Naruto: Training is My Ninja Way
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"Jane, you finished with training too?"
Lawson was surprised to see Jane again as he prepared to head back to Los Angeles.
She happened to be wrapping up her retraining cycle at the exact same time, and they ended up on the same return flight.
"Quite a coincidence," Jane said, but her smile was noticeably distant.
Ever since the rumors of Lawson "conquering" Chief Instructor Peggy Gray started circulating, Jane's attitude toward him had shifted. Once the relationship between the two became public knowledge within the base, that distance turned into a cold wall.
A thick, suffocating silence settled between them. For a long while, neither of them knew how to break the ice.
Finally, Jane couldn't hold it in anymore.
"Lawson... now that you're going back to LA, what happens with Instructor Gray?"
Lawson looked at her, genuinely surprised by the question.
"Actually, Peggy and I broke up."
"Broke up? Why?"
"I asked her to come to LA with me, but she loves her life at Quantico. She's built for the Academy. We realized our paths were going in different directions, so we ended it on good terms."
It was the truth. Peggy was a fiercely independent woman with her own ambitions. She wasn't the type to pack up her life to follow a man. They were destined to be a short, intense chapter in each other's lives.
Of course, "ending on good terms" meant they were still friends—and Lawson knew that the next time he found himself back in Virginia for training, Peggy would be more than happy to "welcome" him back.
It was a classic American romance: if the lifestyles don't mesh, you shake hands and move on. You stay friends, and maybe you play an "exhibition match" whenever you're in the same zip code.
Hearing that they had split, Jane's entire demeanor flipped in a heartbeat. The frost melted, and a genuine, bright smile returned to her face.
Lawson didn't miss the change.
"So, Lawson," Jane asked, leaning in slightly, "which unit are they assigning you to in LA?"
"Not sure yet. Honestly? I'm probably going back deep-cover."
Most probationary agents would be terrified of the "Underworld" life, but Lawson thrived in it.
The freedom was unparalleled. No clocking in, no desk work, and no boss breathing down his neck every morning.
Unfortunately, once an agent hit the "Senior" ranks, the Bureau usually pulled them out of the field for management roles. Lawson figured he'd better enjoy the street life while he was still a rookie.
Jane looked down, a shadow of worry crossing her face.
"I envy you. You actually get to choose the life you want."
Lawson raised an eyebrow. "Is your family still pushing back on the field work?"
Jane nodded. "They want me out of the FBI entirely. They want me somewhere 'safe'."
Lawson shook his head with a small smile.
"Jane, don't take this the wrong way, but you shouldn't stress about having options. At least you have a choice."
Jane turned to him, her grey eyes searching his face. "What do you mean?"
"In this country, most people don't have a choice. They live under the illusion of freedom, but their lives are mapped out from birth. They hit the milestones they're told to hit, see only the horizon that's right in front of them, and never get to look further.
But you? Your starting line is most people's finish line. You have the leverage to be whatever you want. Why let that be a burden?"
Jane blinked, her mouth falling open slightly. She looked incredibly cute in her shock.
After a moment, she smoothed out her expression, the tension leaving her shoulders.
"Maybe you're right. I'm overthinking it. But I still don't know which path to take."
"So, what does your gut say?"
"I... I really don't know! I've always dreamed of being a detective, but that last internship... it really shook my confidence. I felt useless."
It was clear that despite the extra training, Jane was still drowning in self-doubt.
Lawson studied her for a beat, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver coin.
"If you can't decide, let's leave it to a higher power."
"You want me to pray?"
"Better. We flip for it. Heads, you follow your dream and stay in the field. Tails, you listen to your family and take the desk job."
Jane stared at the coin, looking conflicted.
"Jane," Lawson added, "every second you spend agonizing over this is a second of your life you're wasting. Pick a lane and drive."
That did it.
"Okay. You're right. Let's do it."
Jane took the coin and flicked it high into the cabin air.
But before it could land or be caught, Lawson's hand blurred through the air, snatching the coin mid-flight.
Jane gasped. "Lawson! What are you doing? I didn't see if it was heads or tails!"
Lawson casually slid the coin back into his pocket.
"Jane, you didn't need to see the coin. In the second that thing was in the air, you already knew which side you were hoping for."
Jane froze. Then, a slow, knowing smile spread across her lips.
"You're right. I already had the answer."
"Then follow it. Just make sure you don't look back."
Lawson pulled out his sleep mask. The flight was an overnight haul, and they were scheduled to touch down in LA at sunrise.
But even with the mask on, Lawson could still feel her staring at him.
Sometimes, the Spider Trump Card was a curse. His spatial awareness was so high he could feel the weight of her gaze on his skin.
Eventually, the steady hum of the engines lulled Jane to sleep. Lawson drifted off shortly after.
No Final Destination accidents today. They landed in LA right on schedule.
After saying goodbye to Jane at the terminal, Lawson headed straight for his apartment in San Gabriel.
He hadn't been home in three months. It felt like a waste of rent, but he had paid for six months upfront, so there was no point in complaining.
Luckily, he had given Blake a spare key before leaving, telling her to use the place whenever she wanted.
He flipped the lights on in the living room and was surprised to find it spotless. No dust on the furniture, floors polished. Blake had clearly been staying here regularly.
He dropped his bags, kicked off his shoes, and headed upstairs, desperate for a nap in a real bed.
As he entered the bedroom, he noticed a large, unmistakable lump under the duvet.
Is Blake actually here right now?
A wicked grin spread across Lawson's face. He quietly stripped off his gear and slid under the covers, moving like a ghost.
He reached out and grabbed a handful of what he assumed was his favorite "treasure chest," but the second his hand closed, his brow furrowed.
He knew Blake's body by heart. This felt different. The elasticity was slightly off, and the size wasn't an exact match.
Who the hell is in my bed?
"Ugh! Blake, stop it! Let me sleep!"
That voice. It wasn't Blake. It was Daisy.
The blonde was still half-asleep, clearly assuming her best friend was messing with her. But as Lawson's "presence" made itself known, she bolted awake.
Lawson tried to pull his hand back, but it was too late.
A piercing scream shattered the quiet of the apartment.
"AAAAAH!"
Instantly, Lawson felt a sharp, stinging sensation at the base of his skull—the Spider sense screaming a warning. The threat was coming from Daisy.
She spun around with terrifying speed, driving a vicious elbow toward Lawson's face.
The strike was a blur of raw power and speed. Lawson had zero doubt that if that elbow connected, he'd be spending his first week back in LA getting facial reconstruction surgery.
Even at Quantico, he hadn't faced a strike this explosive. The instructors were fast, but they weren't trying to kill him. Daisy, fueled by pure "intruder" panic, had thrown a literal death blow.
Fortunately, three months of elite FBI CQB training had turned Lawson's reflexes into tempered steel. He slipped the elbow by a fraction of an inch and transitioned into a BJJ armlock, pinning Daisy's arm behind her back.
The woman's strength was freakish. It didn't feel like he was holding a human; it felt like he was wrestling a mountain gorilla.
"Fuck! Daisy, it's me! It's Lawson!"
The chaos finally woke the other occupant of the bed.
Blake rubbed her eyes and sat up, staring in total confusion at the UFC-style grappling match happening on top of her duvet.
"Lawson? Daisy? What are you guys doing?!"
Daisy finally processed the words and realized the "attacker" was Lawson. The blood drained from her face, replaced by a deep, frantic pink.
"Lawson! Let go! God dammit, where did you learn jiu-jitsu? That hurts!"
"Are you gonna stop trying to break my jaw?"
"Yes! Yes! Let go!"
Not everyone had Lawson's pain tolerance. He had dominated the Academy because he could take a beating that would put a normal man in a coma without making a sound.
Once she promised to behave, Lawson released her.
Daisy scrambled to the other side of the bed, looking at Lawson with a mix of shock and something else he couldn't quite place. Blake just sat there, looking back and forth between them.
The atmosphere in the room turned incredibly awkward.
"Ahem," Lawson cleared his throat, trying to regain some dignity. "Blake... why is Daisy sleeping in my apartment?"
Blake looked down, blushing.
"I wanted to stay here while you were gone to keep the place clean, but I was a little scared to be here alone. So I asked Daisy to stay with me. I feel safer when she's around."
That tracked. Lawson had felt her raw power firsthand—Daisy could probably drop three or four grown men in a street fight without breaking a sweat.
Assuming they didn't have guns, of course.
"Scared? Why? This neighborhood is fine. It's mostly Caltech students."
Daisy answered for her, crossing her arms. The movement caused a very distracting tremor under her thin pajamas.
"Lawson, remember that kid Barry? From the bar?"
"The one who got worked over by the Irish? Yeah, what about him?"
"He's gone. Disappeared last month. Nobody has seen him since."
Lawson's eyes narrowed.
Barry was a classmate of Daisy's who had been caught skimming money from the Irish Mob while selling their product. Daisy had saved his life that night, but apparently, his luck had run out.
"Did the LAPD find anything?"
"Nothing. He's a nobody from out of state. No money, no family. The cops aren't exactly burning the midnight oil to find him."
Blake looked visibly shaken. To a girl who had never seen the dark underbelly of society, a person just "vanishing" was a nightmare scenario.
Daisy, however, looked entirely unsympathetic.
"Honestly? He deserved it. You work for the Mob, you don't steal from the Mob. That's how you get buried. I told Blake we shouldn't have even helped him in the first place."
Daisy's words were harsh, but she wasn't wrong. Barry was a lost cause from the start.
The real concern was whether the Irish would come looking for the people who interfered in their business.
"Blake, stay sharp. From now on, don't walk to class alone. Stick with Daisy. If anything feels off, you call me immediately. Got it?"
Blake nodded obediently, looking like a chastened kitten.
"Alright. The 'assassin' has been identified. Everyone go back to sleep."
Lawson grabbed his shirt, intending to go down and crash on the sofa to give them their privacy.
But Daisy looked irritated. She clearly remembered the "grip" Lawson had used to wake her up.
"Lawson, you—"
Blake reached out and caught Daisy's arm, giving her a very specific, pointed look.
Daisy's scowl faltered. After Blake whispered a few words in her ear, the blonde's entire expression shifted into something mischievous.
"You guys okay?" Lawson asked, sensing a conspiracy.
"Fine! Nothing!" Blake chirped. "By the way, Lawson, what's your schedule like today?"
"I have to head into the 'office' for a debriefing. It's gonna be a long day."
He didn't mention the FBI. If he was going back under, the less they knew, the safer they were.
"Will you be back tonight? I... we prepared a little surprise for you."
"A surprise? I'll do my best to make it."
Lemon Scene: Blake's Welcome Home Blowjob
(Set right after Lawson returns to the apartment in Chapter 130 — the "surprise" begins)
Lawson had barely slid under the covers when soft hands found him in the darkness.
Blake's familiar vanilla scent wrapped around him as she pressed close, her body warm and trembling with three months of pent-up need.
"Lawson…" she whispered, voice sweet and shaky. "I missed you so much."
She kissed him deeply, almost desperately, before pulling back with a shy little smile.
"Let me take care of you tonight… please?"
Before he could answer, Blake disappeared beneath the sheets.
Lawson groaned low in his throat as her warm breath ghosted over his already hardening cock. Her small hands wrapped around the thick base, giving it a gentle, reverent squeeze.
"You're so big…" she murmured, almost in awe, even after all this time.
She started slow and loving — pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along his heavy shaft from base to tip. Her warm tongue flicked out, tracing the thick vein underneath before swirling teasingly around the swollen head, licking up the bead of precum that had already formed.
"Mmm…" The soft sound vibrated against him as she took the head into her mouth.
Blake sucked gently at first, her tongue working the sensitive underside with eager little strokes. She bobbed her head slowly, taking more of him each time, cheeks hollowing as she sucked.
Even though his size stretched her pretty lips wide, she pushed herself deeper, determined to please him. When he bumped the back of her throat she gagged softly, eyes watering, but she didn't pull away. Instead she relaxed her throat and kept going, taking him as deep as she could.
Wet, sloppy sounds filled the dark bedroom — soft gagging, sucking, and Blake's muffled little moans of effort and arousal.
Lawson's hand found her silky brown hair, fingers threading through it gently as he praised her.
"Fuck, Blake… your mouth feels so good, baby. Just like that."
His words made her moan louder around his thick cock. She grew bolder, sucking harder, one hand stroking the thick base she couldn't fit while the other gently massaged his heavy balls.
Drool spilled from the corners of her stretched lips, running down her chin and dripping onto her soft breasts. She looked up at him with teary, lust-filled eyes, silently begging for more.
Lawson's hips started moving on their own — shallow thrusts into her warm, wet mouth.
Blake whimpered in pleasure, relaxing her jaw completely and letting him use her pretty mouth. Her hand slipped between her own thighs, rubbing her soaked pussy as she blew him, clearly getting off on serving him.
"Such a perfect little cocksucker," Lawson growled, gripping her hair tighter. "Taking me so deep… good girl."
Blake moaned loudly around his cock at the praise, sucking even harder.
The tight, wet heat and her eager devotion pushed him to the edge fast.
"I'm gonna cum, baby," he warned, voice rough.
Blake didn't pull off. Instead she took him as deep as possible, throat contracting around him as she swallowed greedily.
With a deep, guttural groan, Lawson held her head down and exploded down her throat — thick, hot ropes of cum flooding her mouth.
Blake whimpered but swallowed every spurt like the good girl she was, milking him with her lips and tongue until he was completely empty.
When she finally pulled off, gasping for air, her face was a beautiful mess — flushed cheeks, watery eyes, swollen red lips shiny with saliva and cum.
A thin string still connected her bottom lip to the tip of his cock.
She looked up at him with a shy, satisfied smile and licked her lips clean.
"Welcome home, Lawson…" she whispered, voice hoarse but full of love.
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