Archive of Our Own ^beta

self indulgent thing maybe

–

Chance’s arms stayed locked around 007n7 like he’d been waiting for this moment forever, like letting go wasn’t even an option. 007n7 lay against his chest, listening to the low, steady rhythm of his heartbeat — proof of something alive and unbreakable in a world where everything else felt fragile.

“You fit here,” Chance murmured, lips brushing the top of his hair again.

007n7 let out a soft laugh, muffled against his shirt. “Do I now?”

“You do,” Chance said simply, a thread of teasing in his voice. His hand drifted slow up and down 007n7’s arm, deliberate enough that it made him shiver. “Like you were supposed to.”

The words caught in 007n7’s chest. He lifted his head, just slightly, and found Chance watching him — calm, steady, but with an intensity that made his stomach flip.

Their lips met again before he could think. This kiss was slower, deeper than the first, Chance’s hand sliding to cup the back of her neck as if to steady her. 007n7 let out a small, involuntary sound, and Chance smiled against his mouth.

“You’re warm,” Chance whispered when they broke apart, his nose brushing along 007n7’s jaw. “Didn’t think you’d be this warm.”

007n7’s laugh was unsteady. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Chance’s lips ghosted over the edge of his cheekbone, featherlight, teasing. “Means you surprise me.”

The kisses came easier now, scattered across his temple, his cheek, down toward the corner of his mouth before finally meeting it again. Each one lingered just enough to make 007n7 melt further into him, caught between breathlessness and safety.

“You’re not running,” Chance whispered against her skin. His hand tightened slightly at 007n7’s waist, pulling him closer. “You don’t even realize it, do you?”

The exploiter shook his head faintly, burying his face against Chance’s throat. “I don’t… want to run.”

“Good,” Chance said, voice low, reassuring but edged with quiet possession. He pressed a kiss into 007n7’s hair, then another, trailing until his lips brushed her ear. “Stay, then.”

The words sent a shiver down his spine.

They shifted again, the bed creaking under their combined weight, until 007n7 was half-draped over Chance, chest to chest, legs tangled. It felt instinctive, like he belonged in that space, like the world couldn’t pry him away.

Chance’s fingers traced lazy lines up and down his back, suggestive in their intimacy though his tone stayed soft. “Feels better, doesn’t it?”

007n7 nodded, muffling a small sound against his collarbone. “Yeah.”

“Want another?” Chance asked, and before 007n7 could even answer, his lips were there again — gentle, slow, coaxing. Not hungry, not rushed, but sure. He kissed him once, twice, lingering, then pulled back just far enough to smirk faintly. “Thought so.”

Her chest fluttered, half with nerves and half with want.

The bed creaked every time the unlikely duo shifted, but neither of them cared. The bunker outside was cold, silent, unwelcoming — but here, tangled together, it felt like another world.

007n7 pressed closer against Chance, cheek to his chest, breathing in the faint scent of sweat and dust clinging to his clothes. She liked it. It was grounding, real, proof that Chance was here, alive, solid beneath her hands.

Chance shifted slightly, his arm snug around 007n7’s waist. “You’re too far,” he murmured, and without waiting, pulled him a little higher, so their faces lined up, foreheads brushing.

007n7’s breath caught. “You… you could’ve asked.”

“I could’ve,” Chance said, smiling faintly. “But I already knew the answer.”

Before he could argue, Chance kissed him again — slow, steady, as though he had all the time in the world. 007n7 melted into it, fingers curling tight in his shirt, a soft sound escaping his throat.

“There it is,” Chance whispered against his lips when they parted. “That little sound you make when you stop overthinking.”

007n7 flushed, pressing his face into Chance’s shoulder. “Shut up.”

Chance chuckled low, the sound rumbling through his chest. “Make me.”

That earned him a glare — brief, half-hearted — before 007n7 tilted his chin up and kissed him again, quicker this time. Chance caught it, deepened it just enough, then broke away with a grin.

“Not bad,” he teased.

“Not bad?” 007n7 muttered, indignant.

“Do it again and I’ll tell you if it’s better.”

007n7 rolled his eyes but obliged, leaning in, lingering longer this time. Chance hummed into it, pleased, his hand tightening at the back of 007n7’s neck as if to hold him there.

The bed groaned as they shifted, Chance stretching out and pulling him fully across his body, half on top of him now. 007n7 tensed instinctively, then slowly relaxed as Chance rubbed gentle circles into his back.

“Better,” Chance murmured, brushing a kiss to his temple. “See? Fits.”

They stayed like that for what felt like forever, the world reduced to breaths and touches. Chance’s lips wandered — a kiss to his jaw, his temple, the corner of his mouth, sometimes playful, sometimes slow enough to make 007n7’s skin prickle.

At one point, Chance murmured against his ear, voice low and teasing, “You taste like you’ve been holding your breath too long.”

007n7 huffed, flustered. “You’re impossible.”

“And you like it.”

“Maybe.”

Chance smirked, satisfied, and kissed him again, slower this time, one hand sliding up to cradle his jaw. He tilted 007n7’s face just slightly, guiding the angle, deepening the kiss until 007n7 let out another soft, helpless sound.

“That one,” Chance whispered, lips still brushing his. “That sound. Don’t hide it.”

007n7 groaned softly, burying his face back in Chance’s throat, too embarrassed to reply. Chance only laughed, warm and quiet, and kissed the top of his head.

The cot dipped under their weight, every creak amplified in the silence of the cabin. 007n7 thought for a moment that maybe they should pull away, that it was too much, too close. But Chance’s arm stayed firm around his waist, not forceful but insistent, and the thought dissolved before it could form into action.

“You keep fidgeting,” Chance murmured, lips brushing against his temple. “You nervous?”

“I’m not—” 007n7 tried, but the lie broke halfway out of his throat.

Chance chuckled, low and warm, the sound vibrating where their chests touched. “Mm. You’re a terrible liar.”

The words might have stung if not for the way Chance leaned down right after, catching his lips in another kiss. It started gentle, coaxing, but deepened quickly, until 007n7 was gasping into his mouth, clutching at his shirt like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

When they broke apart, their breaths mingled in the narrow space. Chance’s thumb traced slowly over 007n7’s lower lip, already kiss-swollen.

“Look at you,” Chance whispered, teasing but reverent. “Falling apart on me already.”

007n7’s face burned. “Shut up,” he mumbled, but he didn’t pull away when Chance’s hand slid higher, resting warm at the back of his neck.

Instead, he let himself be drawn into another kiss.

This one was slower, heavier, every movement deliberate. Chance’s mouth moved against his with a kind of unhurried certainty, like he knew exactly how long to linger, exactly how much pressure to give. 007n7 melted under it, his body betraying him with every sigh, every shiver.

When Chance pulled back, he pressed a line of kisses down his jaw, each one slower, softer, until he reached the curve of his neck. There, he lingered, lips brushing but not quite pressing, just enough to make 007n7 shiver.

“Chance—” he breathed, half warning, half plea.

“Hm?” Chance’s voice was muffled against his skin, innocent, though the hand at his waist tightened just enough to pin him closer.

“You’re—” 007n7 cut off with a sharp inhale when Chance finally pressed a kiss to his throat, slow and deliberate. “—you’re teasing.”

“Maybe.” Chance kissed him there again, firmer this time, then moved back up to his ear, whispering, “You like it.”

007n7 trembled, trying to deny it but unable to form the words. Instead, he pressed forward, capturing Chance’s mouth in another kiss, rougher this time, all tangled urgency. Chance only smiled into it, letting him take what he wanted for a few long, breathless moments before gently taking control again, slowing the pace until 007n7 was sighing helplessly against him.

Their legs tangled on the cot, bodies pressed flush. Every shift of Chance’s hips, every subtle drag of his hand along 007n7’s back, sparked something sharp and breathless. It wasn’t explicit — not yet — but it felt like standing at the edge of a cliff, the ground giving way beneath them.

“You’re holding back,” Chance murmured between kisses, his forehead pressed against 007n7’s. “I can feel it.”

007n7 swallowed hard, his voice barely a whisper. “If I don’t—if I let go—”

Chance hushed him with another kiss, soft but firm. “Then let me catch you.”

The words undid something in him. He clung tighter, kissing back with a desperation that surprised even himself. His hands fisted in Chance’s shirt, pulling him closer, closer, until it felt like there wasn’t air left between them.

Chance let him have that wildness, let him pour everything into the kiss — then eased him back down again, steadying him with hands that never stopped moving in slow, reassuring patterns. One hand cradled the back of his head; the other stroked along his side, suggestive in its closeness but never crossing the line.

Every moment balanced there — almost. Almost too much, almost giving in, almost tipping into something they both felt but neither dared name.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were panting, lips red and swollen. Chance leaned his forehead against 007n7’s, his smile small but certain.

“See? You didn’t break.”

007n7 laughed weakly, breath still uneven. “Not yet.”

Chance brushed another kiss against the corner of his mouth, featherlight but promising. “Not ever. Not as long as I’ve got you.”

And with that, he pulled him closer again, kissing him slow and steady until the tension eased — though the heat beneath it lingered, thrumming, unresolved.

The cot groaned under them, but neither moved. Chance’s body pressed heavy against 007n7’s, solid and warm, and every subtle shift of his hand, every deliberate brush of skin against skin made her pulse spike. He traced slow, teasing patterns along her side, fingers curling lightly at her hip, and she gasped, clutching at his shoulders.

“You’re shaking again,” Chance murmured, lips brushing her temple. “Relax. I’ve got you.”

“I’m fine—” she tried, voice cracking, but he silenced her with a kiss, soft at first, then lingering, coaxing. She pressed into it instinctively, trembling as his thumb circled her hip, drawing small, involuntary shivers from her.

“Mm,” Chance whispered, tilting her chin gently, guiding her lips into another kiss. “That sound you make… do you even realize what it does to me?”

007n7’s stomach fluttered. “I—” he started, then a gasp cut her off as he kissed him again, harder, more insistently. Every inch of his body felt alive, tense, craving. His hands fisted in his shirt, tugging him closer, clinging like letting go would be losing him.

“See?” Chance murmured, lips brushing her jaw, his voice low. “You’re helpless against me.”

“I’m not—” he tried again, weakly. The words dissolved when his teeth grazed his lower lip, just enough to make him gasp.

Chance smiled faintly against her mouth. “Oh, you are. Every time.”

The hand at her hip drifted lower, teasing the curve of her side. Not enough to cross any line, but enough to make her shiver violently and arch into him. Her hands went to his back, clutching, holding him close as her breath grew ragged.

“Chance—” he whispered, voice cracking.

“Shh,” he said, pressing his lips to hers again, slow and deliberate. “I know. You don’t have to say anything.”

The weight of his body pressed down more firmly now, pinning her gently to the cot. Her legs instinctively curled around him, trapping him just a little closer, and he groaned softly against her mouth. The sound made her gasp again, a broken, shivering noise, and he pressed another kiss to her jaw.

“You’re letting me hold you like this,” he murmured, brushing his nose along his cheek, “and you like it.”

“I—” he started, voice breaking, breath hitching, but the words failed her. Instead, he kissed him again, desperate, clinging, letting the shaky, breathless warmth pour out into him.

Their lips moved in tandem, building, breaking, pressing, teasing. Chance’s hands roamed: along 007n7’s waist, over the curve of his back, fingertips teasing just shy of the places that made her tremble the most. Each touch was a slow burn, a promise, an “almost too much” that left her breathless.

He pressed his forehead against hers, eyes dark and heavy. “You trust me?”

“I do,” he whispered, body trembling. “Always.”

That earned him a soft, raw laugh, and he kissed her again, slower now, deliberately lingering at the corner of her mouth, brushing her lips with featherlight pressure. The contact was electric. She shivered, her hands sliding higher along his back, tangling in his hair, clutching him as though she could anchor herself to him.

Every kiss, every sigh, every brush of hands was a teasing promise: almost over the edge, almost giving in, almost everything — but not quite. And that made her ache, craving more in a way that frightened and thrilled her at the same time.

The night stretched on. Cot squeaking, breaths mingling, lips brushing, hands wandering just enough to leave tension coiled tight like a spring. Every pause, every gentle kiss along the jaw, temple, or hairline made 007n7 ache for something unnamed.

“You’re burning me up,” Chance murmured at one point, nuzzling her neck.

“And you’re… impossible,” he gasped, voice barely audible, clutching him like her life depended on it.

“And yet here you are,” he whispered, smiling faintly against her hairline. “And I wouldn’t have you anywhere else.”

Another long, lingering kiss followed, slow and teasing, pressing them closer, until neither could tell where one ended and the other began. Her hands clutched him tightly, tugging him down, begging silently for the closeness, for the heat, for the edge they were both hovering over.

007n7’s hands went to Chance’s chest, gripping at the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer, letting himself melt into the steady heat. “Ch—Chance,” he breathed, voice trembling, breath hitching with every press of lips and slide of fingers.

Chance’s thumb drifted lower along his hip, brushing the curve of his waist with the gentlest pressure. “You like that, don’t you?” he whispered, lips grazing the side of 007n7’s jaw, teasing. “You like being held like this, pressed into me.”

“I—” 007n7 gasped, chest rising and falling rapidly. “I—yes.”

“See?” Chance murmured against his lips, smile soft but dark, eyes half-lidded. “I can feel it. Every shiver, every sigh.”

He let out a soft laugh, low and warm. “You’re helpless. Every time, you’re my love to unravel. But, I love you more than any of that.”

“I—” 007n7 tried again, words lost in a gasp as Chance kissed along his jaw, down to the curve of his neck. The cot shifted beneath them, creaking, groaning, but neither cared. The world beyond the cabin didn’t exist. There was only warmth, weight, and the heat of almost-too-close touches.

Their lips met again, deep, lingering, breaking briefly before Chance captured them again with a featherlight brush, teasing, holding, pressing them together in a rhythm that neither wanted to stop.

007n7 shivered against him, pressed closer, gasping softly. His hands tangled in Chance’s hair, gripping, tugging, holding him like he might disappear otherwise. Every brush of fingers along his ribs, every slow press of lips to skin, built the tension unbearably, deliciously.

Chance’s mouth lingered at his throat, kissing and nipping lightly, slow enough to make him whimper. Each kiss was a brand, leaving a trail of warmth that only seemed to heighten the cold sweat prickling his skin.

“Tell me to stop,” Chance whispered, voice rough, just against his lips, hand resting lightly at his hip, pressing but not crossing the line.

Chance waited, obviously waiting for consent. He’s not the type of guy to do something like this without consent.

“I—don’t,” 007n7 breathed, trembling, clinging. “I don’t want you to stop.” he breathed.

That earned him another soft, heated laugh, and Chance kissed him, longer this time, guiding him against the cot, pressing him down gently, almost possessively. Every brush of lips, every whisper of breath, every press of body was a slow, simmering tension, a thumb slipping under the cotton fabric of 007n7’s pants.

“Sensitive,” Chance murmured against his neck, lips brushing the words across his pulse. “Every time.”

007n7’s breath caught, his whole body leaning up into the contact as if it were the only thing tethering him to earth. “I—don’t—” he tried to form words, but they broke on his tongue, swallowed by the tremor in his chest.

Chance chuckled softly, a dangerous sound, his hand sliding beneath the hem of 007n7’s shirt. The brush of his fingers was unbearably light, teasing, the barest ghost of a touch as they traced across his stomach, then lower, then up again until 007n7 squirmed beneath him.

“Stop—” 007n7 whispered, but his hands betrayed him, tugging Chance closer. “Don’t tease.”

“Stop or don’t?” Chance’s lips quirked, brushing feather-light kisses along his jaw. “Because you’re saying both at once.”

The contradiction made 007n7 flush hot, his breath stuttering out uneven. “Just—don’t stop,” he said finally, voice cracking into something vulnerable, needy.

That answer made Chance still for a moment. His eyes darkened, searching, as if weighing the weight of those words. But then he dipped down again, kissing him harder, deeper, until the bed beneath them squeaked in protest.

007n7 clung to him, nails digging into his shoulder through the thin fabric, pulling him down until their bodies pressed flush. The sudden weight, the heat, made him gasp into the kiss, his whole frame trembling with the shock of how right it felt.

“God—” Chance muttered against his lips, his control fraying. “Do you even know what you do to me?”

“Then—don’t hold back,” 007n7 whispered, half-plea, half-challenge.

Chance groaned, deep and ragged, before kissing him again, rougher this time. His hands roamed with more urgency — gripping his waist, sliding along the dip of his spine, lingering just a fraction too long at the hem of his pants before dragging upward again. Every touch stopped just short of crossing, every motion maddeningly restrained.

“You’re impossible,” Chance hissed against his ear, his breath hot. “I could ruin you right now.”

The words sent a violent shiver down 007n7’s spine. He arched helplessly beneath him, whispering, “Maybe I want that.”

That broke something in Chance. He pressed down harder, their legs tangling, heat sparking sharp and overwhelming between them. His kisses grew desperate, messy, all teeth and tongue and bitten-off gasps.

Every time it felt like they were about to fall completely into it, Chance would pull back a fraction, just enough to leave 007n7 groaning, clawing him closer, dizzy with the unbearable ache of almost.

“You’re not ready,” Chance muttered roughly, as if trying to convince himself as much as 007n7.

“I don’t care,” 007n7 gasped, his voice raw, broken. “I just—please—”

His plea dissolved into another kiss, hungrier than the last, as Chance gave in for another stolen minute. Hands tangled in hair, the creak of the bedframe, the sound of muffled moans — the room filled with it, drowning out everything else.

Chance had quickly slipped off 007n7’s pants in the blink of an eye, leaving her vulnerable in boxers, one of the gambler’s hands resting on her thigh. 

(That’s the only fucking unclothing I’m writing. I can’t write people taking their clothes off slowly and/or intimately im so sorry)

The duo had shed their clothes, the gambler hovering all over the ex-hacker’s body. Chance’s free hand—where it was resting on 007n7’s thigh—had moved up to the exploiter’s surgery scars. 007n7’s scars had been healing well, already starting to fade by the 5 month mark—though, the marks were still sensitive.

Chance pried 007n7’s legs apart, the exploiter (slightly) dazily compliant, revealing the wet genital, 007n7’s face flushing almost impossibly redder. It was adorable—from Chance’s perspective. They actually thought it was cute. 007n7–however, was embarrassed.

Cute.

“Putting one, love.” Chance murmured into 007n7’s ear, a thin, yet slender finger entering 007n7’s wet, almost perfect heat, earning a choked whine from the exploiter as he entered the digit—too fast, but 007n7 really didn’t mind.

007n7 hissed at the stretch—it had been years since he had done anything like this. It almost burned, actually, his body temporarily—almost—unable to adjust

007n7’s eligible groans had surprisingly quickly dissolved to unintelligible, Chance adding another slender finger  in the process, a loud moan coming out of her before she covered her mouth, still having the decency to quiet down for other-–probably sleeping—survivors. The ex-hacker bucked her hips against Chance’s hand, 007n7 whining every time they plunged their fingers back inside.

Chance dove in for a kiss, their chest pressed against 007n7’s, skin against skin. The two–together, moaned into each other's mouths as the gambler had added a third finger. Their tongue dove into his mouth, teeth clashing.

As the two pulled away from their passionate kissing, a sputter–”I-I’m ready now!” 007n7 had impatiently muttered, earning a soft smile from Chance. “You’re really sure?” the gambler breathily responded–recovering from their makeout, his hard-on pressing against fabric—his pants left on.

“Y-Yes…” 007n7 shakily murmured, emphasizing his point by spreading his legs further when Chance’s 3 fingers left his warm, wet heat, the exploiter quivering in response.

Chance didn’t respond—they didn’t have to. He had—in the blink of an eye, pulled both his pants and boxers down, throwing them away. Somewhere. Somewhere in the cabin. He didn’t really, well, care anyways.

Their eyes narrowed through their shades, gently placing his (leaking) erection by 007n7’s cunt, waiting for something—consent to keep going. To continue, and the exploiter understood. “P–Please, Chance?” 007n7 proclaimed. He swore he was drooling at the time.

,And Chance complied—happily. They were… bigger than the average size—and aware—so they had only entered about a quarter of his cock in, already savouring the wet heat, waiting for a sign 007n7 was ready for more.

007n7 has to bite back a moan as Chance enters, adjusting to the girth.

“K–Keep going, please.”

Chance thrusted in the rest of his length, groaning as 007n7’s tight, wet, warmth wrapped around them. 007n7 jolts as he feels himself get filled, trembling as Chance starts thrusting–relatively quickly.

“Ugh– Chance..!” 007n7 shakily whined as the pace quickened, sputtering loudly, not even trying to conceal any noises he made anymore, hands clawing at the gambler’s back, both filling the cabin with the smell of sex and the sound of moans.

Chance held onto one of 007n7's legs, raising them to cling around their waist as he rocked his hips before— SLAP !!

"Ahh–! C–Chance…!!" 007n7 jerks, the gambler hitting her cervix.

“Haa.. Right spot? Y’feel good?” Chance groans, thrusts growing miscalculated—sloppier. 007n7 just nodded quickly in response, bucking his hips back against Chance, both getting closer—to release.

The exploiter clawed at Chance’s back as their cock dragged in and out of him, 007n7’s back arching—along with his hips, going back even further.

“O-Ohh– f..fuuck—!”

“c..Ch–CHANCE—!”

And that was the last thing Chance heard before 007n7 had squirted—all over his abdomen. 

Chance groaned loudly as 007n7 had tightened, liquid dripping out and onto the gambler, thrusts now even more sloppier, chasing his climax, simultaneously starting to overstimulate the ex-hacker.

“Y–You’re doing so good, 7…” Chance huffs, “Give—haah—me a minute, love…”

007n7 had went limp by the second, still with a slight grip onto Chance’s back, gone almost quiet. His voice had gone hoarse over time—still enjoying every second though.

And with a few fast, shallow thrusts, Chance flooded 007n7, with a harsh thrust and a groan.

“N—nnghh–..” Chance breathed, then collapsed onto 007n7, pushing him into the sheets. 

007n7 breathed heavily, eyes half-lidded, head pillowed against Chance’s shoulder. His body still trembled faintly with the echo of all that tension, like aftershocks refusing to fade. Chance’s arm was wrapped firmly around him, his grip protective even after everything, as though letting go might break everything they’d held together.

For a long while, 007n7 just lay there, listening to Chance’s—now relaxing—heartbeat thudding against his ear. Too fast, even now.

He closed his eyes and let himself believe, just for that moment, that nothing outside that room existed.

mwah plap plap plap busts huff huff the end 

jorked my shit while writing this cuh