All's Fair in Smut and FanFiction

You glance up from the magazine you're reading on the counter.

"Hi there."

He bolts back out the door. The chime above it was still ringing from when opened it in the first place; it didn't even have time to settle where he was in and out so fast.

You'd say this was unsual but no, this happens more often than people would think. Most customers make it at least a few steps inside, though. You chalk it down to bad luck and go back to your article.

You don't expect him to come again the next day. Your gaze flickers up and you're definitely surprised but you make a conscious choice not to acknowledge him. Your plan seems to work and this time, he manages to make it to the first aisle before he turns round and leaves again.

He comes in every day and, every day, gets a little deeper into the store. You decide that ignoring him is the right call. It seems like even being beheld in a place like this is too much for him to bear so you just sort of… pretend he's not there.

That's not to say you don't let your eyes flicker over to him every now and then, when you're sure he's not looking. You like what you see. He's well-groomed and well-dressed, always with a cute and flattering knitted jumper on. He doesn't really seem to know what he wants - then again, he can barely bring himself to look at any of the wares you have on offer - and you think he's not the kind of customer who'd respond well to a frank conversation about that sort of thing. It's best to let him figure it out on his own.

On the tenth day, he does. He snatches something off of one of the shelves and practically runs to the checkout, where he throws the package down in front of you like it's going to bite him.

A fleshlight. You shouldn't be surprised. Simple, reliable, good to come inside. You ring him up without holding eye contact… but you do add a bottle of lube into the black plastic bag when you pack it up for him.

"On the house," you say, because damn it, you really want this guy to have a nice orgasm and you've become sort of fond of him over these past couple of weeks. He chokes out a noise which could be a thank you and flees out the door.

A beat.

Then he sprints back in, grabs the bag with his new fleshlight that he totally forgot to pick up from the counter, and sprints out again.

"What a strange man," you say aloud to yourself, voice full of poorly-contained lust.

You think that will probably be the last you see of Mr Cute-Stache.

"I don't know, Karin," you sigh down the phone. It's trapped between your ear and your shoulder so you can twiddle the cord with one hand and do stocks with the other. Your oldest friend makes a disappointed noise on the other side of the line.

"Come on, I wouldn't try to set you up with just anybody! He's a really nice guy. Kind of shy, but I think you'd help him come out of his shell."

"I don't know. You know how people are when they find out I run this place. They think I'm gonna stick a dildo in them on the first date, or make them come before we even kiss. It's just… they make a lot of assumptions."

"Lars isn't like that! He's sweet, honestly. Plus he has this sort of… he's a little touch-averse, so he wouldn't expect anything from you at all. Just one dinner. Or even one coffee! For me, please?"

You groan, because you know you'll give in to Karin. She usually knows best. She was the one who gave you the push to start up your shop, and it's been the best decision of your life. How bad can her brother-in-law be? What have you got to lose from one date?

"Alright, fine. If he wants to meet, let's do it."

"Oh yay! This is so exciting, I'll—" the sound of a baby crying in the background interrupts her, and she goes from matchmaker-friend to cooing mom in a heartbeat. "Oh no, Amelia, it's okay! We're just trying to set your Uncle Lars up, it's no big deal…"

You laugh. "I'll let you go. Just tell me where to be and when."

"Okay, sounds good! I'll talk to Lars and hash out the details for you. Awww, did you poop your pants?"

You assume the last part is directed at her infant daughter and not at you, so you hang up the phone with a chuckle. What the hell. You might as well see where this goes.

Where it goes is a local diner one lunchtime. Low-pressure, low-expectation, just two people grabbing a meal and having a talk to see if they hit it off. So why are you so nervous? Why do you keep tugging down the hem of your shirt and smoothing it out, like a little lucky ritual? It's just a coffee, maybe even a coffee and a sandwich, it's not like anything wild is going to happen.

Karin told you Lars would be wearing a brown jacket and a blue sweater. You see the figure sitting at a booth, fiddling with one of the salt shakers.

Then you clock his mustache.

Oh.

Oh shit.

Lars looks up and sees you, and you think he might be liable to actually run away again. His hand goes still, eyes go wide, and he freezes like a deer in the headlights. For a moment the two of you just stare at each other. It's been a couple of weeks since he walked into your shop but there's no mistaking it: sex-store retailer and sex-store customer have been reunited in a warm family diner.

You hold your hands up to show you're not a threat and carefully slink into the other side of the booth. His fingers are tapping now, relentlessly drumming against the table. He might be about to cry.

"Lars?" you ask. He manages the tiniest, stiffest nod. "Hi. Uh. Sorry. If I'd have known, I'd have never…"

You trail off, because… wouldn't you? You thought he was attractive when he was snooping down the aisles and nothing has changed since then. He is hot. Strange, but hot. Perhaps, to you, hot because he is strange.

"… I'm glad to be here with you. Karin said you were really nice and that I'd like you a lot," is what you settle on instead. This is just enough to knock him out of his stupor and he finally looks you in the eye for the first time, ever.

He has nice eyes.

"Oh," is what he manages. A beat. "She said… I'd like you, too."

His fingers slow. He's still nervous, but less likely to bolt.

"And anything… anything done my shop is private. It doesn't leave the walls."

That makes him actually relax. He lets out a breath he must have been holding for some time and his shoulders sag with the relief of it.

"Do you want a coffee?" he asks after a long pause. You smile.

"I'd love that."

You do have a coffee, and then another, then the promised sandwiches. He has pastrami on rye and you go for a grilled cheese which he eyes up. He's too nervous to take your offered bite, so you rip off a tiny corner and place it on the edge of his plate instead. Karin said he had that touch thing, right? You want to be mindful of where his comfort zone lies.

He stares at you after that, a little awestruck, and you think with that one simple gesture you might have won him over completely.

So you go out again, for a walk around the park the next weekend, steaming hot chocolates grasped in gloved hands (he pays for them. He paid at the diner, too, despite your offer to foot the bill). Then you go out again, after that, to the movie theatre in the next town. And then again, and again, and again…

You rarely talk about your work, except to say business is going well, and you certainly don't discuss the fleshlight. But he does touch you. Firstly it's just a pinkie finger linked through yours. Then he works up the nerve to hold your hand. On your third cinema date he puts his arm around you. Some dates after that, he manages to kiss you goodnight. It's quick and clumsy but it's maybe one of the best kisses you've ever had, and you can't get the tickly feeling of his mustache out of your mind.

He seems to be able to get over his issues with touch, slowly but surely. "It usually hurts," he confides one evening as you tangle your legs together, "but not with you. With you it's… good. Nice."

Ever so slowly, as you get used to each other's physical presence, you let him explore you. It's clear he has no experience whatsoever when it comes to intimate relationships - you gather that's why he bought the toy - so you're a willing subject for his experimentations. Nothing penetrative, not yet, but he traces your nipples when you take your shirt off for him, and he lets you palm him through his jeans until he's so hard he has to run outside and chop up an entire tree.

He's so fucking endearing.

A handful of slow, sweet months go by as Lars becomes your boyfriend-proper and the two of you fall into syrupy love with each other. Your affection is so lovey-dovey that people can't help but comment on what a wonderful - if unusual - pair you make. Lars seems more confident with you by his side, too. Karin was right again. You should never have doubted her. Long live Queen Karin and her exceptional skills in matchmaking!

It's late. You're staying over at Lars' and the two of you are snuggled on the sofa watching something on TV. It's not the first time you've spent the night, though it's rare anything racy happens and that is a-ok with you. Cuddling up next to him and falling asleep to his little snores is about as perfect as it can get in your book.

Lars is tracing little patterns on your arm. When he pauses, you can tell he's thinking.

"What's up, honey?"

A moment passes as he tries to find the shape of the words he wants to let fall off his tongue.

"I never used it."

"Used what?" But oh, what a silly question, because you have a pretty damn good idea what he's talking about.

"The… the toy. I never took it out the box. I was… nervous."

You pull back just enough to look him in the eyes, and when you meet his blown-out pupils, you know what it is he's asking of you. What he's trusting you with.

"Do you want me to show you how?"

His hesitation lasts but a second before he nods.

You're directed to his wardrobe where you find the black crumpled bag hidden in its corner as if it was thrown there in a fit of shame. You take the toy out, and the lube, and carefully cross back over to Lars, grabbing a teatowel on the way for afterwards. When you get to your knees, he gasps.

"It's okay. If you want me to stop, if it gets too much, you just tell me, Lars. Tap my shoulder. I won't mind."

He knows you won't. He knows you so well by now and is so happy to put himself in your hands. He gives another little nod and forces himself to relax as you begin to massage his dick.

You've only seen it a couple of times, usually in low light and under the covers, but you know he's big. He doesn't know that, though, and it's pretty cute. So you take a moment to enjoy his fat cock through his pants, smiling gently as you feel it fill out to its full size beneath your careful touch.

"Okay?"

"Okay," he confirms, so you slowly begin to undo his fly. He yelps a little under his breath but lifts his hips so you're more easily able to pull his slacks down his thighs along with his boxer-briefs. His erection stands upright and hits against his stomach, thankfully not leaving a stain on his knitted sweater.

"I'm going to put some lube on you now, Lars."

"A-alright."

You squirt a generous amount of it into your dominant palm and start to stroke him properly. He squeezes his eyes shut tight at the newness of the experience but gives no indication that he wants to back out. So you keep going, smiling at the way your fingers only just meet around his girth, playing with speeds and grip-strength. Everything is good for him, it seems. Feather-light touches have him gasping, firm ones make him groan. It's a lovely symphony you're able to pull from your Lars' lungs. You wonder what other pretty sounds he can make.

When you let go of him he whines and his hips seem to absent-mindedly chase you, but you soothe him with a kiss dropped to his knee as you begin to lube up the toy.

"Just gotta get it ready, Lars. Nice and wet for your fat cock."

He never knows how to take those sorts of compliments, so he just stutters on a needy noise. Another kiss to his leg as you hook the hole of the fleshlight open. It's pretty standard: a peach-coloured pussy with realistic labia. Nothing new for you, but everything new for Lars. You make a conscious effort to slow down as you grip his cock and line him up.

"You good for me to put you inside it?" you ask. The straightforward dirtiness of your words has him spluttering and unable to meet your gaze again. He nods so fast that his face is a blur of beetroot-red.

You slide the fake cunt over his tip and Lars yowls. You pause, waiting until he can adjust, until his breathing slows from rapid to just fast. Then you slowly lower it the rest of the way and for a moment you're worried he's not going to fit because he's that big, but the toy has your back, and it dutifully seats his entire cock.

"There we go," you hum. "Doing so good for me, Lars. So good."

His balled hands threaten to rip a hole in the sofa's upholstery. The two of you sit there, allowing him to feel every tight inch of it.

"How does it feel?"

"G-good," he acknowledges. "W-will…"

"Hm?"

"Will it f-feel… this good… with y-you?"

Oh, that goes straight between your thighs. He asks it so earnestly that you can't help but fall a little bit deeper in love.

"It'll feel different. Warmer, probably. But we don't need to rush into that. I just want you to enjoy this for now, okay, honey?"

He nods one more time and lets you fuck him properly with it.

You don't go too fast, not at first, he's already excited enough as it is. No need to torture the poor man. Instead you lazily drag the toy up and down his shaft and admire the way the lube drips down into his neatly-trimmed pubic hair and lands on his sac in a little puddle. If you thought he was up to it, you'd lean forwards and lick it up. That might actually kill him though.

When he can take more, you speed up, and he whimpers.

"Good?"

"S-so good… it's… you're…"

He loses control over his sentence as it careens off into stammered, nonsensical praise. From the way his hips twitch and his breath hitches, you think he's about to finish.

"You can come, Lars. Come into this pussy for me."

He does, with a long, ragged moan. Warm spend spills out from around the opening in a salaciously delicious way, and even when he's made a puddle on the sofa he doesn't stop. He comes for what must be a solid twenty seconds before he's totally spent.

Oh so carefully you remove the toy from his cock and wipe him clean with the teatowel. When you gather him into your arms he automatically seeks out the warm, safe space of the place where your shoulder meets his neck so he can bury his face there.

"Was that what you thought it would be, Lars?" you whisper as you stroke his hair.

"Better… because it was with you," he replies, and if you weren't head-over-heels before, you certainly are now.

“Are you going to let me in, or…?” Tak stepped out of the way and waved you in. "This place is like a prison cell. You live like this?" 

"You shoulda seen the Raven," he jested. His lame joke earned him a very irate lecture from the offended AI. "Relax, Poe, I was saying it was nice. In a luxurious and… macabre sort of way." 

"I would expect nothing less," you gave Poe a smile and asked him where the whiskey was. "Can you give us a moment, Poe?" 

"Certainly," the AI replied. He shot a deathly glare at Tak before disappearing into the ether. 

Now alone with Tak, you pour yourself two fingers and knock it back with a tight grimace. You never liked hard liquors like that, they burned your sinuses like huffing nail polish. But you were going to need it for the road ahead. 

"Since you're not pouring one for me, I assume this isn't a social call." Tak settles himself in a beat up loveseat– the closest thing in the sparse room one could call comfortable. "Should I be worried?" 

"No, no…" you steeled your nerves with a deep breath and your next words came rushing together on the exhale– "I need you… to attend a sort of… party. With me." 

Tak stared at you. 

"For my protection," you finished wishing you had another drink. 

After a long moment, Tak nodded. "Ok." 

"Ok?" Your jaw dropped. "That's it? Just ok?" 

"Pretty much, yeah," he said as he jutted his jaw out to mask the amusement in his face. "Anything else?" 

You sighed hoarsely and plopped yourself on the edge of his bed– more like an army cot really. "Don't– agree to anything yet. You don't know anything about this club…" 

"What's there to know," he shrugged. "I bring my guns, you do whatever it is you're doing, I kill anyone in your way." 

"Well first of all you are most definitely not bringing more than one gun they will not let us past the front door. And secondly…" you slumped against the wall with hot ears, unable to meet his eyes. "It's a club for people with a certain… dynamic." 

That vague explanation only served to make him smile wider. 

___________________________________________

Ok so… maybe your idea to attend this dom/sub party club was a little self indulgent. Anyone from your crew could have gone, but you volunteered. Anyone from your crew could have been your partner, but you sought outside help for this mission. You tried very hard to convince yourself that it was because you were the best one for the job and you wanted to wear an unworn outfit from your closet. 

Takeshi was waiting for you. You found him awash in the neon lights from the soup shop on the corner. He was lighting up his second cigarette and scanning the pedestrians on the street. Finally, his eyes landed on you– and his fresh cigarette landed in a puddle. 

The clicking of your heels slowed to a stop as you reached him and you stood for a long time in awkward silence. "What? What are you looking at?" 

Tak looked at you like you were crazy– did you not know what you were wearing? Instead of commenting, he sighed long and hard. His hand hovered over the exposed strip of skin between your top and your skirt as he guided you to walk beside him. 

"Let's just get this over with," he sighed as his fingers twitched. 

The barbie pink latex of your outfit squeaked with every swish of your hips. Your heels only served to enhance your swagger, and dialing the whole look up to a ten was the spiked pink collar around your throat. Unbeknownst to you, Tak couldn't keep his eyes off of you and he nearly tripped on some street trash. 

"One more thing," you grabbed Tak's arm and pulled him to stop a building away. "We have to sell this. Don Giacomo will never speak with us if we can't play our parts to a tee. Which is why you'll need this."  

You handed him a leash. His face was unreadable as he ran a thumb over the black leather. It was one of many surprises you had sprung on him these past two nights and he was rolling with the punches now. 

"So what should I call you?" 

"Excuse me?"  You had begun to pull Tak into a walk, now feeling a little tingly as your leash brushed over your chest and repeatedly caught on one of your very visible nipples. "What do you mean?" 

"Well," Tak said with a patronizing slowness, "most submissives have pet names.  So what are we thinking? Brat? Princess?” 

You clenched your jaw so tight that it hurt.

“How about Kitten?” You gave Tak a confused look and in answer, he flicked the faux cat ears on your headband. You swallowed your tongue and nodded your approval. His hovering hand finally settled onto your waist and your entire body warmed against the cool night air. “Kitten it is.” 

The bouncers in synth sleeves allowed you entrance with your forged electronic pass. You and Tak walked in sync (with you a tiny little step behind so you could push him forward but look like you were being pulled). You found a set of couches with a perfect vantage point of the entire lounge. There were dozens of people milling about with fancy drinks and staff bringing platters of illicit substances to sample. Exactly the kind of place to get an invite to an even bigger party. 

Or drown in a pool of your own blood. 

Thankfully, Takeshi was there. His hand at your waist grounded you mentally and physically as you both pushed through into the belly of the beast. 

"This seat taken?," Tak asked one of the patrons in this circle set of couches. When a man (a dom by the way his partners hung around him) shook his head, Tak thanked him with a nod and guided you forward. You started to sit on the furniture when you were stopped by a gentle 'tsk' sound. "On the floor, Kitten." 

You stared at Tak. He was enjoying this (of course he was). And you didn't possess the nuance required to pretend like you weren't because to everyone else, you were supposed to enjoy it too (god, you wish his commanding voice didn't make you so weak in the knees). Slowly, you slid to the floor, keeping your eyes trained on his face as you did and watching a flash of approval cross his features. 

He sat on the couch, lounging like he owned the place. One hand behind his head and the other lazing in his lap with the hand hold of the leash around his wrist. At least you weren't the only sub sitting on the floor. 

While Tak chatted up the doms, you surveyed the room. No doubt every surface in here was sticky by the end of every night, there were people having sex left and right. No matter where you looked, somewhere in your peripheral was someone getting blown or eaten out or penetrated. It made your heart race to think it might be needed to blend in… 

"Come here, Kitten." Tak's hand burned as it glided over your shoulder, between the valley of your breasts, and hooked around your waist. 

He pulled you haphazardly into his lap, maneuvering so you were between his legs and draped atop his chest like a human blanket. You smoothed your hands over his hips and captured his arm against you as if to beg him not to let go. It wasn't much of a stretch to your real desires, though, was it? 

You closed your eyes and pretended not to listen to the doms talk. Tak's questions were probing, and his voice rumbled in his chest in a way that made your nipples tighten. Tak, possibly unconsciously, lightly untangled his arm from your grasp and settled his big hand on your boob. The latex squeaked noisily (covering your own helpless squeak beneath it). 

"I've got a nice rotation of subs," said the sleazy Patrick Bateman type dom. "About seven of them. What about you?" 

Tak squeezed your boob again. "Just this one. I like my little Kitten, fits into my hands and around my cock like she was made for it." 

He said that last part into your ear and you peeked your eyes open. The tenting at the apex of his thighs had not gone unnoticed and was poking you insistantly on your back. Tak was looking right at you as he cupped your other breast and squeezed it, as if testing your reaction. 

As if he was asking how far you wanted to take this.

 In answer, you wiggled your hips under the guise of getting comfortable– and consequently rubbed your behind over his hard-on. There was some pride to be taken when Tak swallowed roughly and his eyes went dark. 

He sat up suddenly, thrusting you forward into a sitting position and pressing you hard into chest, effectively trapping you. "Go to the bar and get me a drink, Kitten." 

The fringe of his hair fell into his eyes and he released you to complete your task. You stood up on shaky legs and trotted over to the bar, dodging serves offering other delights. The instant you enter a dark corner, Tak calls you on your oni with an update. 

"Your guy just walked in," he murmured so as not to be heard by others. "How's about you drop off that drink and follow one of his subs to the restroom." 

"What for?" You ordered a whiskey straight and leaned on the bar to coax your skirt back down over your thighs. 

"If you wanna prove we're legit," came his gravelling (slightly smug) whisper, "you're gonna need to take one for the team. And this one is too big to take without some pregame." 

You nearly fell off the bar. You had felt how big his sleeve's thing was… he was bragging but it was deserved. You took a deep breath and prayed a little fingering would be enough. 

The walk from the bar to Takeshi was a blur. You bend at the waist to hand him his drink and he once again petted your strappy top as a reward. "May I go to the little girls room?" 

It felt a little ridiculous to ask but that's the game you were playing now. "Of course, Kitten. Hurry back." 

"Yes, sir." Takeshi's hazel eyes flashed at the honorific. 

Finally, you looked up and saw Don Giacomo entering the club surrounded by at least fifteen subs in neon green leather. Some covered head to toe, others wearing nothing but a strip of it around their necks. A gaggle of feminine presenting ones split off and made for the restrooms in the back. 

Tak wasn't clairvoyant (at least you don't think he is) but the set up worked like a charm. You found an empty stall and fixed your outfit one more time, listening to the subs chatter amongst themselves. 

"Did you see him??" 

"Who? The envoy?" 

"Oh my god, yes! Isn't he just gorgeous?!" 

This! This is the reason you needed to have Takeshi as your partner. He may be wearing a cop's face, but he was beginning to build his own reputation in it (Bancroft's little Meth parties probably helped some too). And it's definitely the only reason that you have found yourself pressing your heated back to the cold metal stall door and massaging your fingers over your inner thigh right now. 

Gotta take one for the team, right? A little pregame– except instead of downing shots of the cheap stuff at home to go get drunk at a bar, you were working yourself open to get dicked down in front of a bunch of gangsters and thugs by the deadliest man in the room. You should have been taking pictures to commemorate the occasion. 

You hiss through your teeth as you stuff two fingers into your entrance. From the moment Tak looked you up and down outside the club, you have been slowly dampening your satin thong to the point of ruin. There's no way your panties survive the night, none! 

___________________________________________

Takeshi was worried. You could take care of yourself, but you were gone for a while and Giacomo was starting to piss him off. He was just like every other fucking Meth– couldn't buy a clue despite his weath and sick in the head. If you weren't back soon, he was going to put a bullet between his eyes. 

That's when Giacomo's hungry eyes flicked from Tak's face to just behind him. You leaned over Tak’s shoulder and dropped a kiss on his cheek, and for once Tak let his instincts take over as he gripped the back of your head to pull you into a deeper kiss. He let you go and didn’t miss the way your pulse seemed to be pounding uncontrollably. 

“Missed you, Kitten,” he whispered against your lips, “thought you fell in.” 

Unconsciously, you rolled your eyes in front of everyone. “Starting to sound like my dad.” 

Kovacs didn't take offense or pretend to, he just chuckled and guided you around the couch. You were surprised when his hold changed from your hand to your hips and even more surprised when he seated you between his legs again. You settled back against him and it was like you never left. 

"My my," Don Giacomo purred patronizingly, "now that is endearing, isn't it?" 

You could tell by the way he was eyeing you up, he meant your sleeve. You resisted the urge to squirm under his gaze– it was your birth sleeve, with no visual enhancements like Meths could afford for their partners. You were shapely in areas and flat in others, your body bore scars and signs of aging and, well, life. You would not be shamed for that. 

Indeed, how could you feel any shame at all with the way Takeshi Kovacs caressed and held you? There was something worshipful and praising in his touch, not just over your erogenous zones but everywhere. Everywhere that his body made contact with yours filled you with a sense of reverence. You were something important, something special to him. His touch set your world on fire. 

"Don Giacomo, you never finished telling that story about that time you shot Dimi the Twin." One of the doms was eager to engage with the don and thankfully chose his favorite topic– a story about himself. While Giacomo was setting the scene, Tak was about to make one… 

“Hm, Tak?,” you frantically whispered. You were fine with Tak’s warm hands sliding down over your thighs, but then he was pulling the latex of your skirt up and exposing you to your company. “What are you doing?” 

"Whatever I wanna do," he answered back loud enough for your couch neighbors to hear. "Think you can handle a little job for me, Kitten?" 

You clenched your thighs to put pressure where you needed it (and consequently trap one of his hands between them). You couldn't gather the sense to speak so you looked up at him and nodded. Tak's eyes were soft and dark as he finally pulled your skirt over your hips and helped you sit up. 

The first instruction he gave was nonverbal– a small thrust of his hips that forced you to direct your attention to the straining bulge of his pants. Your hands were shaking from excitement as you struggled to remove the button from its hole. Tak offered no help, he only smirked and admired the way your breast jiggled from the force of breaking the button free. 

As you slid your hand inside his underwear to free his cock, Tak's voice came low and sultry. "What I want you to do is take that pretty, little cunt of yours–" 

You gasped as his hand clamped around your throat to maneuver you up to your feet and to slide down onto his thick shaft. 

"-- and keep my cock nice…" he grunted as you clenched around him unexpectedly, "and warm." 

With trembling thighs and shaking breath, you forced yourself to relax at the sudden intrusion. Tak was big. As in: oh fuck I thought I could eat a foot long sandwich but it turns out 12 inches is way too much. You sink down three more inches on him and gasp as his girth stretches you further and further. The rough scrape of the calluses on his hands was the only thing keeping your soul tethered to your body but not for long. 

“OooOOOh fuuuuck!” 

Tak’s big hands gently hold you as his hips raised to insert the rest of his cock. Luckily, the thickest part of his cock was the middle and the rest passed with ease. Once he was fully sheathed, your eyes rolled back into your head and you almost, almost came from the exhilaration of it all. 

"Good girl, Kitten," Tak praised, "goood girl. Now stay just like that. Stay still." 

Stay still? Stay still?! How the hell were you supposed to stay still? Sure, for a minute or two you needed to adjust, but then? Then he was under you and inside of you, stretching you out with an appendage begging to be rode on. And he wanted you to just sit on it?! 

Good girls obey but this was torture. You tried laying on top of him for a while. He continued to make light conversation with your target and ignored the ache and squeeze of your wet canal. When laying against him became too hot to bear, you shifted back into the seated position making both of you groan. Tak put a hand on your belly in warning. 

One swivel of your hips and his cock dragged with sweet sweet relief just a tiny bit. You didn't move further and the doms went back to talking, although you definitely caught them looking at you. A chill went up your spine for a moment– you had forgotten about the hundreds of eyes around you– and yet you felt a sudden greedy pride at your position. 

You were Tak's little Kitten, no one else would take him like you were doing now. They couldn't because he was yours. At least for now. 

You're not sure how many dizzying minutes passed with you breathing in circles and meditating on the small discomfort of being stuffed full, but eventually, you yelped embarrassingly loud as Tak hooked a thick forearm around your waist and sat up. 

The first words he had said to you in an hour were whispered filth. "I'm so proud of you, Kitten, you did so good sitting on my cock. You ready to come on it now?" 

"Yes sir," your voice was scratchy as the desperation of your words clawed their way up your throat. "Please make me come." 

Tak's hold on your waist hardened and he held your legs open by hooking them over his knees. "Show these people how good I can make you feel." 

And just like that, there were suddenly three fingers rubbing circles and putting pressure on your neglected clit. You growled and whimpered at the onslaught of pleasure, hips bucking for more friction and fingers clawing at the arm holding you down. He wasn't going to let you ride him after all, but he was definitely going to make you come. 

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, sir!" You managed to wrap an arm around his broad shoulders to support yourself and inadvertently open him up to access your chest. He stopped touching you for only a second to rip your top down and expose your breasts, then dropped  his hand back to the task and sucked a nipple into his mouth. 

You were a babbling mess, the panties he pushed to the side were cutting into your thigh and you just needed a tiny bit more. Which is of course the exact moment Tak chose to bounce you lightly in his lap and finally give you what you needed to finish. And finish you did– with a massive scream. 

Your vision turned black with dancing stars, gravity shifted and your throat was raw as your entire being convulses. Wave after wave of pleasure assaulted you, brought you to the edge of consciousness before dialing back again. You were barely aware of your labored breathing or the electricity still firing through your body. 

You come back to reality with your face no more than a foot from the floor. Your breaths came in ragged form as you tried to remember where you were. The only thing grounding you is Tak's strong grip. Gently, he pulled out of you and cradled you to his chest as you came back down from your orgasm. 

"Sorry, sorry," he chuckled, "we didn't mean to interrupt. Go on, don, you were at the part where you had your gun drawn." 

The don looked flustered and Tak was a little surprised to intuit it was his fault. That is until he remembered one of the many wild things he had said earlier– that all of his subs had once been doms. Giacomo would have eaten Tak alive if he wasn't so hell bent on finishing his favorite power trip story. As he started talking again, Tak picked you up and pressed his lips to your ear. 

“My turn now, Kitten,” he whispered and delighted in the needy little whimper that bubbled up from your chest. “You ok if I do that?" 

Your body was hyper sensitive and aware of every texture that grazed  your skin from the rough and borderline painful pinch of your latex to the canvas material of his pants to the stubble on his chin and the hairs on his forearm. Still, you managed a weak nod and steeled yourself for what came next. 

Tak kissed your salty brow and gently maneuvered you to lay down on the floor. it was as you had predicted earlier a little sticky, but your head was too full of clouds to lift yourself off the ground or change your mind. The only thing supporting you was Tak's strong grip, holding you up on your knees and pulling his pants down to his midthigh. 

As his cock slid back inside you, you managed only a small pitiful moan and took it. Tak closed his eyes as he slid home, amazed at just how slick and stretched out you were for him. He leaned over the glass coffee table for support and glanced through it to find your fucked out face and taking mental inventory of the way your mouth hung open with a little drool spilling out. He was going to stop but gave one gentle, slow thrust to test the waters and watched your eyes roll back in pleasure and knew he couldn't. 

Don Giacomo rambled on but all either of you could think of was your earthly connection. 

Normally the deliberately slow pace that Rick had chosen would have done nothing for him, but this time he felt his pulse quicken and a familiar sensation creep up his spine. You were so pliable beneath him, taking everything he gave you and following his every order. Tak bit the inside of his cheek so hard he tasted copper and knew he was done for. 

It was mere minutes before Tak's almost loving thrusts stopped. You felt the man push into you as deep as he could to fill you up and your oversensitive pussy milked him greedily for all he had, even managing the own light, rhythmic flutter of a second orgasm that ripped a broken groan from your spent partner. 

The rest of the night passed on as a blur to you. You could recall being cradled to his broad chest, the feeling of his come spilling out between your thighs, and the cool night air on your sweaty skin when he carried you out of the club. 

When you opened your eyes and saw painted walls and soft cotton sheets on an unfamiliar bed, you reached out for him. "Tak? Where… where are we?" 

Tak shushed you and carefully divested you of your clothes and his own before carrying you into a fancy bathroom to a tub filled to the brim with bubbles. "Don't ever tell Poe I brought you here, he would freak." 

So in some high class hotel, Tak helped you unwind and ground yourself from that special sub headspace that he brought you to earlier. He massaged soap to your skin and peppered sweet kisses on your shoulder until intelligence, awareness, and control returned to you. Once you were finally able to hold your head up by yourself, Tak told you that you got the invite you were looking for. 

"You did such a good job for me, sweetheart," he whispered the praise in his gravelly voice and helped you dry off before depositing you back on the bed to turn out all the lights. 

You didn't speak until he was back in your arms and revelled in the way his warmth seeped into your bones and caused you to drift close to sleep in seconds. 

"Call me Kitten now, ok," you murmured from the edge of consciousness. 

You missed the way Tak smiled with abandon, and he dropped a quick kiss to your collarbone to hide his face from view. "Yes, Kitten." 

You often regretted your life choices. Stupid decisions you made as a teenager that ultimately led you into a world of violence and death. It seemed never ending. Because no matter how many times you tried to go straight, use your skills and intelligence for something good, your reputation always preceded you, and you would end up in the same place; with a gun in your hand, covered in blood, and with another body to add to your conscience. Though, ninety percent of the time it wasn't your fault. Just like this time it was not your fault. Trouble just seemed to find you. Or you liked to find trouble, or maybe both. 

“Ah Miss, what a pleasant surprise.” The AI that was this lovely hotel greeted you. “Oh. It appears that you are injured. Do you require medical assistance?” 

You looked down at your blood stained clothes and hands, you felt the slightest throb on your shoulder from where a bullet had grazed you, and the stinging burn on your side from where a switchblade slashed at your skin. But to be completely honest you had grown numb to it. You simply shrugged. 

“Nope. Just need a shower and some tequila.” You waved him off and you walked straight to the elevator, but before you entered, you turned around in your tracks to narrow your eyes at Poe. “Where is Takeshi?”

“Ah, Mr. Kovacs is not here at the moment. He left some hours ago to attend to some private matters he didn't disclose with me.” He answered plainly and you nodded. 

“Shocker. Well if he comes, don't tell him I'm here? Cool? Great.” You were about to go up to the room you used whenever you and Takeshi were fighting, when Poe spoke again. 

“Why is that? Wouldn't he like to know you are injured?” 

“Oh fuck, no. Don't even tell him you saw me like this.”  

Takeshi would go absolutely mad if someone spoke to you the wrong way. You still remember one time you joined him on one of his interrogations, for one reason or another. The man wouldn't keep his eyes off you, though you paid it no mind, you were used to men being nothing short of disgusting, or them calling you every sexual name in the book. But Takeshi? Man, pissed was nothing to describe the level of anger going through him. He didn't stop until the man was nothing but red. You, of course, while amused by his protectiveness of you, got him to stop. 

“Tak, sweetheart, you need him conscious and breathing, don't you think?” 

“He won't be doing much of either anymore.” 

Takeshi was cute when he was angry, more so when he was overprotective of you. But even then, there were some lines you never wanted to cross. And if he ever saw you like this, the thought of someone hurting you like this would drive him mad. No stack would be left unharmed by him if he had any say in the matter. 

So for the sake of the men you did leave alive, it would be best if Tak didn't see you like this. 

“Well, why not?” Poe pushed, clearly he didn't understand the level of insanity Takeshi was capable of reaching. 

“Because, if Tak sees me like this, he is not going to be very happy. He is going to actually cut somebody's head off—Again. Actually no, scratch that, he is going to decapitate and destack a lot of somebody's,” You said as slowly and as clearly as you possibly could, pausing to stare at the hologram as if to make a point. “So do not tell Takeshi I'm here, or that you saw me like this.” 

So much for wanting to stay out of trouble for once. 

~~~~~~

Man what a fucking shitshow. Truly, he didn't understand when the world had gotten so damn complicated. He didn't like to leave messes, he really didn't, but sometimes people would just force his hand, he had to get answers one way or another. 

He should call you. Yes. He should do that. If there was one thing in this fucked up reality of his that he knew would never go wrong, it was seeing you. 

“Mr. Kovacs,” Poe appeared at the bar, getting Takeshi's attention, but he didn't even bother to look. “I was not expecting to see you tonight. Were you able to attend to your matters?” 

“Yeah.” Was all he responded to as he walked towards the elevator. His eyes were glued to the ground as a cigarette hung from his lips, he was tired and annoyed, frustrated and even more tired, but something caught his attention as he thought about his own self misery. 

Blood. 

“Why is there blood here?” He asked Poe with a slight shift from apathy to alarm as he traced the trails of blood droplets back the way he came.

“Oh… Yes.. That… Well you see.” 

“Was someone here?” He asked with sharpness in his naturally baritone voice, looking around for anything out of place or broken, but everything looked normal. 

“No. Well… Yes.. But..” 

Takeshi’s head snapped to look at the AI, eyes narrowed as he stared intensely, waiting for an answer. 

Oh. It better not be. 

~~~~~~

Just get in the shower. You can do that, can't you? 

Apparently you struggled more than you should have with that. It wasn't like you had a bullet in you, but then again, you also had gotten thrown through a table, and punched repeatedly, and stabbed, and shot—kind of. But man was the pain starting to infect every muscle, every joint, every crevice of your body. You weren't exactly sure how you got out of the shower. But you managed to wash the dried blood off you. Though you were still left with two open wounds that were most likely going to have to be cauterized. 

You weren't going to enjoy this very much. 

You were hoping to just throw yourself on the bed and get it over with before Takeshi decided to spontaneously show up. By then your wounds would have been closed, what were two new scars? It's not like Takeshi would notice two more among so many. Or maybe he would notice, but by then it would have been enough time for him to be angry about it but not actually do anything about it. 

Pushing through the now throbbing pain shooting through your shoulder every time you moved your arm, you managed to get yourself into your underwear, but that was as far as that went. 

You had made it halfway from the bathroom to your bed when you heard your name being called, rather loudly, by a voice you were all too familiar with.

Well fuck. 

Takeshi followed the blood. There were drops on the elevator floor, stains on the buttons of the elevator. When the door opened, he followed the drops as his heart began to race. It wasn't a lot of blood, you weren't bleeding out, that was for sure, but his mind wouldn't stop racing. He called your name as he walked further into your room. 

His jaw tightened at the sight of you, slightly hunched over, holding your side as you limped across the room. And the look you gave him was one of deer in headlights. 

“Takeshi…” Your voice was hesitant, soft, wary as you leaned on one of the couches to support yourself. 

He was in front of you in three, maybe four, long, heavy strides. His eyes were frantic, darting all over as he looked over your face. Your eye looked like it was going to bruise, your lip split and your jaw looked angry with a forming bruise. 

“Who..” His words were barely audible, just barely above a rasp as he gripped your non bruised jaw tightly, forcing you to look at him. 

“Tak…” 

“Who the fuck did this to you?” 

You should not be getting wet at the sound of his angry words, but the rasp laced in his tongue had you clenching your thighs together. Takeshi was hot when he was angry. 

“It's fine, Tak. I'm fine, really.” You looked up to find his frantic eyes filled with fiery emotions, his jaw clenching and unclenching with each uneven breath he took. “You should see the other guy.” 

Normally Takeshi found your dry humor amusing. But he couldn't get himself to even let out a chuckle, instead he huffed as he looked over your face. 

“I want a name. Right now.” His words were barely audible, between huffs and puffs as he begrudgingly helped you sit down on the loveseat. You couldn't help but roll your eyes. 

“Can't. Kinda shot him in the stack.” You answered flatly, huffing out a small breath as you threw your head back over the armrest. Takeshi narrowed his eyes at you, noting each bruise and mark on your torso, including the angry looking cut on your side. 

“This wasn't just one person,” it wasn't a question, it was a fact, he knew that. He stared blankly at you as he waited for your response. The sigh you let out was confirmation enough. “What happened? And I want an answer without the attitude.” 

You winced, a hiss of discomfort leaving your mouth as he ran the laser over the large gash on your side. You closed your eyes, counting to five in your head before you answered. 

“I thought I was going in for a job. Something about needing access to some encrypted files,” You recalled what you had so innocently assumed to be just a simple hacking job, in and out with a decent pay, oh how mistaken you were. “The dude that had contacted me suddenly starts getting all up in my face, and asks me some weird questions about you. And when I told him to fuck off, his friends came out.” 

You shot him a glare when he silently moved to your shoulder, but that one was less deep so it didn't hurt as much, it definitely didn't hurt as much as when the bullet actually touched your skin though. 

“Why didn't you call me?” His eyes were sharp on you as he waited for your answer. Was he seriously angry at you?

“Oh right, and what was I supposed to say, ‘oh, hey sweetie, could you please come shoot some people I was doing illegal business with in the stack with me, pretty please?’” You raised your voice to a higher pitch, doing this valley girl accent which only made him inhale deeply. 

“Do you ever answer anything without the bullshit?” He muttered with exasperation as he angrily lit up a cigarette and took a drag out of it. 

“I handled it, Takeshi. Let it go.” You ultimately sighed, reaching over to brush your bruised knuckles over the side of his face. 

His eyes found your face, he saw the forming bruises, and he remembered the blood. Somebody did this to you. Somebody hurt you and he wasn't there to stop it. You could have died. He could feel the anger settle in the pit of his stomach and he began to feel the urge to rip somebody's stack out with his bare hands. His fists clenched at his sides. 

“Like hell.” He stood up so fast it gave you whiplash. You didn't want him to go. You needed him. 

“Don't go,” You stood up so fast your side was definitely screaming at you but you didn't care. He wasn't looking at you, his eyes looked way past your head at the nearest wall. But you grabbed his face, forcing him to meet your eyes. “I need you.. Please? For once just stay with me.” 

Please. 

You didn't beg often. But when you did, there was not a thing in this world he could ever deny you. He found your eyes, big mistake. The second he saw those pleading eyes he was done for. He hated the ways in which you could so easily tug at the strings of his cold heart. For the longest time he thought he didn't have a heart, until he saw you for the first time and that thing started beating. 

His mouth was on yours, he kissed you long and hard. He grabbed your face as he slipped his tongue inside your mouth. He held you, pulling your body against his. Your fist bunched around his shirt, gripping it like vice as he kissed you with fervor, like this was the last thing he ever wanted to do in this world. 

“You wanna take care of me? Hm?” You spoke softly against his lips, your fingers now threading through his long golden strands. 

The grunt that rumbled in his throat was almost animalistic. He wanted you on that bed and he never wanted you to leave it. 

“You're in pain..” He muttered through deep breaths as his long fingers gripped your jaw, forcing your head back as he brushed his nose against yours, holding on to the little stability he had left. “Don't wanna hurt you.” 

“I like it when you hurt me. I want it.” Your words were soft and desperate, quiet as you brushed your lips over his. Pain was the last thing on your mind when you had him this close, when you felt his touch, when you knew he was hanging in by a thread. You needed this more than you needed air in your lungs. 

“You want it?” He repeated, voice as low as it could go, eyes closed as he waited for that confirmation, for your permission, to absolutely ruin you. 

“Yes. Please Takeshi, I need it.” 

There wasn't anything better than Takeshi's cock in your guts after a brush with death.

His large calloused hands found the back of your bare thighs, he so easily hoisted you up around his waist as his lips crashed against yours without another word being said. He was a man of little words afterall. He was a man of action. And he was goddamn sure he would give you exactly what you needed. 

Your back landed on the soft duvets, but his lips never parted from yours. Your frantic hands shoved his coat off his shoulders, then the buttons of his shirt as he fumbled with his pants. It took some time, between desperate grabs and frantic hands, he was just as naked as you, only your underwear left between the two of you. 

His lips found your neck, wet kisses all over the skin as his hands roamed your body. He pulled back enough for his eyes to look you over. He would never get tired of looking at you. 

“You're so…” He didn't have to say it, the look in those hazel eyes of his said every word he wasn't capable of saying out loud. 

You gave him a smile, your eyes big with both longing and endearment. He kissed you one more time before he tugged your panties down. He settled just beside you, thick thighs caging one of yours as his long fingers brushed over your clit, leaving you to gasp against his mouth. His lips curved up slightly as his fingers moved in slow, long circles. He could feel you get wetter and wetter the longer he kept up his torture. He liked to hear you whine and beg for it. 

“Tak..” His name fell from your lips when you no longer could keep your mouth closed, you were gripping at his shoulder as you helplessly grinded against his fingers, desperate for more. 

“Mhm?” His lips were on your ear, his warm breath ghosting over the side of your face with each sharp inhale he took. “Need me to fuck you with my fingers, then with my cock? Is that it?” 

You were nodding so hard, gasping softly when he circled his fingers around your wet hole, teasing you. 

“Mhm!—Please—” You didn't even get the chance to finish your sentence when two long fingers buried themselves deep into your cunt. 

Your lips fell open as your eyes unconsciously rolled back into your head, the delicious feeling of his thick fingers filling you. It wasn't long before Takeshi was all but fucking you with his fingers, and you were nothing but sobs of pleasure. He buried his fingers to the knuckle, brushing your most sensitive spot with each snap of your wrist. 

Fuck did you look pretty like this. But you looked prettier when you were drunk on his cock. 

His free hand gripped your hair, keeping your head in place so he could watch the way your face would contort with pleasure. The lewd sound of your wet cunt being filled by his fingers wasn't lost on him either. He loved it. He was addicted to it. 

“That's it, let it go, sweetheart.” He grunted through his teeth when he realized you were so close, the way your hips were so desperately following the movements of his hand and the grip you had on his wrist was all but telling. He gave you a long satisfied hum when he felt your release coat his hand with a sob of his name. 

His fingers only left you when you were digging your nails into his wrist. His lips curled up in amusement at your desperate attempts but he ultimately complied. His lips were on your forehead as he eased you back into steady breathing.  

“You okay?” He was quiet, but you heard it. You simply nodded in response, still not fully able to find your voice. Good enough. “Good, ‘cause I'm gonna give you exactly what you deserve now.” 

He grabbed your arms and flipped you on your stomach with ease. You were taken aback, instinctively pushing yourself up on your forearms, but a hand on your back forced you back down. 

“Easy. Just relax, sweetheart,” he shushed you softly, you felt him move around for a second until you felt him behind you, right in between your open thighs. “Lemme take care of you, hm?” 

Your response was in the form of a soft hum, you lied flat on your stomach, your head to the side so you could breathe and your ass up enough for him to do as he pleased. And you waited, rather impatiently. You could feel Takeshi's hands on your hips, then up your back, until one of them settled on your shoulder blades. 

You were about to open your mouth when you felt the head of his cock brush over your wet clit. The only sound leaving your throat was that of a choked out moan. 

“You want it?” His lips were on your ear, voice smooth, but with this baritone rasp, a combination that drove you insane. You were nodding into the blankets. 

“Yes, Takeshi. Please.” 

Fuck, he was rolling his eyes at the sound of his name leaving your lips like that. He didn't need to say anything else. He pushed himself into you with a long, hard thrust that had you gasping. 

“Ahh….” You squeezed your eyes shut, hands squeezing the sheets in front of you at the feeling of his cock stretching your walls. You have been with Takeshi for some time now, but you never truly got used to the size of him (with this sleeve at least). “Fuck— you're so..” 

He eased a hand up and down your back, shushing you softly, he was used to it by now. When he felt you start to back into his cock he knew you were fine. He dug his fingers into your shoulder, holding you down on the mattress as he snapped his hips. A gasped cry left your lips. Again, and again with each brush of his cock, until he had you sobbing into the mattress. 

Takeshi, he fucked hard, and he liked it rough, but he had learned to take his time, he learned to take it slow, drag out the feeling for as long as possible, until you were nothing but a sobbing mess. His hand was wrapped around your hair, pushing your head down as he leaned over you. His chest was flush against your back as he rutted his hips against your ass, his lips on the back of your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses everywhere he could. 

Takeshi wasn't very talkative, ever, but goddamn was he noisy. His heavy pants, ragged grunts, the occasional fuck, were all in your ear which each delicious drag of his cock. 

“Goddamn,” he breathed out, nipping at your jaw as he pulled your head up enough to look at your fucked out face, “you feel so fucking good.” 

“Mhmmm. Shit, Tak. Feels so—” You couldn't even finish a cohesive sentence you were so cock drunk, so high on the feeling of his cock brushing that one spot that had you rolling your eyes. You reached behind you, trying to grab him, any of him. 

“Feels good, doesn't it baby?” You could hear the slight smirk on his lips as he wrapped his arm over your neck from shoulder to shoulder, almost as if he was putting you in a headlock. 

“Yes! Fuck yes—” 

“Of course it does.” 

That was enough of taking it slow for one night. 

Takeshi held you in place with his arm over your neck as he drilled into you. The only sounds leaving your mouth were sobs and choked out pants. You couldn't say any words at that point. He was fucking you so hard into that mattress you didn't even realize when the burn in your stomach started to build. All you knew it was that you were digging your nails into his arms so hard the marks would be there for days. It felt good to be caged under his body, with nowhere to go. Not that you wanted to be anywhere else. 

“C'mon, let me take care of you. I'm right here.” He rasped out, hanging on by a thread himself. God, it felt so fucking good. You were barely hanging on. But the second his thumb found your swollen clit you were done for. You couldn't even make a sound, you fell into a silent cry, eyes rolled into the back of your head as your release washed over you. “That's it. I got you.” 

He could feel your release coat his cock, and the feeling of you coming all over him only made him go over the edge himself. He gave you two, maybe three more long, hard drags of his cock before he was spilling himself inside you with a breathy fuck leaving his lips in the process. 

You all but collapsed, your head falling on the pillows as you panted, Takeshi did the same. He dropped his face on your neck, eyes closed as he steadied his breath. He stayed there for some time, he couldn't hold himself up forever, but fuck this felt so nice. You underneath him, wrapped under his arms, nobody could hurt you here. His lips eventually found the side of your head for a chaste kiss before he moved to lay beside you. But the distance between you lasted a whole five seconds because he was pulling you to him. He positioned you to face him, one leg thrown over his torso as both of his arms caged you in. He would keep you here if he could. 

Silence ultimately drowned out your soft breaths, but not once did he stop looking at you. And you could tell something eating at him, weighing on his chest. You brought a hand to his face and you saw him close his eyes with a sigh. 

“I'm sorry I wasn't there.” He finally said, riddled with guilt and anger all over again. You frowned softly and shook your head at him. 

“Stop that, okay? It wasn't your fault.” You answered, smoothing out the soft frown above his eyebrows. He looked at you, watching as you brushed the loose strands of hair out of his eyes but he said nothing. “I'm a big girl, Takeshi. What I do or what messes I get myself into are not your fault. So stop. If I was mad at you I wouldn't let you rearrange my guts, would I?” 

Takeshi didn't laugh often. Or ever really. But sometimes your absurdity brought on a genuine chuckle out of him.

“Aw, so he has a sense of humor. He's not a robot!” You snorted, raising your voice like you were announcing it to the entire city. He rolled his eyes at you. 

“I don't fuck like a robot, do I?” There was a tiny shit eating grin on his face which made you shove his shoulder playfully. 

“Oh my God, shut the fuck up.” You kissed him with a soft laugh. 

~~~~~~~

Goddammit Takeshi Kovacs.

This man just simply couldn't wake up and stay in bed with you for one day. Just one fucking time, you asked. 

You groaned tiredly as you stretched out your sore muscles before sitting up. No tall angry looking envoy anywhere. How tragic. You were about to get out of bed when the door swung open. You were about to reach for your gun on the nightstand when you saw it was just Takeshi, and he looked rather amused. 

“You're awake.” He raised his eyebrows at you in surprise, expecting you to be passed out after the night you had, partly his doing. You looked at him with suspicion as he walked to the bed. “I have something for you.” 

“Is it a decapitated head?” You blinked at him, feigning innocence and he chuckled.

“No. Well I didn't bring it here anyway.” He shrugged as he handed you a red and blue switchblade. It looked kind of cool. You stared at it for a good few seconds before you looked up at him with confusion. 

“What's this?” 

“The owner of this.” He pointed at the brand new scar on your side. Your eyes widened with realization and your mouth fell open. 

“Takeshi—” 

“I don't want to hear you.” He cut you off before you could even yell at him for not letting it go. You frowned at him deeply. He sighed as he sat beside you. “They had it coming. They touched you. It's that simple.” 

You stared at him, and you wanted to force yourself to be angry at him, angry at him for not letting it go, angry at him for treating you like some damsel in distress who needed him to save her. But when you looked into his eyes you didn't see the hero's complex. Not at all. You saw a man who was looking at the only thing that mattered to him in this world. And he'd be damned if he ever let anyone take that away from him again. 

“Awe, baby, so you aren't so heartless after all.” Your smile was mocking on the outside, but deep down it was one of endearment.

“Fuck you.” 

These assholes were creative. You had to hand it to them. "Once he comes for you it will go no further" The one who spoke had been the most creative. He was just slightly taller than you, bright green hair and eyes to match with pointed teeth that looked almost feline.What the hell kind of mods his sleeve had gotten in the real you didn't want to know if he actually looked like that.

You knew the risks, knew what you were facing. Sleeve death was the absolute best option, their goal would be more than likely to either break your mind completely or true death once they were finally through with you. "And who was that again?" you asked and was rewarded with a kick to your jaw. You fell backwards, curling into yourself as far as the chains would allow. You wished they would just get on with it at this point "The envoy"

You laughed painfully, rolling over onto your side to spit out a mouthful of blood "Takeshi? You think he would waste time coming after me?" another one moved forward, this one was a lot bigger, taller than Tak and just as broad. He also had a penance for knives.

He snatched you to your feet by your hair "You're his whore, are you not?" you grunted from pain but didn't respond until a knife appeared in his hand and you sucked in a shuddered breath in anticipation of what was to come "For the last time, I don't matter to him. No one does. I'm nothing more than a means to an end. Fuckin kill me and be done with it" he grinned "Where's the fun in that?" before slamming the knife into your heart.

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

You gasped when air flooded your lungs and you found yourself chained to a bed this time. They'd restarted the simulation and were going to kill you again, however many times it took for either your mind to break or Tak to come after you and you knew which would happen first.

His words from your last argument rang through your mind I don't need you. I don't want you. You're a distraction. That is all. at least he'd get his wish.

You heard the men begin to chatter, their voices drifting from every corner of the room followed by the sounds of their favorite toys being dragged out to play. "JUST KILL ME ALREADY"

A sudden burst of white light had your head spinning, unsure if this was the real or just another game your captors had thought up in an attempt to break you.

You forced your eyes open past the pain trying to keep them closed and was met with the sight of Elliot working to unhook you from the machines keeping you locked into the virtual loop. The sounds of fighting and the heavy copper scent of blood tinged the air. "Are you really here?" You breathed and he smiled up at you as the final restraint gave way "I am. Now we got to go"

He moved to help you sit up and a wave of nausea hit you as soon as your feet hit the floor. Just how long had you been under? "We've been looking for two days" he spoke without you having to ask as he moved to shift a shoulder under your arm and help you to stand, just as the door across the room burst open and green hair was thrown through it, a gaping hole through where his stack once was.

"Looks like your guy is about through" he grunted as the two of you headed towards the door and you managed a weak "He's not my guy" in return before the carnage in front of you stole any other thought once you got a clear view of the clinic. Amongst it all was Tak, blood covering his once white shirt as he stood over what seemed to be the last person remaining "Touching her? That's where you fucked up" despite being well acquainted with violence you flinched when the gun fired and pieces of the sleeve splattered across the floor.

His eyes tracked the room, no doubt scanning to be certain the threat was over before landing on you and Elliot. The question was clear in his expression so you gave a small nod.

After Poe did a quick once over of your vitals and confirmed physically you were unharmed, just in need of nutrients and hydration you headed up to a room he told you was all set up for you. As much as you wanted distance from Tak you wanted to sleep somewhere safe even worse. You could handle yourself for the most part but knowing anyone had to get past an envoy, a murderous hotel and a marine with a lot of pent up anger helped your feelings.

You weren't sure what had woke you up at first, Poe had brought food hours before and Elliot wouldn't venture up. You turned over on your side and almost allowed sleep to pull you back under before you realized you weren't alone in your room. You didn't say anything to acknowledge his presence, you knew you didn't have to. The moment your breathing changed he knew you were awake. "How are you feeling?" his deep voice wrapped around you the moment he spoke. "I'm fine Tak, You didn't have to check on me"

The nod he gave was damn near imperceivable in the darkened room "Poe dug around a little while he was checking you" you knew what he meant so you pushed yourself up the bed into a seated position with your back against the headboard to be able to face him fully "How many times?" he finally tore his gaze from where they had been glued to his hands to your face and you could see the anger hidden in his hazel eyes "Too many" you shrugged one shoulder "At least we finally have something in common" you knew from the way he looked at you that your sense of humor had again fallen flat to the envoy.

"Why did you turn your oni off?" you knew the question was coming. If you would've had it on it would've been easy enough for him to find you faster but you had stupidly let your emotions get the best of you and it had cost you. "Wasn't expecting half a dozen idiots to corner me in an alley. Assholes drugged me with something" he leaned forward in the chair, his elbows resting on his knees "About what I said.." you cut him off by throwing the blankets off your legs and pushing yourself to the edge of the bed "It's fine Tak"

You tried to stand up but somewhere between being drugged, tortured and killed multiple times added in with the dehydration and nutrient depletion made your legs decide they needed another nap despite you wanting to take a shower. Before your body could follow your knees in buckling Tak was on his feet, slipping one arm under your knees and the other under your shoulders. You allowed yourself the moment of your head resting agaisnt his chest as he took the couple steps back to the bed to gently place you on it "I think you need a little more rest"

The moment the warmth of his body left yours you reminded yourself he didn't want you, he came for you simply because that was the type of man he was. He hated anyone getting tied up in his shit despite his teachings that any and all were disposables as long as the mission was accomplished. You rolled your eyes up to look him in the eye "There's that famous envoy intuition" his lips twitched up somewhere between a smile and a smirk "Yeah" he looked back towards the door "I'll let you rest"

You managed a small smile "Thank you, for that and for coming for me" he reached down to gently brush back some of the hair that had fallen into your face "I'll always come for you"

“Ken, can I ask you a weird question?” you ask. He makes eye contact with you in the mirror and smiles that dazzling smile just for you.

“You can ask me anything, no matter how weird.”

“How old are you?”

You’ve long considered this question. He looks fantastic, there’s no doubt about that, he’s annoyingly attractive. But there’s also tiny little tells of his age here and there: an understated wrinkle around his eye or laughter line that never quite leaves.

You see his brow furrow and his fingers twitch as he does some internal math, then after far too long a pause, announces: “sixty-five.”

You almost fall into the goddamn bath.

“Sixty-five?!” you ask. He shrugs.

“Yeah. I mean, I’m your Ken, so I kinda started properly existing when you decided it… and you got me when you were what, seven? So I’m sort of your age minus seven. But in a much more metaphysical sense I was around for longer than that because I’m stereotypical Ken, so… yeah, sixty-five. I was made in 1961.”

Many questions push to the front of your attention like kindergarteners around their first-ever teacher, demanding to be addressed first. You go with:

“How do you know what ‘metaphysical’ means?”

“My word-of-the-day calendar. Yesterday it was ‘smorgasbord’!”

Oh, that’s why he called your body a ‘smorgasbord of delights’ mid-coitus last night. That’s another mystery put to rest.

“You look really good for sixty-five Ken. Like, crazy good.”

“Thank you! It’s the moisturisers. And also the fact I wasn’t a human person for many, many years, just a lump of unfeeling plastic until your love turned me real.”

You’ve said more than once you don’t think his situation is a Velveteen Rabbit thing, but you choose not to remark on it this time.

A beat as he changes bottles.

“Do you know what a ‘problematic age gap’ is, Ken?”

“Mm, I think I can kinda guess from the words it’s made up of.”

That’s true, he’s been much better at filling in the blanks recently. When you speak again, your voice is lower. Suggestive.

“Some people find that sexy.”

He peers at you from his position in the mirror, hand slowing its massaging motions as he considers this.

“Do… do you think it’s sexy? If I looked up your secret sexy video history, would I find that search term?”

You stand up and embrace him from the back, hands alighting on his abs as you press a kiss between his shoulder blades. He shivers in excitement.

“Maybe once upon a time. But now I don’t need secret sexy videos. I have my un-secret, even sexier real-life boyfriend.”

“… and that’s me, right?”

“It is. Come to bed, honey.”

“I need to finish my routine before we sleep—“

“Not for sleeping.”

“Oooooh.” He looks at the bottle in his hand. He looks at where you make eye contact with his reflection.