Rough morning, so here's a quick something because I'm mad enough to spit venom
The phone call to set up the disciplinary meeting had come as a shock.
Apparently, there was allegations of international law violations on your end. The direction for the job you were given seemed no different than other jobs you had worked in the past. Everything was in order. Nothing was out of place, or in any violation of either law or ethics.
Like all good political snakes in the grass, the higher ups chose their pawn well. They knew you could get the job done the most efficiently, and worst case scenario, they knew they could throw you under the bus if the need arose. They didn’t want to lose one of their favorite weapons, but they would make the sacrifice if needed to save themselves from responsibility.
If officially put on the table and the evidence was there, treason and violations of the Geneva Convention could be some of the many charges filed.
This was a FUBAR situation if there ever was one.
Which was what brought him here to you in your apartment.
You didn’t call him. You didn’t need to. He had this near creepy sense about him that let him know when you needed him around. Maybe it was some energy shift he could taste in the air? A bonus in the many gifts of mutation he received?
Whatever it was, it was appreciated in this moment. Not being the ‘damsel in distress’ type, you never called him when shit got real. You preferred to handle your business on your own. That’s what you were used to, that’s what made you as self sufficient as you were.
The massive mutant watched you pace furiously. He noticed your gun hand twitching with your anger and calmly asked you to disarm. Just as a precaution.
The air around your body was molten with your aggression. Your eyes were daggers, shooting at nothing in particular… or maybe shooting at everything. Fuck. You didn’t even know anymore. The strides you took around the kitchen as you paced were heavy and sure. You could spit venom right now you were so consumed with anger.
The entire time the scene unfolded in front of him, Raph just stood casually. Massive arms crossed, head slightly bowed, listening to the chaotic course of events that led you to your rage.
He didn’t speak on it, (because frankly, he never spoke on his plans.. he just went out and did them) but when he heard the words, 'life imprisonment’, 'exile’, and 'execution’ as possible outcomes.. his own rage started to stir.
The bonded male in him was already calculating how he would end their pitiful existences if those higher ups dared separate him from his female. Surely. no living thing would be that brave.
Or that suicidal.
In the powerful motions your body made as you moved, the strength in your voice, the way you held your head so high even when you felt like crying.. in these moments you were your most beautiful to him.
In these moments he saw the fire that matched his own. The soul that called to his out of all the people in this world. That essence of your spirit that was raw and dangerous. Frankly, it brought the mutant to his knees with adoration.
He had found his queen of war, and there was not fuck all anyone could do to keep him from her. He would bring down the human existence himself if he had to.
Stepping forward, he grabbed your tattooed arm and spun you into the kind of kiss that made you see otherworldly beings. It sucked the air from your lungs and made you forget for a second what you were so pissed about in the first place. Cold lips against your fevered mouth were crushing and dominating. He was showing you with his body what he didn’t exactly have the words for.
You are safe. You are strong. You are MINE.
Breaking this kiss, he held your face between his own giant hands and softly said, “Grab your coat hellcat. We’re going for a ride.”
No more could be done here. He wasn’t about to let you pace yourself into exhaustion in the apartment. He was going to do for you what he does for himself when he can’t think clearly any longer.
The chill of nocturnal air met you as the pair of you crept down your fire escape to his waiting bike below. A few hundred pounds of black matte motorcycle waited for you like an obedient dog. Just waiting to flare to life with purpose and rebel against the confines of caged vehicles.The growl of the engine and the vibrations of the pistons firing was the balm you needed. Suddenly, the savagery of your minds worry went quiet. Holding on to hard plated shell the two of you rode off into the darker side streets of the city.
The open roads of rural NY were waiting with open arms for you both.
Wind making your eyes tear up slightly, you smiled for the first time since you got that call. This was how he took care of you. How he showed you his affections and respect. He didn’t try and talk you down, or coddle you. He let you be yourself, with him by your side. Holding onto your male, with the intimacy of the night and the deep love between you..
Well, shit. Maybe it wasn’t the wind making you tear up after all.