Alliance || 1 || ✔️ mature

17 | Eleven

He places two fingers at the base of my spine, "two."

The bullet barely misses the dummy and I grit my teeth. "How do you expect me to focus when you're touching me."

"You had no issues last time." He mutters, voice dark. I narrow my eyes at the dummy, pushing the thrill away as he murmurs lowly, "Force yourself to, if you can focus through this then training is done." He hushes, "Head, heart. Hit one."

I breathe out, forcing myself to focus as I feel my shirt lift as his fingers begin dragging it up.

I close my eyes and breathe in, opening them to breathe out as I release the third bullet.

"Three." He flattens his palm on my waist, slightly squeezing my ribs.

The bullet was closer this time but not close enough, hitting the middle of the dummy's chest.

Archers hand winds itself around my waist, his chest meeting my back as he bends his lips to softly press them against my exposed neck.

My hand squeezes on the trigger, the bullet missing the dummy completely.

"Four." He murmurs, dragging his lips up my neck towards my ear as his hand moves downward.

Trying to ignore the sensations from my core, I fix my stance and focus, lining up the gun and tilting my head – and no, it's not to give Archer more room.

I breathe calmly, ignoring the racing of my heart and the heat travelling over my body and squeeze the trigger.

The bullet releases from the gun, spinning through the air and tearing through the dummies head, right between the eyes.

"Five."

Archer grasps my chin in his hand, tilting my face to his. "Good." He murmurs against my jaw before stepping back, leaving me cold. "Now do it again."

I look back at him in disbelief but he only smirks, and flicks his chin to the dummy, "Go on."

"Ass." I murmur before turning back and lifting the gun once more, lining up the shot and squeezing the trigger, not entirely caring where it goes.

I spin to face Archer as the hiss of the bullet sounds, narrowing my eyes on his before glancing over my shoulder at the dummy and smiling with satisfaction at the hole in its chest.

When I turn back around, Archer is closer, his eyes tracing my face. "You did good, Sarge."

"You didn't help." I shake my head at him.

He only shrugs, "I wasn't meant to." He reaches forward, slipping the gun from my grip slowly, his eyes on my own the whole time.

I tighten my grip, lifting a taunting brow his way.

He steps closer, fingers smoothing over mine on the gun as he lifts our hands together.

I narrow my eyes on his as he steps forward once more, his chest skimming mine as his hand tightens and a shot goes off.

Our hands drop, "I thought you said there were only six bullet in that."