pre-/never-op trans guys how dysphoric they make them for the crime of not being born with top surgery scars or passing as cis as soon as you come out. literally as someone who leans more on the masc end and desperately wants to start t and get top surgery, those spaces made me hate myself for years and worsened my dysphoria. and they claim it's a good thing because it "weeds out fakes."

anyway tangent here so i didn't detract but i understand what op is saying and it hurts that ppl were faster to imply she was outside the community and making a sweeping attack vs an actual person whispering concerns onto her blog, not expecting waves of ppl to start shitting on her about it

#talking #ask to tag #shit like this is exactly why infighting is pointless #alienating your own community is not progress at all actually!

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anotherspnfanfic · 3 years

Text

Overloaded

Pairing: Dr Dean x nurse reader

Word count: 1584

Warnings: minor injury

Squares filled: Hospital AU for @spndeanbingo and Doctor AU for @supernatural-jackles Tell Me a Story Bingo

Summary: Working too many hours and being short handed leads to a breaking point.

~~~

Gabe pushed the wheelchair off the elevator into the ED. She bit her lip to muffle her whimper as the small bump jostled her foot. “Sorry,” Gabe murmured as he wheeled her towards the nurses station. “Hey, Charlie, you got an open room? She needs an x-ray.”

Charlie turned to see who Gabe was referring to. “Oh, what happened?” she asked, seeing the pain on her friend’s face.

Before either of them could explain, Dean came out of an exam room and spotted her. “My nurses are not supposed to be in wheelchairs. Especially not my favorite one,” he said as he walked over and squatted down to her level. He noticed her puffy eyes as he carefully pulled up the pant leg on her elevated foot. He echoed Charlie’s question, “What happened, sweetheart?”

She rubbed a hand across her forehead as she glanced at the floor. “I missed a step, or maybe two. I landed wrong on my ankle. I'm pretty sure it’s broken. It hurts a lot.”

Dean raised an eyebrow as he stood and moved to take over Gabe’s position. “Okay, let's get you checked out.”

“Exam 4 is open,” Charlie said.

Dean turned to Gabe as he pushed her toward the room. “Can you go grab the portable x-ray and 25 mcg fentanyl, please?”

Once they were in the exam room, Dean offered his hand to help her stand on her good leg. He leaned over and lifted her carefully and then set her on the bed. She tried not to whine as the movement sent pain shooting up her leg. “Damn it. This sucks,” she said.

He situated the bed so she was laid nearly flat and got her foot elevated on a couple pillows. “1-10—how’s the pain?” Dean asked, as he tossed a blanket over her.

“Uhh, about a 6.”

Dean nodded. “Gabe should be back with the pain meds in a minute. So, you missed a step?” he asked as he started to check her vitals.

“Yeah, I was playing with my phone and I missed it,” she explained. He gave her a skeptical look.

Before he could say anything more, Gabe appeared and handed Dean a syringe. “I figured you’d want that first. I’ll be right back with the x-ray.”

Dean finished recording her temp and BP, then pushed the sleeve of her scrubs up her shoulder and cleaned a spot with an alcohol wipe. “Little pinch,” he warned. “Babe, you can maneuver all the stairs in this building backwards, hands full, and with your eyes closed. You sure you just missed it?” he asked.

She broke eye contact as she contemplated her answer carefully, knowing he could tell when she was lying. “No,” she mumbled. “I might have been a little dizzy, too.”

He reached his index finger under her chin to force her eyes to meet his. “Any guesses why you were dizzy?”

She pulled away enough to drop her gaze back down to the bed and shrugged almost imperceptibly. “Low blood sugar, maybe? Probably,” she mumbled the last word. She fiddled with the corner of the blanket almost nervously, not wanting to see the disappointment and concern on his face.

He hummed. “So you didn’t miss a step. You fainted?”

She sighed in defeat. “Yeah.”

“Have you eaten anything since the granola bar I brought you,” he paused to check his watch, “five hours ago?”

She shook her head and pulled the barely-touched bar from her pocket. “I got busy and then I forgot it was there.”

“What about water? Have you been drinking?” he probed. She simply shook her head, still refusing to make eye contact. “So you’re probably dehydrated, too.”

She shrugged.

He sighed. “You really have got to take better care of yourself. I love how much you care for everyone around you, but you have to come first once in a while. Otherwise, you won’t be able to help anyone.”

“I just get so busy that I forget sometimes.”

He pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. “We are going to work on that.”

Before she could add anything, Gabe pushed the x-ray into the room, and within a few minutes, they had all the images they needed of her ankle.

“Definitely very broken,” Dean stated. “Gabe, can you run a CBC and BMP and then start an IV of normal saline while I go page Sammy, please?”

“You got it, boss.”

“Wait!” she yelled before he could disappear out the door. “Why are you paging Sam?”

He turned back to face her. “Did you hit your head, too? You broke your ankle; we need an ortho consult. That would be Sam.”

She let out a frustrated groan as Dean left.

Gabe patted her shoulder before wrapping the tourniquet around her arm. “Maybe try not falling down the stairs next time.”

She rolled her eyes and looked away from what he was doing. “Oh, my god. Why didn’t I think of that?!”

He finished the blood draw and got the IV set up. Next, he carefully fluffed the pillows under her foot to ensure it was elevated enough. “You are all set. Do you need anything else right now?”

“Not unless you have a time machine.”

“A day do-over? Let’s see.” Gabe snapped his fingers and then spun around. “Damn. It was worth a shot.”

She tried to contain her smile as she rolled her eyes at him. “Thanks for trying, I guess.”

Ten minutes later, she was dozing off when Dean returned with Sam close behind. Dean ran a comforting hand over her head to ensure she was awake.

Sam took a few minutes to read over the x-rays. He turned away from the light board and walked over to the foot of the bed. “Unstable bimalleolar fracture,” he stated as he inspected her ankle. “You just bought yourself surgery and a vacation.”

“No way,” she blurted. “I can’t. We’re already short staffed.”

Sam shrugged. “It’s not exactly optional. Good news, though: the swelling isn’t too bad yet, I happen to be free in 45 minutes, and you haven’t eaten anything in hours. So we can do this today.”

Charlie joined them to give Dean her lab results. He turned to address her. “Just like I thought: mild dehydration and your blood sugar is at 58.” Dean flipped through the info again before handing it over to Sam. “Okay. So I’ll add glucose to her IV and get her up to pre-op.”

“Perfect. Make sure you keep her foot elevated.”

Dean rolled his eyes dramatically. “Do you think this is my first day?”

Sam shrugged. “Just making sure, Jerk.”

“Bitch,” Dean grumbled quietly.

Sam turned his attention back to her. “I’ll see you soon, Shortie. I’ll getcha all fixed up. Sound like a plan?”

She gave him a lazy thumbs up. “Thanks, Gigantor.”

“Can you send Gabe back in here on your way past?” Dean requested. Sam simply nodded as he turned to leave.

Dean returned his focus to her. “How’s the pain now?”

She scrunched up her nose as she considered her answer. “Um, about one and a half.” She laughed at herself.

“That’s good. I see you’re loopy, too.”

She scowled at him. “You’re loopy.”

He just shook his head. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.” Gabe returned and Dean gave him the med order and asked him to take her up to the OR.

“You’re not coming up?” She pouted.

He shook his head. “I can’t. I’ll be there when you wake up, though, I promise.” He took her hand and placed a quick kiss to her knuckles.

As if on cue, Charlie leaned into the room. “Dean, trauma incoming. MVA car vs pedestrian. Ambo is two minutes out.”

“Okay, I'll be there in a second.” He gave her hand one more squeeze before he turned to leave. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

Roughly three hours later, Sam found Dean in the lounge pouring a cup of coffee. He nodded and offered over the now-full cup.

“Thank you.” Sam took a sip of the dark liquid. “We got her all set up in recovery. She should be awake soon.”

“Okay. I’ll head up there in a minute.” Dean took a sip of his own coffee. “Everything went smoothly?”

“I’d have paged you if it hadn’t.”

Dean rolled his eyes.

Sam nodded. “Yes, it went perfectly. It’ll heal up just fine.”

“Thanks, Sammy.”

Wandering into her room, he couldn’t help but smile at how peaceful she looked. He placed his hand softly against her cheek, sweeping his thumb slowly over the skin. She nuzzled into the touch as she lazily opened her eyes. “Hi, sweetheart.”

She gave him a goofy smile. “I like when you call me that.”

“I know you do.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “How do you feel?”

“Sleepy.” She yawned. “And I’m starving. Can you bring me some fries?”

He chuckled. “Well, I’m glad your appetite is back. You get a little more sleep and I’ll bring you fries.”

“And pizza,” she added. Before he could agree, she gasped. “Ice cream!”

“Tell you what: I will get you fries from the cafeteria for you to munch on on the way home and then we can order pizza.”

She pouted as her eyelids started to droop. “What about ice cream?”

His eyebrows scrunched together as he asked, “When do we ever not have ice cream at home?”

“Oh. Yeah. Okay.” She smiled as she finally let herself drift off once more.

~~~

Tags: @deanwasscaredbyacat @babypieandwhiskey @muchamusedaboutnothing @defenderrosetyler @akshi8278 @like-a-bag-of-potatoes

#tell me a story bingo #spndeanbingo #supernatural #spn fanfic #dean x reader #doctor!dean #doctor!sam #dean one shot #dean winchester #my gif #spn #dean winchester x reader #supernatural fanfiction

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

Text

Too Loose And You’ll Lose It

Ch9: Lebanon, Lebagone

Co-written with @icanfeelastormbrewing

Summary: A few months post their reconciliation, Jake and Stella run a mission with the rest of the team…

Pairing: Jake Jensen x OFC Stella Stevenson

Warnings: Bad language, Smut (NSFW, 18+)

Word Count: 8k ish.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. We do not own any characters in this series bar Stella Stevenson and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

A/N: So the mission detailed here was highly inspired by the second book in the Grey Man series. Locations and a few major details are changed, and the names are completely made up. The Terrorist/Political party- The Lebanese Freedom Party, does not to our knowledge actually exist.

Too Loose And You’ll Lose It Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 8

“Alright, let’s get in position before daylight hits.” Clay looked around as they walked down the narrow alleyway.

“Roger that.” Stella nodded as Cougar replied with a tip of his hat to show he had heard, Pooch also inclining his head.

The four of them stopped by a door to their right, Stella pulling the tool from her utility belt which was fastened around the waistband of her camo pants. She picked the lock in under thirty seconds, a simple job that required a little bit of jiggling, twisting and a good jerk with the torque wrench Cougar was holding to defeat.

“Not particularly high security considering this was a bank.” She mumbled as behind her Cougar chuckled.

Inside it was pitch black, dust rose in clouds, shimmering in the moonlight, which was streaking through the dirty arched windows. Both of them flipped out their flashlights, quickly scanning the room for any sign that someone had been here recently, but there was none.

They crossed quietly and quickly through the main atrium of the old building, taking care to keep to the shadows. The old bank was completely deserted bar a few desks and old telephones which sported thick layers of dust as they moved through, heading for the spiral staircase at the far side.

“We’re clear.” Pooch said as he looked up to the top of the staircase. “This place hasn’t been accessed for years.”

“Lima Six, anything to report?” Clay spoke into his radio and a moment later Jensen replied.

“Nothing on the comms, they’re talking about moving Kilo One out at the time we suspected but it could be a rouse to make sure…but Lima Two knows the code-word should they decide to go early.”

“Okay, as soon as you get movement let me know.”

“Ten-four, One.”

“Okay, let’s get set up.” Clay instructed and the team nodded in agreement as they all set about, placing various pieces of equipment around the place exactly where it needed to be for when their target and his security detail, in which Roque had embedded himself undercover, came storming into the pre-designated building, seeking refuge from an attack outside.

It took them roughly an hour to set up completely, things having to be precisely as Pooch directed. Eventually, when he was happy, they climbed the staircase at the back of the room. Four sets of eyes swept the square below. It was deserted, as was to be expected at such an early hour in the morning.

Stella scanned the buildings, nevertheless, her eyes sharp, looking for any sign of movement around the whitewashed and pebble-dashed sandstone that they had grown accustomed to seeing over the last three weeks or so they’d been in Nabatieh, Lebanon.

“So Khalil should be coming from there.” Pooch raised his arm and pointed to a small road to the right. “The plan is we lay down some fire by his bodyguards as he approaches the podium, and force them to take shelter in the bank, as led nicely by Roque.”

“Why do we want this guy alive so badly, anyway?” Stella mumbled to herself. “If he’s such a bastard, why don’t we just kill him? He’s a terrorist leader.”

“The Lebanese Freedom Party ain’t deemed terrorists all over the world.” Pooch grinned and Stella snorted. “Russia views them as a legitimate socio-political force.”

“Russia basically executes people for being gay” She scoffed. “Forgive me for not taking their viewpoint here as the one to set my moral compass against.” She sighed. “Cougs could take one shot, straight in the head. Boom. Job done.”

Cougar chuckled as he unloaded his rifle and stand, looking up at Clay. “She’s not wrong, Boss.”

“Whilst wiping that particular shit stain off the face of the earth might be appealing, they ain’t our orders. We apprehend alive.” Clay spoke, matter of factly and Stella rolled her eyes.

“Whatever helps us sleep at night, huh?”

****

Stella had to hand it to their Intel department. The start of the hit went like clockwork. At bang on the designated time, Jensen radioed in to say that they were moving out and sure enough, twenty minutes or so later he accounted the SUVs and jeeps had left the compound. He joined the rest of the team little over half an hour later, leaving the dirty van he had been driving hidden down a dark alleyway at the back of the bank, behind the one the rest of the team had arrived in and headed into the dank building, wrinkling his nose at the musty air as he walked in.

“Hey.” He greeted Stella, his hand falling to her shoulder as she sat in the back, her attention focussed through the window, a pair of binoculars raised to her eyes.

“Hey.” She whispered back, her gaze flicking to him quickly, flashing him a smile as she turned back to her spotting.

“So I picked up on their coms that they think Khalil’s personal security have done a sweep of the area.” Jensen looked at them. “Roques done his job nicely. They should be entering the square from the South West corner.”

“ETA?” Clay turned to him.

“Less than five minutes.”

“Excellent.” Clay nodded. “So far so good.”

The next five minutes or so passed in silence, all five of the Officers in the room observing the roads leading to the square just in case. Even though their intel was solid, it was drilled into them that they should never rely on it completely.

“Boss,” Cougar spoke suddenly, his shoulders squaring back, “target approaching. Roughly two miles out.”

“Fuck, I got something coming too from the North East.” Pooch groaned.

“What?” Clay demanded.

“I dunno but it looks suspiciously like an ARV.”

“An ARV?” Clay frowned.

“Yup. They’ve stopped. Six hundred yards out.”

“What do you mean they’ve stopped?” Jensen demanded, snatching the binoculars off him.

“What the fuck do you think I mean?” Pooch replied. “They’re not moving.”

“What the fuck is going on?” Stella growled and Clay took the binoculars off Jensen. She watched as Clay took a look before he sighed heavily and dropped his head.

“It’s the Lebanese Special Service. I recognise one of them from a mission a while back.”

“What the hell are they doing here?”

“I should have seen this coming.” Clay bit his lip. “They’re going to hit him at the rally. The false trail we leaked to them means they think we’re moving on him as he makes his way out of town and up to Beirut. They’re going to get in first.”

“It’s a double cross.” Stella looked at Jake and Pooch as she spoke, the pair of them exchanging a look before all eyes bar Cougar’s, which remained firmly fixed on his target, turned to Clay. “Why?”

“Death to the West and all that.” Clay sniffed. “They’re gonna take him out and try and use USA involvement as cover.”

“Don’t they realise that won’t work?” Stella shook her head. “We’re Black Ops, the thick fuckers. As soon as there’s so much of a sniff that shit is going west, the CIA will leave us high and dry, denying they had anything to do with it.”

“So what’s Plan B?” Pooch turned to look Clay. “I’m hoping you got a Plan B, because Plan A is going to shit.”

“Kilo one still approaching.” Cougar stated.

“You got anything special in your arsenal?” Clay turned to Pooch. “As in blow up an ARV special?”

Pooch blinked. “Yeah, the RPG but…”

“Go get it.” Clay instructed.

Pooch didn’t hesitate, he shot off down the stairs and Stella watched him go before she turned her attention back to the large square, which was roughly the size of two football pitches, busy with people bustling about their everyday business.

“If we get this wrong, the whole square is gonna be caught up in a fucking gun fight,” Stella spoke, her eyes falling on a group of kids in the middle.

There was a pause before Clay spoke again. “Khalil is our main objective; we just need to keep collateral to a minimum.”

Collateral. Stella hated that fucking word. She swallowed and looked at Jensen who gave her a small smile, which she returned before she glanced back at the square.

“One mile out.” Cougar informed.

“Okay,” Clay spoke, clapping his hands together. “Pooch, as soon as the LSS move, you shoot that RPG straight at the fuckers.”

“Gladly.” He nodded, “But, chances are if they’ve got an ARV out there then they’ll already have agents on the ground.”

“It doesn’t matter, all we gotta do is get a shot off first. Once that initial gun crack is heard, Khalil’s security outfit are gonna herd him in here anyway. And hopefully, when the LSS get note their vehicle has gone bang it’ll draw them into blowing cover somehow.” Clay nodded. “At least then we’ll be able to spot where they are.” He took a deep breath. “Cougar, keep watch on Khalil. As soon as you get a viable opportunity to lay down the fire, take it.”

Cougs, who hadn’t taken his eye away from the target sight of his gun simply tipped the brim of his hat again with his finger to show he had understood and Clay turned to the other three of them as they waited instructions.

“What about Roque?” Stella asked. “He doesn’t know about the LSS.”

“He’ll roll with the punches.” Clay rubbed his hand over his chin. “Everyone clear?”

“Clear as, boss, it’s a shoot-out.” Jensen snorted, nodding his head as he gave a chuckle. “Good times.”

“If this is your idea of a good time then I’d hate to see a bad one.” Pooch grumbled and Stella gave a chuckle.

“Hey, Poochy, I just like to see the positive in all aspects of life.” Jensen grinned, holding his hands out to the side, palms up. “You’re just grumpy because Jolene’s finally managed to…ouch!” Jensen gave a yelp as Stella punched him hard on the arm. “What was that for, babe?”

Stella shot him a look which instantly shut him up. Pooch had confided in her, Cougar and Jensen no less than two days ago that Jolene was four months pregnant, but he didn’t want to tell Clay or Roque for reasons that he was keeping to himself, as per his prerogative, she supposed. It had made her and Jensen snort a little, as when Aubrey had found out she was pregnant roughly five months or so ago, the entire world had known pretty much before the pee was dry on the test stick. Jensen’s eyes widened as he realised exactly what he’d been about to say and he grimaced, before turning to Pooch, giving him an apologetic look.

“Kilo One is approaching the square.” Cougar spoke, and they all turned their attention to him, stepping forward to the window, Clay observing their surroundings with the binoculars.

“Okay, focus up Losers.” Clay hushed them all, gesturing to Pooch. “Get ready with that RPG”

Pooch shot Jensen one final filthy glare before he stepped forward, resting the grenade launcher on his shoulder.

“Arty, Jensen, in position.” Clay instructed. “Coms on, code names only.”

They both nodded, Stel picking up a device that had been in Pooch’s big bag of tricks, and made their way back to the spiral staircase.

And then, it all happened at once. Clay gave the order to fire and both Pooch and Cougar took their shots at the same time. The popping of guns, sounds of screaming and yelling and a rather large explosion followed by Pooch’s loud chuckles of glee hit their ears and Jensen looked at Stella as they waited at the top of the stairs.

“I really shouldn’t enjoy this as much as I should.” He grinned, and Stella snorted as suddenly the room below them was full of voices, once of which the recognised instantly as Roque. From their extensive planning, Sella knew that they would likely hustle into the room in a tight cordon, with Khalil in the middle and head to the most secure part of the building, the vault. They had no idea how many of the guard had made it into the building with Khalid, but essentially it didn’t matter. The Losers were one step ahead.

As soon as the group made their way towards the main part of the atrium, through the open double doors which led through the cashier area, Jensen grinned at Stella.

“Hit it, babe!”

Stella smirked as she pushed the button on the device she held in her hand. The large electromagnets that had been placed on the locks snapped into place, firing the four inch thick steel bolts into their slots, securing them tightly, ensuring no one could get out, and no one else could get in. Yells of warnings rang out about the place as the guards instantly wheeled round, their guns raised and Roque’s eyes flickered upwards to where they were hidden on the veranda above. Jensen raised his right hand, his index and middle finger extended and he waved them across his face, indicating that their next move was about to go down. Roque made no sign he’d seen them, bar a quick double-blink.

“I’m sorry, pal.” Jensen grimaced a little as he ducked down and lifted a heavy square box off the floor, flipping the plastic cover up, jamming his thumb onto the red button. “Lima Two is about to deploy, please return to your seats and cover your ears.” He spoke into his coms, giving the rest of the team a warning. As soon as the device beeped to say it was charged, Jensen launched it over the side of the railing where it fell onto the floor below. As soon as it left his hands, he and Stella ducked down, their fingers jammed in their ears, eyes scrunched shut as the device activated.

Referred to merely by Pooch as the S-Fud- ‘Sensory Fuck-Up Device’, the item had been developed by the boffins in the CIA lab to create complete optical and aural disorientation by using ultra violet and bright white lights and a loud, high pitched sound and sonic wave. Even with his eyes screwed shut, the flash of light still bounced off all the surfaces surrounding Jensen, and the hands which were clamped over his ears might have dimmed the majority of the loud wailing siren, which lasted no more than two seconds, but the combination was still enough to leave him feeling slightly woozy as he stood to his feet, blinking furiously, his eyes feeling like he’d stared straight at the sun, his eardrums ringing as if he’d spent hours in a nightclub with music thumping in his ears. Besides him, Stella staggered to her feet and shook her head, pressing the heel of her palm to the space between her eyes. But they had no time to waste. Jake gently shook her shoulder and she nodded to show him she was okay. Together they made their way down the stairs as quickly as they could.

The S-Fud had done its job, all the men were incapacitated to some extent. As Stella’s eyes glanced around she quickly counted six men in total. Three, one of whom was Khalil, were completely unconscious, face down on the floor. Two more, including Roque, were writhing in pain, hand clutched over their ears, and one was attempting to stagger to his feet. In a flash, Stella had nailed him with a kick to the face, and he fell backwards with a thud, his nose shattering as her heel smashed straight into the bridge.

“Did you see that?” Jensen turned to the other three men who had joined them, all looking around the room. “My girl, she’s a bad ass chick.”

“Can you concentrate on the mission in hand for once and not your dick?” Pooch shook his head as Cougar hit the moving guard with the butt of his rifle, knocking him out.

“Your momma concentrated on my dick last night.” Jensen shot back and Pooch groaned.

“Seriously? Momma jokes, now?”

“Shut up.” Stella nudged Jake harshly with her elbow as she walked past, following Clay as they stepped over the unconscious guards, heading towards Roque as he groaned and lay curled up in the foetal position. Clay knelt down and reached out, loosening his tie and the top button of his dress shirt before patting him on the shoulder, as Stella did the same to their target.

“Okay, lets move.” Clay looked up. “Jensen, Pooch, you take Roque. I’ll get Khalil. Cougs, Arty, give us cover to the vehicle.”

The team all nodded, Jensen and Pooch stepping forward, each seizing Roque under his arms. They managed to get him to his feet, each supporting him, their arms round his back as his arms slumped over their shoulders. His feet staggered on the floor as he made an attempt to talk.

“We got you, buddy.” Jensen said softly. “You’ll be alright, just feel like you’ve got one hell of a hangover for a few hours.”

Meanwhile Clay had managed to hoist Khalil to his feet with Cougar’s help, the man a complete dead weight, which he allowed to slump against his right shoulder. With an almighty heave he ducked and then stood, using his legs to rise up fully, Khalil slung over him in a fireman’s lift, his arms dangling freely down Clay’s back.

Without another word, the team moved as quickly as they could to the dead-bolted doors where Stella reached into her pocket with one hand, whipping her pistol out with the other. She clicked the device, which unlocked the glass doors and they made their way across the atrium, the chaotic noises from outside growing louder as they approached the back door to the bank they’d used to enter. Stella flattened herself against one side of the wall to the right of the door as Cougar took aim with his rifle. He looked at her and nodded, and in a flash she reached out and yanked it open, Cougar darting through, rifle held in front of him.

“Clear.” He spoke and Stella moved to allow the rest of the team to step out into the alleyway, taking up the rear.

She spotted the man hiding in a doorway two down before Cougs even had chance to shout a warning. In a flash she fired pistol twice. The first shot hit the guy in the arm, causing him to drop his gun, the second in the knee and he fell to the floor, screaming in agony. Then came another, and another. As Stella and Cougar continued, Jensen, Pooch and Clay heaved their charges to the side of the van, ducking as shots rained down on them. Pooch wrenched open the door, and Jensen hopped into the back, hoisting Roque in as gently as he could, a sharp contrast to the way Clay simply slung Khalil unceremoniously into the back. As Pooch ran to the front and hopped into the driver side, Stella and Cougar both sprinted towards the van, flinging themselves in as the engine started. With a sharp tug, Clay pulled he door shut as Pooch started the engine.

Seconds later, the van roared back off up the alley, the crackle of gunfire from the square growing quieter and quieter as they put more distance between them and the danger. Pooch drove them out onto the main road, towards the point, some six miles or so away, where they would ditch the van and hop into two separate SUVs and make their way to the agreed Ex-fil point at Saida Port roughly a half an hour or so drive away.

Stella closed her eyes, resting her head against the cool metal of the van, watching as Pooch and Jensen hoisted Khalil into a sitting position, securing his wrists with flexi-restraints behind his back. Cougar was busy offering Roque some water, Stella pleased to see their teammate was finally starting to come round. She smiled as Jensen flopped down next to her, his arm looping round her shoulders as he pulled her to him for a soft kiss.

“I love working with you,” he grinned and she snorted, shaking her head as she chuckled.

“Yeah, we’re a regular nine-to-five couple, aint we?”

****

“Stel?” Jake called through the door of the bathroom of their temporary lodgings before he opened it and to be greeted by Stella led back in the bath, eyes closed. She turned her head to look at him. “I was gonna ask if you wanted head out with the guys for a beer and food but you look pretty comfortable.”

She pulled a face. “I’m feeling anti-social.” Jake laughed at her frank answer and smiled as she gave a small shrug. “Sorry, not sorry, but we spent four weeks in a hell hole motel and I’m extremely grateful Clay’s managed to get us holed up in a nice place and not the Officers’ Quarters on base so I intend to make the most of it.”

“Babes, we were both in the army.” He snorted. “Rocks for pillows and all that.”

“Yeah, well it’s been a while since I did that. What can I say? I’ve grown used to the finer things again.”

“Fair enough, I’ll let Clay know you hate them all and don’t want to socialise.” He teased.

“Jakey, we’re gonna be here for by my guess a week at least, plenty of time to go out sampling the finest bars the UK has to offer.” She shrugged, not bothered in the slightest by his teasing. “If you wanna go meet them, feel free. I’ll grab a take out. There were some leaflets pinned to the board in the kitchen.”

“Or…” Jake smirked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, “I stay here, because frankly, that bed looks really comfy and I kinda wanna test it. See how grossed out we can make Pooch.”

“Jerk.” Stella snorted.

“Well, he’s done nothing but complain since we got here about how he has to share this house with us and can’t go in with the others, so I wanna give him something to really complain about.”

“You’re such a little shit.” She laughed and Jake groaned.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what? Laugh?”

“Yeah, it’s making your boobs wobble under the water, and that’s making me horny.”

“You’re always horny.”

“Hornier than usual.”

“Well, I can solve that problem.” She grinned and Jake smirked.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, turn around and shut the door on your way out.”

“Ouch, Stells.” Jake slapped his hand over his heart. “That’s cold.”

“Hmmm,” She muttered, laying her head back and closing her eyes again. “If you’re getting in here you better hurry, or the water will be cold too.”

Jake grinned and in a flash, reached back to grab a fist full of his t-shirt behind the collar and pulled it over his head. As his hands flew to the button on his jeans Stella nodded to the door.

“You better lock that, I know you said you wanted to gross Pooch out but if he walks in on us he’ll be scared for life.”

“And?”

Stella merely arched her brow, “No locky, no fucky.”

With that Jake spun on his heel and flicked the lock, before he turned round and shoved his pants and boxers down in one full swoop and swung his leg over the side of the tub. Stella moved forward so he could settle behind her, his legs laying either side of hers. It was a tight squeeze, the tub in the two bedroomed terraced house wasn’t built to accommodate two but neither paid it any mind.

Stella took a deep breath, closed her eyes and leaned back, her head laying against Jake’s chest as his hands softly rubbed up and down her forearms, his lips pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

They were silent for a while, the pair of them simply contented to stay there for a moment, relishing the peace after a long and tedious mission and the chance to relax for an evening before the debriefs and analysis started the next day in the War Rooms of the RAF Base in Suffolk, England. Often, the aftermath of a mission was more hard-going than the action itself. They’d hash over the events, listen to the CIA operative justify some of the more morally ambiguous decisions made, no doubt the ramifications and political fall-outs, be informed about how the CIA were going to play it and then they’d have to submit written reports, which would be Classified at the highest levels and stored in the top secret vaults in Virginia.

It was part and parcel of being in a black-ops team. They knew the script, having read and played it many a times before. But it was draining and exhausting, one of the many reasons Stella was glad that the actual missions they ran, whilst they could last months at a time, were on the large few and far between.

“You okay?” Jake broke the silence and pressed his lips once more to the back of her shoulder and Stella nodded, tilting her head round so she could look at him.

“I spoke to Rey before.”

“Yeah, how is she?”

“She said she felt the baby move for the first time.” Stella beamed.

“Oh, that’s awesome.” Jake grinned back, “are they gonna find out what they’re having?”

Stella snorted, “dur. You know what she’s like. She’ll want to decorate and buy it blue or pink clothes, plus if it’s a boy she’s got time to mentally prepare seeing as all she wants is a little girl to treat like a doll.”

Jake laughed. “Is it wrong I kinda hope it is a boy?”

Stella grinned. “Nope, I was thinking the same. She’s asked me to be with her when it’s born.”

“I’m not surprised.” Jake wrinkled his nose. “Dick’s gonna be about as much use as a knife in a gun fight.”

“Knives can be very useful in a gun fight, if you know how to use them.”

“Oooh I love it when you talk dirty, babe.” Jensen smirked and dropped his head to kiss her softly. His right hand moved from its spot on her arm to stroking her hip, tracing a path down the outside of her thigh. His fingers softly traced shapes on her warm, wet skin just to the side of her knee before he moved his touch up her leg again then across to her abdomen. Stella sighed against his mouth, as her head lolled to the right. Jensen’s mouth moved, trailing a line down her neck, nipping at the hinge of her jaw.

He was growing hard against her, Stella could feel it, and the way his fingers were ghosting over her made her skin tingle and her body shiver. "Jake," she whimpered. "Yeah, baby?" His fingers found the tuft of curls and then her nub. "You gonna sing for me, Stells?" He encircled her clit with his fingertip and drew back up. "Let me play that pussy?" “Fuck...” she groaned, leaning further back into him, her body sagging into his. She loved his dirty talk, being so in control for most of the time, she enjoyed letting herself go when it came to this. “Feels good, Jakey.” "Yeah? You like it when I touch you, feel my fingers inside? Stretching you for my dick?" He dipped two fingers inside, his thumb able to press into her sensitive clit. "Jesus, fuck," Stella gasped as he moved into her. The thickness of his fingers felt like she was on fire and had her silently begging his foreplay wasn't long. "So fucking wet already, babe." Jake was enjoying the feel of her on his fingers. It'd been a long while since he'd felt all of her and he hid his desperation well behind dirty words and filthy ministrations. His mouth moved down her neck, teeth gently nipping at her skin as he went, lips curling into a smirk as he listened to her softly groaning. Her hips moving in time with his hand as his fingers curled inside her. Water began to just teeter over the tubs edge but neither paid any mind. Stella's breathy pants bounced off of Jake's cheek as he watched himself finger fuck her. "I love it when you fuck my fingers, baby." "Oh God," Stella squeaked, for she was going to hit that edge and fall right over. The time between, the angst of their mission and Jake's mouth were nearing too much. "Jakey, please," she moaned. "Cum on my fingers, Stells, then I'm gonna fuck you, really...really... good." With each 'really' Jake barely rutted against Stella, just enough to tease her at what he wanted to do to her. He wanted to slide in, slow and deep, her body seated on top his, while he feasted on her nipples and neck. He wanted to be buried into her to the hilt and paint her walls with his seed. Stella came undone as her body quaked against his chest. With a breathy squeak she went rigid and her hand flew from the side of the tub, wrapping around is wrist as she came, her walls clamping around his fingers "Fuck, Stella, turn around baby, sit on my lap." She was as languid as the water around them, her body drowning in ecstasy as Jake helped her turn in the small space. His fully erect and throbbing cock stood at attention, his head just above the water’s surface. He guided Stella just where he wanted her and slowly dipped inside her still trembling walls. The sensation was more than Stella had bargained for and she moaned out loudly as she sank into him. "That's it baby, let them hear you" Jake bucked a bit into her, closing the gap that Stella was slowly shortening, his cock fully inside her and he moaned himself. She felt so good, so tight. Like there was no one else made for him but her. The thought gave him a flutter deep in his belly. She was his, and would be forever, if she'd have him. Stella rolled her hips against his, grinding down the pressure on her sensitive clit while Jake's lips moved over her skin, nearing her pert nipples. His hands wove around her back, fingers pressing into her spine as he bobbed his hips up and down to meet with her rolls. It was a dirty grind, water sloshing out of the tub like waves licking the shore. When Jake found a nipple and rolled it between his lips, his tongue tasting her flesh and his teeth nipping at it, Stella tugged at the little bits of longer hair atop Jake's head as she squeaked out a pleasurable sound. One of Jake's large hands palmed down her back and over the curve of her ass, squeezing her cheek as she rocked all whilst he played with her breasts. The same hand soon found its way between their bodies and pressed hard into her clit before smoothing upward over her tummy and grasping her left breast, kneading it gently. The more he gave, the more she took and before long she was grinding down against him, her breathing ragged as he thrust up, hard, his hands dropping to her hips. “Come on baby,” he groaned as her head fell back, his lips nipping against her collar bone, “fuck, I love you.” “Love you.” She groaned as he thrust up, her hands curling over his shoulders, nails biting his skin. “Shit, Jakey, I’m gonna...” “Cum baby, come on.” His jaw clenched as her body trembled and her eyes fluttered closed, as she let out a broken, whispered groan. As she clenched around him, Jake gave a soft growl of his own, his hips moving slightly faster as he rutted up, pulling her down onto him. The coil in his abdomen that had been tightening and tightening snapped and his entire body surrendered, a surge of warmth spreading from his belly outwards and he stilled, his cock twitching as he came. A few sloppy thrusts later and he stilled with a satisfied him, his hands moving to smooth Stella’s damp hair back off her face as hers cupped his cheeks. She simply looked at him for a moment and he gave her a grin causing her to chuckle as she pressed a soft kiss to his mouth. “Jesus Christ, that was amazing.” Jensen mumbled and Stella grinned, her lips meeting his once more. They stayed still for a moment, soft kisses being shared until Stella shivered a little and Jake helped her move off him so he could get out of the tub and leave her to finish off. He grabbed a towel and his glasses from the basin unit before he dried off, gathered his discarded clothes and headed onto the small landing of the accommodation. Pooch, who was just emerging from the other bedroom shot him a look. “You better clean that damned bathroom before I use it.” He arched his eyebrow and Jensen grinned. “You’re like the best disgusting person I know.” Pooch continued with a snort before he nodded his head to the stairs. “Take it you’re two ain’t coming?” “Already came, Poochy.” Jensen grinned as he walked to their bedroom, laughing as the sounds of Pooch’s groans of disgust hit his ears.

****

Stella woke the next morning to a burning deep in her core and Jake’s face between her legs. Her orgasm roused her much better than any alarm or cup of coffee ever could and as Jake stuffed himself insider her, his mouth nipping softly at her neck, she smiled softly to herself as she realised he’d done this very thing the first morning they’d moved up to college together.

After pulling on her Army Uniform cargo pants, Stella tucked her khaki green tee into the waist and adjusted the belt before she sat down and laced up her heavy boots as Jake fiddled with the collar of his, complaining that it felt tight. When Stella pointed out he was slightly more built than he had been last time he wore it a good few months ago, he grinned and flexed his arms to give her the ‘gun show’ making her snort and shake her head.

They headed out of the house and walked the half a mile to the main gate of the base, flashing their ID and making their way to the Mess for breakfast where they met with the rest of the team, Pooch giving them another filthy look as their antics had continued beyond the bathroom and much later into the night. Once they’d finished eating, they each grabbed a coffee to go and headed down to the War Rooms - a network of conference rooms and IT facilities nestled in a bunker along the runway of the RAF Base - and settled down in the leather seats around the large, polished mahogany table ready for whoever it was from the CIA that would be arriving to give the debrief.

They’d been there for roughly half an hour or so and Jensen was already bored. He was messing around, twirling his pen in-between his fingers, the other tapping against the disposable coffee cup. After a pause, he took his pen and began to draw a face on the white plastic lid.

“What are you doing?” Stella looked at him, having caught his fiddling in the corner of her eye.

“I’m bored, Stelly,” his voice was a childish whine, “where is this guy anyway? We’ve been waiting here for like thirty minutes!”

“Just take the fucking pen off him, Arty.” Roque groaned. Stella reached over for it and snatched it away”

“Hey, that’s mine!”

“Jensen, shut up!” Roque shot back and Jensen turned to him.

“Why? It’s not like anyone is talking anyway.”

“You, you’re talking. As usual. Put a sock in it.” Roque turned to Stell as Clay stood up and walked to the door to see if anyone was coming. “How the fuck do you put up with this?”

“He has his mouth busy most of the time.” Stella quipped as she leaned back in the chair and Jensen gave her a dopey grin.

Both Roque and Pooch let out noises of disgust, Cougar’s chuckle just audible from the other side of the table where he lounged with his feet on the table and his hat pulled down over his eyes.

“Yeah, laugh all you want but next time it’s you sharing the digs with them.” Pooch looked at him. “I’m done.��

“Chill out.” Cougar replied and Pooch blinked.

“Did you just tell me to chill?”

Cougar smirked in response, tipping his hat up slightly to flash Pooch a wink.

“The Pooch is perfectly chilled.”

“The Pooch refers to himself in the third person,” Jensen shook his head, “that’s so not chill.”

“Oh…this just got even better.” Clay’s remark had them all turning towards him, the teasing banter dying off as Roque sat up.

“What?”

Clay simply walked into the room, rolling his eyes. Less than five seconds later, in walked a very familiar face.

“Oh great.” Jake mumbled as Stella blinked, coming face to face with her ex for the first time since he’d stormed out of her apartment all those months ago.

“Good Morning.” Evan greeted them all before he nodded to Stella, a little awkwardly. “Hey.”

“Evan, hi... what are you... what are you doing here?” She asked and Evan took a deep breath.

“It was my intel you guys were running down so I’m here for debrief.”

“That was your intel?” Pooch spoke and Evan nodded.

“Yeah, we’ve been tracking Khalil for a while and reached out to him a while ago to offer him a deal. He declined so we needed to bring him in.” Evan nodded. “His activities were giving us cause for concern, not to mention with the Russians behind him. We needed to make the grab before he got even more power behind his cause.”

Jake sensed Stella tensing slightly besides him and slid his hand over her thigh. Her fingers gently locked over his as she kept her gaze on Evan, who had spotted the subtle movement of Jake’s hand. He didn’t say anything, instead the man’s eyes flicked to Jake’s who simply stared back before Roque chipped in.

“So, we got the guy. Did he give you what you needed?”

“I can’t tell you that.” Evan replied, apologetically. “It’s classified, need to know basis.”

“In that case I don’t wanna know.” Pooch mumbled.

Stella’s mind was whirling. Truth be told, she’d started to think about exactly why they’d been dispatched to capture this particular guy alive, when his type were ten-a-penny all over the place. There was a lot more to it than the fact this guy’s ideologies didn’t fit with those of the Western World. And then, the final little piece dropped into place in her analytical brain and she turned her head to see Clay watching her.

“Did you know?” She asked.

Clay shook his head. “Suspected but…”

“Suspected what?” Jensen looked at Clay then Stella. “Babe?”

She took a deep breath. “There’s a reason why we were on a capture not kill mission. At first I assumed it was to do with not making him a martyr but then throwing him in prison would cause just as much unrest. But that unrest will die down when he’s released in a few months in exchange for his cooperation for details on his Russian backers and arms suppliers.”

The rest of the team looked at her, then to Evan who blinked, his face remaining stoic as Stella shook her head and continued.

“He then lets his supporters know that he and his friends in Russia had a disagreement and he was traded away. He retires to some island somewhere, under the careful watch of the UN and fades away into non-existence.”

There was silence and Evan took a deep breath, “it’s not quite as simple as that, Stel…Stevenson, but yeah, that’s pretty much the basics.”

“God, this is so fucking bent.” Stella shook her head. “It’s no wonder the entire world hates us.”

“You know, considering you technically work for the CIA and the Armed Forces, you kinda signed up for this.” Clay raised his eyebrow as Stella rolled her eyes.

“We tried to negotiate terms with him. He turned them down.” Evan replied, matter-of-factly. “So we sent you in to enforce them. The rest, as I stated a minute or so ago, you really don’t need to know.”

“Yeah, classified, we heard.” Clay replied, leaning back in his chair.

“Did you suspect the Lebanese Special Service would try a double cross?” Roque looked at Evan and the man shot him an apologetic look.

“It was always possible, yeah. But you know how it goes…”

Roque scoffed and Cougar shifted in his seat, Evan’s eyes flicking to him before he took a deep breath and shrugged.

“If it helps, think of the bigger picture. We remove their leader, cut off the Russian support, and suddenly the LFP is nothing more than an overhyped street gang...”

“Yeah, that doesn’t really help.” Jensen wrinkled his nose and Evan shrugged, not quite meeting his eyes.

“Well, that’s your opinion. Not ours.” He cleared his throat, “anyway, it’s done. The mission is over. For now, you guys need to lay low. We’ve cleared it with the RAF for you to stay in the area for a while until all the fuss about Khalil going missing has died down. We’ll be monitoring all the usual lines and channels of communication, making sure no one has your descriptions and doing what we can to keep your faces out of the public eye.” Evan paused. “But, I’m sure I don’t need to remind you what happens if we can’t.”

At that The Losers simply looked at one another. Evan was right, they didn’t need reminding. That was the whole point of the CIA running the number of Black-Ops teams it did. It gave them a way to do the slightly grey area dirty jobs and remain at arm’s length, denying all responsibility if required.

“Any idea on how long that’s gonna be?” Pooch asked.

“Probably be a week, maybe two. But once we’re confident we’re clear, we’ll send word and get you back to the US.” Evan replied.

“So what you’re saying is we got two weeks off?” Cougar spoke and Evan looked at him, giving a shrug.

Pooch grinned and fist bumped Cougar.

“Are you staying here too?” Jensen looked at Evan and he shook his head.

“Don’t worry, I’m flying back to Virginia tonight”

“I’m not really worried…” Jake shrugged. There was a moment where both men simply stared at each other until Clay coughed.

“Right, is there anything else?”

“Mission reports due as usual, next forty eight hours.” Evan turned his head away from Jensen and looked around the team. “I’ve arranged access into the Red Network from the hub on the base. Your liaison officer, Wing Commander Levinson, says he can set you guys up with time on the range or the phys- ops courses too, have you join their drills if you want. Might be an idea to keep yourselves sharp.”

Cougar, Pooch and Jake all groaned at the suggestion of the physical training whilst Roque and Stella looked at one another, nodding.

“Yeah, I can go for that.” Roque agreed.

“And that’s it, other than on behalf of the CIA I wanted to thank you, it was a slick operation. We’re really pleased with how this one turned out.”

The team exchanged looks and soft smiles, before Clay stood up.

“Okay, Losers. Let’s grab some more coffee and then we can regroup. Figure out what we do for the next two weeks.

Movement filled the room as they all stood to leave, and just as Stella had picked up her empty coffee cup, Evan cleared his throat.

“Stella, can I have a word?”

She hesitated and Jake turned to look at her. He opened his mouth to protest but she cut him off. “Jakey, it’s fine. Go, I’ll catch you up.”

He blinked, before he turned to Evan, the glare he gave him positively filthy before he turned and left the room. Evan and Stella stood still watching him go, before Stella turned to Evan, the man giving her a soft smile.

“You look well. Being happy suits you.” His tone carried no anger, and Stella found herself returning his smile before she sighed and shook her head.

“Listen Evan, I...”

“It’s okay Stella,” he spoke, holding his hand up, “I won’t keep you long. I just wanted to apologize. I was an asshole when you broke up with me.” Stella took a deep breath as he continued. “The way I acted and the things I said were horrible. My mother would be ashamed and I just ...” he shrugged. “I wanted to let you know I was sorry, that’s all.”

Slightly surprised at his outwardly contrite tone, Stella simply shook her head. “It’s okay. You were hurt. I hurt you.”

“Yeah you did but that doesn’t excuse the way I reacted. So, like I said, I’m sorry.” He smiled, gesturing with his hand to the door. “And I’m glad that you and Jake are, you know, making it work.”

As he spoke the final like, that tell-tale nerve in his jaw twitched a little and Stella knew that he wasn’t happy, at all. But, given that the rest of his apology had been genuine, she accepted the gesture for what it was.

“Thank you.” She gave a soft smile. “And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry too. I did like you Ev, it just…”

“It wasn’t meant to be.” He shrugged. “Yeah, I get that now. And hey, no hard feelings. If we hadn’t broken up I’d never have met Talia so…”

“Oh, you’re seeing someone?”

“Yeah.” Evan nodded. “It’s early days, we’ve had a few dates and been away for a weekend. She’s nice, I like her.”

“Good, well I hope it works out.” Stella smiled. There was a pause before she took a breath. “I better…” she jerked her hand towards the door and Evan nodded.

“Of course…”

“I’ll, erm, see you around, yeah?”

“Yeah, take care, Stella.”

“You too, Evan.”

With a final smile at one another, Stella left the room and headed back up the corridor. Jake was waiting outside for her, leaning against the wall of the building.

“All okay?” He asked and she nodded.

“Yeah.”

“What did he want?”

“To apologise for the way he acted when we broke up.” Stella shrugged. “That was it, oh, and he’s seeing someone else. Which is nice. I hope it works for him. He’s a good guy.”

Jensen made a non-committal noise in his throat and Stella looked at him. “Don’t start.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You don’t need to.” Stella rolled her eyes. “Stop.”

“Okay, okay, sorry. I just, well, I don’t know what it is but I still don’t trust him, never have. He’s shady.”

“He’s an intel officer for the CIA.” Stella scoffed, taking Jake’s hand. “We’re a Black-Ops team. Far more shady than he is.”

“Suppose.” Jensen sniffed, as the two of them walked down the side of the building. As they went, Jensen suddenly had a sense of unease. Almost as if they were being watched. He turned his head to glance over his shoulder, but found no one. Taking a deep breath, he shook his head, telling himself he was being ridiculous. They were on a secure Military Base, probably the safest place they could be given the circumstances.

“You okay?” Stella asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” he assured her, “so, the rest of The Losers are in the coffee shop. Pooch is already on his phone checking out local bars, fancy hitting a few tonight?”

“Why not?” Stell grinned up at him, leaning up to place a soft kiss to the underside of his jaw. Jake smiled, and pulled her closer as they headed off to join up with the rest of the team, casting a final glance over his shoulder, once more seeing nothing out of the ordinary.

**** Chapter 10

#too loose and you'll lose it #jake jensen #jake jensen x ofc #jake jensen x original female character #the losers #the losers fan fiction #jake jensen fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans characters

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