jackal x reader >> quit your squirming
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MASTERLIST
warnings: swearing, light injuries, tiny bit of nsfw, makeout sesh
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summary: jackal needs more practice perfecting his appearance, and the organization pilot happy to provide assistance.
notes: LOL I STARTED WRITING AGAIN VINE BOOM
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your knees wobbled from the lack of movement as you stood from the foam pad on the pavement floor, wiping your forehead and leaving a thin streak of grime onto your skin. rainbow should invest more into their vehicle care than their damn firing range, you thought. what good is aim if you can’t take it anywhere? bias aside, your error report was due to the director and you felt your joints cry out as you took slow steps back into the facility.
the universe had oddly comedic timing, making you climb up three flights of stairs to get to the drop-off destination. your eyes traced the fine stripe running alongside the wall, catching each door label and looking for the right one.
having been employed there for a large part of your working age, the door placements were almost muscle memory. marius’s mechanics office was fourth door down the south wing. you’d been there a million times, and when you swore you hit the fourth door, you knocked once and looped your arm around the knob, swinging open the door.
“marius, i have the--”
“carajo!”
a whisper-yell violated your ears and you stumbled, spilling the documents across the floor. the lone wolf jackal was sitting at his desk, chip up toward the ceiling and a large weathered hand concealing his neck. quite literally being the last man you hoped to meet in your condition, your temperature flared up and you could feel your underarms dampening.
the spaniard's hair was slicked back with curly flyaways, water dripping down his thick neck. his facial hair seemed to be taking over his face, though not too unkempt. you always considered him a perfect specimen, from his stone-cold perspective on extractions to the way he'd rest against a wall during a business celebration. "perfect," in your mind, did not mean flawless. he's slipped up, missed meetings, sometimes even forgotten his helmet for a mission. he was your hot, imaginary disaster of a boyfriend. in your daydreams, at least.
to those besides yourself, to call specialist jackal a disaster would be a practical understatement. sure, you’d catch his passing glance in the transport helicopter or watch his back muscles flex as he shrugged on his vest, but that doesn’t mean his interior was stable.
ramírez was a man past his prime, yet not weathered to the extent of being “too old.” your trusted co-pilot, jäger, called him your salt and pepper crush (for unclear reasons to you) to the point of you threatening to send the copter straight into the ocean.
"ramírez," your voice cracked. "sorry for the interruption. it seems i entered the wrong door. have a good day."
"i- no- wait-" he huffed, lifting his hand from his neck. he glanced in the mirror which caused his eyes to widen. ramírez reached out to you, quickly yet tenderly taking hold of your forearm. "could you... help. really quick. please."
it seemed like a cruel setup to an evil prank. you were too old for games, but you could name a few other operators that would seem up for such a thing. he continued.
"could you get me some gauze, l/n? a cotton ball. something. anything, por favor."
"are you okay?"
"yes. i cut my neck shaving," he looked up to your panicked expression. "just a little nick, don't worry."
you scurried toward one of the many first aid kits nailed to the wall. you flipped it open, fumbling for some sort of bandage. you paused, gripping it in your palm.
now's your chance, mein frund, you could hear jäger in your head. you nodded to yourself and reentered his room. jackal had not moved from his position but was now standing an inch from his mirror.
"gracias," he thanked, reaching out to grab the gauze from your hand. your quick thinking caused you to pull back.
"let me help," you said, with a light smirk. it had been some time since you last had the chance to flirt, with work and all clouding your mind since you got out of college. "i can see it better. sit."
he sat down, legs wide. you shuffled between his left leg, practically sitting on it. he readjusted in his seat. without even thinking twice, you held his chin and turned it upward.
"i can't reach it, it's like.. right under your jaw-" you mumbled mostly to yourself. you watched his jaw clenched and eyes glue to the ceiling and said nothing about it. it's working. "where is it?"
"here," jackal whispered back, placing his hand over yours and moving your hand to his pulse. you began to wipe at the blood, yet it never seemed to stop. fighting the frustration, you furrowed your brow and continued cleaning his neck, when suddenly, you heard a low groaning noise.
"quit your squirming," you instructed, holding him down with more authority. he continued to breathe through his teeth, and you felt his body heat radiating despite the gap. you began to get worried.
"is this okay?" you asked, referring to the cut. his breathing became heavier and body stiffer.
"yes... hhh—stay like that."
you raised an eyebrow, checking your surroundings. during your frustrations, you seemed to have taken a seat on his lap, with your hand applying gentle pressure on the sides of his neck. you soon realized he was not talking about the blood.
"me encanta esto." it was almost inaudible, said barely above a whisper, but you heard it.
for a moment, time stopped. you pulled your gauze-hand back, and truly seizing this glorious opportunity, placed it on his chest. it was just as amazing as you pictured it felt. was this actually happening right now? is he just really into this, or is he so uncomfortable he can't even speak?
he lowered his chin, meeting your eyes once before glancing down at your lips. you couldn't help but admire his long, dark eyelashes. his lips parted.
"can i kiss you...?" ramírez asked, fixated on your mouth. you nodded, slowly.
as if waiting a million years, his instincts took over as he grabbed the back of your neck and waist, pulling you in and smashing your lips together. you kissed back feverishly, holding the sides of his face and starting to slowly grind against his thigh. he tasted like minty rain and you loved every bit of it. after nearly a minute straight, you pulled away, taking a deep catching breath. you were so caught up against his lips you didn't notice the small trail of blood soaking into his shirt collar.
"ramírez—" you began, but he kissed you once more, just as deeply but as quick as a peck.
"thank you for the help," he replied in a low rumble. "i think i've got it from here."
you jumped up, remembering the report. you started to apologize before he grabbed your hand, squeezing it once.
"i'll be here. don't worry, i'll wait for you."
you nodded, closing his door behind you. it felt like high school prom! you cheered to yourself, throwing punches and kicking the air. who knew it was that easy?!
