#I did a ton of between the lines today having never used that button before (.w.;) and it rules actually. WHEEEE

[fisherrprince]

”black mages can’t move” WRONG double triplecast xenoglossy umbral soul strike

[saffronapplemanga]

GANGSTA. - ギャングスタ - PART 1

CRIME, ACTION, DRAMA

GANGSTA. by Kohske

(8 volumes, hiatus) Mangaka Kohske-sensei is sick and works on updates when she can. There are chapters beyond volume 8 in JP that haven't been collected into a volume yet here.

Available in English here

Anime - Yes. I'll admit it's crunchy, poorly paced, and disappointing because the studio went under literally a few days after it finished airing and it shows, but it’s still fun? They did cut stuff from the manga and there's so much they didn't adapt, so I'd recommend reading it. I'm begging for a remake and a season 2 or something...

Links to my other manga posts here

~Part two of this post is here~

We've got a meaty post today, lads! Sit down, because I'm going to gush about the series that's going in my all-time favs and I've made it my whole personality lately. I'm here to push the GANGSTA. agenda!!! I’m about to be so damn annoying.

Back in 2015 I was going through college hell and wanted something to chill with during my meager downtime. And so the GANGSTA. anime answered the call. Watching TV while shoveling food into my face was my only free time.

A whopping 8 YEARS later now that I'm a freelancer and have a flexible schedule allowing me to get into manga more than ever before, among other factors, it was finally time for me to pick this up. Naturally, I forgot a lot over the years, plus having consumed the anime in my suffering college student frenzy, much of my memory is fuzzy. What I DO remember is that the setting and aesthetics were cool, I loved the characters, and I was mad crushing on Nicolas Brown.

I'm pleased to report that after rewatching the anime and reading the manga, the me of 8 years ago had excellent taste.

Fellas, I present my 34-year-old homicidal, feral, sweet-as-a-button, baby girl ❤️

***Trigger warnings for everything you can think of for this series.***

This post will be divided into: Why You Should Check GANGSTA. Out - What's It About? - Lots And Lots of Character Analysis (And Gushing)

I'm going to give an elevator pitch and spoiler-free summary on why you should check this series out since I feel like it's — dare I say — slept on. Later, I'll get into spoilers and give a heads-up when I do.

Why You Should Check GANGSTA. Out

Diverse cast- disability, race, and age.

Disabled main character- Nicolas is deaf, mainly communicates in sign language, and I personally feel like the way it's handled is awesome (more on that in the character analysis). There are also great portrayals of mental illnesses.

Primarily adult cast- our main trio are 24, 34, and 35. All different races/mixed race. Also, they look like this->

The cleavage crew. My babies are amazing, just look at them!!!

Cool setting.

AWESOME character writing- we're never spoonfed, and there's so much you can glean about the characters from bits and pieces given to us — which is what a large portion of this post will be dedicated to discussing. Tons of nuance.

FOUND FAMILY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Found family? You have me hook, line, and sinker.

You can tell it was written by a female author if you know what I mean... Hear me out, I get into this more later. Please don't roll your eyes at me. I'm going somewhere with this.

Other than GANGSTA. I'm specifically thinking of Dorohedoro right now. It's the only time I've ever laughed at a boob joke and the whole, "Oh no, I walked in on a girl naked" joke and all that. Also, the bikini top/scantly clad outfits in that series don't give me the ick. Don't ask me to explain, I can just taste it. It's the execution.

While there are characters who are in romantic/sexual relationships, there are also a lot of platonic/familial relationships as well. I like romance as much as the next person and I can get really sappy sometimes, but I also want more non-romantic relationships between men and women. Sorta tired of the whole "a man and woman are in the same vicinity so they must bang, they HAVE to pair up". Again, love me some romance, but more of the other stuff too, please! And GANGSTA. delivers wonderfully. Some of the best depictions of the dynamic I crave that I've ever seen.

Look at this banger opening:

The ED is awesome too!

And last, but certainly not least, I'd like to present my "Nicolas Brown propaganda" video of this clip from Episode 1:

Look me in the eyes and try telling me this isn't the best thing ever. My man kicked a cop car in to stand up for Alex so they could save her and take her home!!! Also, Nic is voiced by Tsuda Kenjiro, the VA behind my other fictional crush, JJK's Nanami 'Husband-Material' Kento! Fair warning, I'm not going to shut up about Nic.

I have to admit, it’s difficult for me to wholeheartedly recommend the anime because of what I mentioned at the very top of the post. The voice actors were the best part of the anime, while the animation was… meh, and the pacing is not great. But it's still enjoyable! The manga destroyed me so good, though…

BTW if you're one of those people who are hesitant to get into a series that's on hiatus like my bestie, she HATES reading stuff on hiatus, I implore you to give it a go anyways. I successfully roped bestie into committing hehehe. It managed to absolutely wreck me in 8+ volumes. It's so worth it and I was very happy with how the last currently out chapter (#56) ended.

In case you were wondering... No, I still haven't recovered from Banana Fish.

There's also a completed spin-off series, GANGSTA: CURSED (I enjoyed it. I like action but it was almost too action-heavy for me. My fav parts of the main series are the quiet moments), a light novel GANGSTA: Death of Anosmic Stray Dogs (it was okay, Nic was funny but not enough of him, tbh I’ve read better fanfics), and drama CD's. I actually ordered the drama CD's to listen to later, but I'm traveling right now, and idk when I'll be home to pick up my package, so... And I read the extra manga that came with the Japanese Blu-rays (I enjoyed it).

What's It About?

Our boys Nicolas and Worick are the local "Handymen" doing odd jobs from deliveries and construction, to prostitution and homicide. They go way back, but their relationship is much more complicated than it initially seems.

The grungy city of Ergastulum is essentially an open-air internment camp. For who? Superhumans known as "Twilights", also called "Tags" for the tags they're required to wear. Twilights are the descendants of those who took the drug, Cerebret, developed during wartime to create enhanced soldiers. Their children inherit these qualities —making them an unintended consequence — but with a catch. They are forever dependent on consistent doses of Cerebret to stay alive and keep their bodies from shutting down. At the same time, however, it slowly poisons them, significantly slashing their lifespans. They are kept under surveillance, having been herded into Ergastulum, and xenophobia between them and the "Normal" non-Twilight refugees who settled there is constantly brewing. The Cerebret they need to survive is strictly regulated, expensive, and used to keep the Twilights on a short leash. They are in many ways, second-class citizens.

If you watched until the end of the Nicolas Brown propaganda video like I'm sure you totally did, you would have seen the tags dangling around Nic's neck — meaning that Nic is a Twilight. And in order to operate, he needs to be in a contract under someone. This contract puts the holder in ownership of the Twilight. In Nic's case, his contract holder is longtime friend and fellow Handyman, Worick. I'm sure you can imagine that it puts a certain strain on their relationship... Your BFF and roommate legally owning you even if it's to protect you? Awkward.

To make matters worse, Nic is running out of time, fast. The Cerebret, like I said, shortens the lifespan of Twilights. Various factors come into play regarding lifespan, but on average, they live into their 30's. And Nic is already 34 years old. I am... stressed, to say the least. I don’t know how he's going to pull through guys, I really don't.

Genuinely concerned for Nic's well-being. I don't trust Kohske to pull her punches...

Enter Alex — a prostitute the Handymen take off the street and offer refuge to. We learn about the city, the boys, the factions at play, and more alongside Alex, who has been thrown into this world. Worick is a charming sweetheart who I think sees a lot of himself in Alex, especially since he's been working as a gigolo from a VERY young age. And Nico despite his seemingly harsh exterior, is so damn kind and soft... They all are. I love my found family of traumatized dorks *sobs*

It's not all doom and gloom, though! We have funny, silly, cute-as-hell moments, too. And the domestic scenes? The quite, tender moments? Love. Obsessed.

I like how Nic is holding his old wanted poster with his face in the first panel like he's wearing it as a mask or something. And they're in separate interrogation rooms with glass between them but they can still communicate because Nic can read lips and Worick knows sign language. Clowns, the lot of them.

I admit at first, GANGSTA. seems like a kinda lame title. Like, as a native English speaker, if someone told me to check out a series with this title, it would give me pause lol. It really has that late 2000's to early 2010's aesthetic, edgy themes, plus the whole "Twilights" term — which when combined may make you think, "Yo, this looks lame," especially if you were a teen during that time. "Twilight" just makes me think of that Twilight, but we're ignoring that. For me, my teen years were cringe, and I'm sure many of you feel the same. But you know what? Mangaka Kohske-sensei rocks this vibe! She makes it cool! And now that I'm older, it's like, whatever embrace cringe, have fun and all that, y'know? So, GANGSTA. is great and totally not cringe in any way, hush.

She loves edgy characters — and eyepatches. Gosh, she loves eyepatches. And good for her! You do you, queen! I can dig it.

Bonus Nico because he's so damn cute. Love of my life.

But listen, this manga is deceptively deep, guys. You might think at first it’s simply crime, drugs, sex, and violence... But no! There’s more to it. The crime, drugs, sex, and violence are used to great effect instead of just edgy for the sake of being edgy. The plot is great and all, but the real bread and butter for me with this series are the ✨characters✨. I don't care if you have the sickest plot on the face of the planet. If I'm not obsessed with your characters... what are we doing here then?

Seriously, if I'm not willing to cut a bitch for your characters, try again.

It’s time to segue into ->

Lots And Lots of Character Analysis (And Gushing)

Goodness, where do I even start? So many good characters and moments to over-analyze! There's a boatload of stuff I want to talk about and I'm going to try and make it make sense. I’ll gradually dig deeper and deeper into the squad’s character. I do think I'll have to primarily focus on the main trio, or else my hands are going to fall off from all the typing.

Kohske-sensei doesn't spoonfeed us and doesn't treat us like we're dumb. You know when writers don't trust their audience to get something so they beat us over the head with it? Yeah, no, none of that here. Because a lot is implied or hinted at, this is going to be my interpretation of things. If you have a different take, I'd love to hear it! I'm going to just dive into the analysis with any evidence to support my claims, so I'm assuming you already know the story (or maybe come back later after reading the manga?) because from this point...

***SPOILERS UNTIL CHAPTER 56 FROM HERE ON OUT***

This section will be broken up into: Where It All Began - Nicolas and Nina - "Nice vs. Kind" - Worick and Alex - Nicolas and Alex - Nicolas and Worick - Nicolas - The Trio and The Scene That Had Me Bawling My Eyes Out - Brief Shoutouts to Characters I Also Want to Talk About, But This Post Is Already Long Enough

I'm about to get really sappy, so uh, here goes nothing.

(Note: the manga pages/panels I included for reference are arranged from right to left reading order btw)

Where It All Began

Let's start... at the beginning! The hankie. The first chapter establishes what kind of characterization we can expect from our main cast.

When we first meet our trio, Nic and Worick are leaning on a wall overlooking the city while Alex walks below, bleeding. And then, a handkerchief lands on her head. At first, it's not clear which of the Handymen dropped it down to her, but we're led to believe it was Worick as Nic had his back to the wall.

This is the first panel of Nic that made me go, "Well, hello there, sir 👀💦" Don't judge me. And like, why are half the buttons on his shirt undone? Worick too, LMAO. Not that I'm complaining..........

However, when Alex later thanks Worick for the handkerchief, he tells her it was actually Nic's. Awww, cute...

When the Handymen are hired to take out a gang, it turns out Alex is one of the prostitutes in the gang and therefore is going to be taken out by association. But the boys aren't too keen on this, which results in us getting the glorious Nicolas Brown propaganda scene I included earlier in this post. They claim her as their spoils after taking out the gang in order to keep her safe and get her off the streets. They even throw their weight around with the police by threatening to bash their heads in to do so.

This is all to say that while we see the boys do unsavory things like gleefully murder, we can see already that they're nuanced and SO DAMN KIND. They didn't have to do any of it. They had no reason to. They don't gain anything from it, nor do they expect to (more on this later).

Confirmed: They drink respect-women-juice. King shit.

The next day, we see that Nic seems to be acting pretty coldly with Alex. Right away, I took this as he's having a hard time opening up to her despite everything he did the day before to help her at no benefit to himself including saving her from a passed-out Worick LMAO. It's like... he's scared to get close. He doesn't mind her presence, but he stays at arm's length. We later get hints it's probably because of Veronica and he's afraid of getting hurt or getting someone hurt again. But, while running deliveries, we get this scene:

Which to me is Nic announcing that Alex is now under his protection — a fearsome rank A/0 Twilight. Yeah, it's to keep Worick's clients happy, but I think it's protection for her, too. They haven't known each other for a full 24 hours yet and the boys are already like, "Yeah she's with us. Leave her alone."

Nicolas and Nina

When we meet the absolutely precious Nina, we see a lot more of Nic's overt soft side. It's obvious he loves Nina a lot and is super affectionate with her and sees her as his little sister. And she very much loves him back!

I turn into a blubbering puddle of goop every time these two interact.

He goes out of his way to buy her the drinks she likes, holds her hand whenever they walk together, teases her, plays with her, comforts and holds her, and always keeps her safe no matter what. I could scream about every single panel they have together, but I want to highlight some of my favorite moments:

Worick disposes of the guys trying to kidnap Nina while Nic walks her to the clinic, but she stops at the sound of distant gunfire. Nic eases her anxiety by making her laugh and jokingly saying, "I didn't hear a thing," because of course a deaf man wouldn't lolllll. But he knew that she did indeed hear something because he knew what Worick was up to. But, they don't let Nina know that she was being tailed and in danger so as to not scare her.

Nina sleeps holding Nic's hand while he's passed out at the clinic, and when he wakes up he puts the blanket over her, careful not to wake her.

When Nic stays over at the clinic after he's hurt, the next day he jumps around rooftops with his superhuman agility, holding Nina close, simply to entertain this child he cares for dearly.

Alex asks Nina if she's scared of Nicolas, and while she understands Alex's hesitation, she says that, no she's not scared of him. She knows him for who he is, and not just how he seems. She knows he's actually a very soft man.

After all the patients at the clinic die, Nina is having a rough time processing her grief. She's a little girl with an enormous heart and was grieving over people she didn't even know. Nic leaves all the other grown-ups to go sit with her in his lap, against his chest, comforting her. Later, he takes her hand and walks her to Bastard to hear Alex sing and hang out with Loretta for a pick-me-up.

This scene pulls at my heart... Look at how much they love each other, and how much they feel comfortable and safe with each other. You can FEEL it.

After getting shot by Monroe and having seizures from Theo's experimental drug, Nic still tries to get up and go help the gang. Alex goes to stop him, meanwhile Nina... she looks at him with an aching heart, hurting because he's hurting. Taking his sword, she unsheathes it to reveal that it's broken. This causes Nic to have a moment where he realizes he too is broken and useless right now. So he slumps to the floor, allowing Nina to hold him. She was able to convey what she wanted to tell him — that he was in no condition to go anywhere and that she was worried about him — without saying a word.

To no one's surprise, this part had me in TEARS. So much is said with no words.

Nina puts her hands on Nic's, comforting him while he continues to be out of commission. Nic agrees to let Theo have his body to study as he's accepted his ever-looming demise, and Nina is... distraught. She cries for him. She cries while Theo tucks her into his lab coat, arm around her. I think that given Nicolas' history and trauma, having someone shed tears for him and be so gentle to him is extremely important. He spent the first 12 years of his life being abused on multiple levels and made to feel like he was nothing and then lived a harsh life even after he and Worick ran away. Having someone express this kind of emotion for him, this unfiltered love and care is important. Their casual, comfortable, and trusting tenderness is important.

"Nice vs. Kind"

I do want to emphasize that Nic isn't just kind to Nina. He and Worick are kind to everyone who isn't trying to kill them/has attracted their ire, that is. This is important to note for my next point -> Lately, I've been thinking a lot about something that I'm going to refer to as "nice vs. kind". I mentioned this in my AI Art post in a bit of a different context than we’ll be getting into here. While everything I'm going to talk about can apply to anyone, I'm going to focus on "nice guys".

Earlier, I talked about how the Handymen helped Alex without gaining anything or expecting anything in return. In fact, they're letting her bum off them and crash at their place for absolutely nothing. Combined with how our boys are good to pretty much everyone who isn't trying to kill them, I feel like this makes them truly kind instead of just "nice guys". When "nice guys" complain about how women in particular don't "give them a chance" or whatever it is they complain about, I have to laugh. You're being nice just because you want something from that person (such as getting a woman to sleep with you) or because you want to appear nice to people. In short, you're doing it only because you have an ulterior motive or something to gain — and it shows sooner or later. It's being selectively "nice" to people only when you are trying to gain.

Meanwhile, the boys don't do this at all. They aren't good to people because they're trying to gain something (unless it's work-related, they gotta eat after all). They don't care much about what people think of them or worry about "looking good". The boys follow what they believe in and act on it, even if it may seem morally grey or when it leads to them having not the greatest reputation with most people. But those who know them, know. And THAT is sexy and attractive, both in a romantic and platonic sense. When my friends are truly kind to me or anyone, I'm like, "Wow, that was so hot of you bestie."

When Nic was protecting the clinic in chapter three, Alex was scared of him. He unnerved her. Having just escaped from a man who abused her to hell and back, she was already on edge. Nic looked like an aggressive man, just like the last guy. Her initial impression is similar to the impression most people have of him. But he doesn't care about "looking good" because he's focused on doing right by those he cares about. THAT'S SOME HOT BOY SHIT!!!

Theo is great. We love Theo.

But how do I know without a shred of a doubt that they aren't expecting anything from Alex? I mean, isn't Worick having her help them with the business and do stuff for them? Yes, he is having her do stuff, but it's the intention behind it. When Worick asks Alex to man the phone while he's gone because Nic can't do it, he's giving her this task for her own sake. It's to make her feel included and useful and not feel like a burden, but without asking too much of her. I come from a culture that practices what I call "aggressive hospitality". What I mean is, for example, my friends will refuse to let me help clean up after dinner — and aggressively so — because I'm the guest. But I hate this because I feel useless and I'm just awkwardly watching you do all the work when I have two perfectly good hands. Like, PLEASE give me something to do, anything. And that's what Worick is doing for Alex! His asking her to do these little things is a kindness from him to her.

Besides, if Worick and Nic wanted to use Alex, they could have so easily at any time. A woman crashing with two guys after escaping an abusive pimp and is having drug withdrawals in a city where she has no one is an INSANELY vulnerable position to be in. She's quite literally easy prey. It wouldn't be unusual for someone in that situation to expect to be assaulted, to "pay with her body" in exchange.

But the Handymen, never go anywhere near that line. In fact, they completely reject the possibility, which leads us to one of my favorite scenes.

Worick and Alex

Alex's withdrawal symptoms are making her spiral and she's terrified. She needs to be useful. She needs to be useful the only way she can think of... or else. So she throws herself at Worick — but Worick shuts that shit down immediately. He doesn't entertain the possibility for a second. He refuses to use Alex. He could have taken the opportunity to "get some" but instead, he grounds her and makes her feel safe.

One of the most attractive qualities a person can have is making you feel safe, and I don't just mean physically safe. This isn't limited to what women find attractive in men or what's romantically attractive. This applies to a lot of relationships in general. (More on romance later, or rather lack of romance, because I didn't take this scene to be romantic.)

Worick went out in the rain looking for her. He saw that she picked up a John, going back to her old ways — and he never shames her for it. He just wants to take her home and is upset at himself for taking his eyes off of her. He makes it clear she owes him nothing. He reminds her that she's safe now, he's here now. And my sweet, sweet man just starts complaining to her about his crappy day in a silly, whiny manner to cheer her up and make her laugh.

He's like, "Boohoo, Nic fucked up my fancy shirt." LOLLL But seriously, I would trust this man with my life after all this.

The last line in this scene is some of the first instances of Worick being flirty with Alex, but in a way that I believe is another example of his kindness. Yeah, I said what I said. These scenes are some of the reasons that made me go, "I would bet money that this series was written by a female author." Some people might have the kneejerk reaction that these scenes are Worick being creepy, but I would argue that it's totally not the case.

When Alex visits Worick at the clinic, we get the following scene:

Alex is being hard on herself and feels ashamed. She pours out all the anxieties plaguing her mind, completely opening up to Worick. I don't know about you guys, but admitting how I really feel to someone, especially someone I care about and who I want to like me back in such a raw way is one of the scariest things you can do. What if they reject me? Or hate me? Will they think less of me?

But Worick brushes all this away so easily, again, never judging her. And again, he gives her something to do, to look forward to, with the promise of a song. Again, he gets flirty with her, joking around to lighten her mood.

"He's inappropriately touching her, though! How can you say that's kindness?"

Worick and Alex are both sex workers and have been from a young age. They both have trauma surrounding it. They understand each other in a way others can't. If Worick was invading everyone's bubbles and getting all touchy-feely with them, then I'd say yeah, he's being a creep. But he only does this with Alex. And while Alex might playfully smack him when he does, she's never really uncomfortable. She knows that he's doing this to cheer her up (and Worick uses humor as a coping mechanism — you can't fool me, sir. I have you CLOCKED).

If it actually made her uncomfortable, Worick would stop right away. He's earned her trust and continues to do so. This is what the banter and camaraderie between them looks like. It's like when I affectionately call my friend a "bitch" and say "I hate you" because we have an understanding with one another. If I did that with everyone, I would be an asshole. Meanwhile, my friend's mom yelled at her to be nice to me before I dump her ass. I was like, "Auntie... What are you talking about? We're literally having a brunch date together right now." LMAO, that's just how our relationship is and it works for us. In the pages above, you can see them horsing around, Alex "reprimanding" Worick for being a "perv" but quickly dropping her head on his chest and snuggling up to him. SHE FEELS SAFE WITH HIM!

AND HE FEELS SAFE WITH HER!!!!!!!

I didn't take this scene as romantic either btw.

I rest my case. Good day to you.

Actual picture of me reading about these dummies.

------------------------------

~Continued in my part two post~

[thmgau]

CHAPTER 15 - A BEGINNER'S GUIDE TO CELESTIALS [wattpad link]

---

“Watch closely, my dear friends. This is how you make the best popcorn known to humankind.”

Kalani opened up the microwave & put the popcorn package in there. She set the timer to around 2 minutes & pressed the start button.

“2 minutes seems kinda excessive, don’tcha think?” “Patience is key, Leslie. Just wait.”

The group was currently at Kalani’s apartment for a sleepover. They did sleepovers fairly often, & shifted around whose place they’d have the sleepover at every month or so. This time, it was at Kalani’s.

“What do we do in the meantime?” “Uh.. I dunno, actually.” “Hmm..”

An idea popped into Nora’s head.

“Oh! Kalani! That.. magic book thing is here, right?” “Yea?” “How about we read through that?” “Oh, that sounds fun.” “Yea. Plus, if we’re so-called ‘heroes’ anyway, we should maybe read the book telling us how to be heroes.” “Alright, lemme go get it.”

Kalani left the kitchen to go get the book. The microwave had about a minute & a half left on it.

“How much do you wanna bet he isn’t gonna come back before the popcorn’s done?” “At least $5.” “I’ll get a bowl.”

Cherry reached up into the cabinet & grabbed a big bowl for the popcorn.

“Have you all noticed an increase in posters everywhere with that puppet guy on them?” “Oh, yea. There’s been a TON of them everywhere. Wonder why that is.” “Les, weren’t you gonna find out what those red things above each poster were?” “Yeah! I showed it to Natalie today during class, & I guess she knows a bit about tech stuff, so she’s gonna do some research on it & tell me what’s up with it later.”

The microwave went off. The popcorn was done.

“Why Natalie?” Cherry asked, opening up the microwave & pulling the popcorn out. “What’s wrong with Natalie? She’s nice.” “Yea, when she’s not trying to steal shit & antagonize us.” “She’s helped us get out of some sticky situations. She’s not all that bad.”

Cherry opened up the popcorn & poured it all into a bowl. “Whatever. I still don’t like her.”

“I’m back!” Kalani grinned, entering the kitchen with the book. “Awesome! Let’s get to reading!”

The group got all huddled up in Kalani’s living room. The book was laid out in front of them, & the popcorn was sitting on the coffee table. Kalani flipped through the pages.

“Alright... we’ve already read about the weapons... let’s see.. Aha!”

Kalani had landed on a page titled CELESTIALS.

“This seems interesting enough to read about!” “Celestials? What the hell is a Celestial?” “‘A Celestial is a god-like being, each one representing a different element of life,’” Kalani read. “‘There are currently 9 Celestials who reside at the Castle of Celestials.’”

“Ooh! They have a castle!” “I’ve never been to a castle before. Unless bouncy castles count. Then I’ve been to dozens.”

“‘The 9 Celestials are as follows:’” Kalani continued reading from the book. “‘Fate, Time, Mr. Moon, Sun, Betty, Spring, Storm, Good, & Evil.’”

“Why does Mr. Moon get an honorific? Nobody else has a ‘Mr.’, a ‘Ms.”, or even a ‘Mx.’ What’s their deal?” “Maybe they’re the most important?” “I don’t think so. You remember that quote-unquote ‘dream’ we had?” “How could we forget?” “The dream mentioned that we were chosen ‘by Fate itself,’ & in the list it says there’s a Celestial named Fate.” “So Fate’s the most important one then?” “I guess so.”

“Wait,” Nora said, pointing toward a line in the book. “It says here that each Celestial represents a different element. What element is Betty supposed to represent?” “Who knows? It’s not like there’s a list of each element or anything, so all we can do is guess.” “& there are 2 Celestials named Good & Evil respectively! Why aren’t they maintaining ‘the balance between good & evil’ instead of us?!” “That’s fucked up.” “I’m gonna flip ahead to a different page.” “What, we’re not reading the book in order?” “What? No. That’s for losers.”

Kalani flipped ahead a couple of pages. She landed on a page titled CASTLE OF CELESTIALS. On the page, along with some writing, was an illustration of the so-called “Castle of Celestials,” which was light blue & white.

“Ok, that’s a sick looking castle.”

Clearing his throat, Kalani began reading. “‘The Castle of Celestials is where the Celestials live. Occasionally, we let guests hang around for a while if they need a place to stay-’” “We? These Celestial guys wrote this book?” “I guess so.” “Could you not interrupt me when I’m reading?” “Sorry, ‘Lani.” “Ahem.. as I was saying... ‘As you are (presumably) the prophesied heroes, you are free to come & go whenever you please. All you must do to visit is be in Hero Mode & just think about going to the Castle.’” “Why does everything have to be in Hero Mode?” “I dunno. But I’m too tired to go to this castle right now, so who cares?” “Yea, we’ll just.. keep that knowledge in our minds until we need it.”

Cherry yawned, stretching their arms. “Maybe we should call it a night. Read this thing tomorrow or something.” “Yea, sounds good. G’night everyone-”

Leslie’s phone buzzed all of a sudden. “Oh! That must be Natalie!” “Oh, great.” Cherry rolled her eyes. “Let’s see what she said!”

Leslie took out its phone & looked at the text it had just received. The smile on its face quickly faded into a frown.

“What is it?”

They showed the phone to the group, so they could all read what the text said. Attached was a picture of the red, metal thing, & what Natalie had to say about it wasn’t pleasant.Natalie: its a camera.

[kaunis-sielu]

Fire Dogs: End

The trip out to New York is uneventful. You sleep in the car occasionally but you do stop at a couple of hotels you never sleep super well. Besides there’s something about being in a car with your Alpha that just soothes you to sleep. You wake at one point and hear him talking softly on the phone.

“Nat, I don’t want a big party. It’s going to stress her out and she’s probably going to be close to a heat so I don’t want a ton of people around. Just you, Clint, Wanda, Carol and Jarvis.”

“Everyone is so excited though.”

“They’re going to have to wait. Her well-being is my first concern.”

“Steve,”

“Natasha.” He warns lowly and you hear her sigh.

“Fine. Fine. I’ve got a few places lined up for you to look at as well as a property so if building your own place is more appealing you can do that. I don’t know how sensitive your Omega’s nose is.”

“I doubt she does either. We’re about four hours out. Thanks for doing all of this Nat.”

“I’m glad you finally found someone worthy of you Alpha.” You don’t love that she calls him Alpha, so you take a deep breath so Steve knows that you’re awake.

“Thank you Natasha. See you soon.”

“Bye.” She says and Steve hangs up.

“How much did you hear?”

“Her call you Alpha.” You admit grumpily and he laughs softly.

“Are you a little jealous?” When you grumble in response he sobers up, “They all do that Omega, not just Natasha. It’s a respect thing.”

“It was jarring. You’re my Alpha.”

“I know, I’m sorry I should’ve warned you.” He soothes, his hand is warm on your thigh when he reaches over. You trace the back of his hand with one of your fingers.

“How close are we?”

“About 4 hours, you need to stop?”

“No, I was just curious. I’m nervous too, I’m meeting your pack.”

“You’re only meeting a couple today. The rest will trickle in when you’re ready, take as long as you need.”

“Okay, thank you.”

The rest of the ride is spent in comfortable conversation and singing along to the radio. He puts you at such ease that you forget to be anxious, at least until Steve pulls off of the freeway.

“Take a breath Honey, it’s going to be fine.” He promises and you cling to his hand as he drives for a couple more minutes then pulls up to a little house. “Let me know when you’re ready to go in.”

“Can, god this is so stupid, can you calm me?”

“Oh Honey I can absolutely do that. C’mere.” He mutters before kissing you softly, his hands cup your face and you feel the sense of calm wash over you. He pulls away from you then kisses along your jaw, before covering your mouth once more. “How do you feel Omega?” He murmurs softly and you hum lowly.

“Good.”

“Ready?”

“Yes, as I will ever be.” His calm makes you feel a little drowsy but it’s better than the panic you could be in. Steve gets out of the car and you follow him, Cooper waits patiently in the back to be let out. You take his leash and he walks calmly next to you, Steve meets you at the front of the car. He takes your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze,

“I don’t think anyone is here yet.” Sure enough when he unlocks the door the house is empty.

“Oh god it smells good in here.” You mutter softly, “Can I let Cooper wander?”

“It’s your house too now Honey. You don’t have to ask.” You unhook Cooper’s leash and he wanders around the living room. “You look good in here, you belong here.”

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me Steve.” You tell him giving him a tight hug.

“Oh Honey.” He says gently before kissing your cheek. “Wanna see the house?” You nod and he leads you through the house showing you where things are. The doorbell rings and you tense up and the calm washes over you again as Steve presses a kiss to the side of your head. Cooper barks and you can’t help but smile at the familiarity of it all.

“Thanks Steve.” You follow him downstairs and when the door opens it’s just Sam and Bucky and a pretty blonde woman who you assume is Carol.

“Had to fight Becca to get her to stay home.” Bucky says with a punch to Steve’s arm, “thought she was gonna scream me to death when I told her ‘bout your Omega.” Carol gives you a kind smile as she follows Sam into the house, she smells like Oranges and chocolate.

“Wish she would’ve screamed you to death. Then we wouldn’t have to listen to your dumb ass anymore.” Sam says lowly.

“I see the two of you have had enough time together.” Carol says with a laugh, “Hi Fawn, I’m Carol. Sam’s much, much better half.” She doesn’t try to shake your hand or touch you in anyway which you appreciate.

“Hi, thank you for coming.”

“Thank you for spoiling Sam, he says you’re one hell of a cook.” She says kindly, “We live right next door so when the boys are at work feel free to call if you need anything.” She puts a business card down on the end table then drops down onto Sam’s lap.

Next comes a young woman with auburn hair and a tall man with purple hair. Steve introduces them as Wanda, an Alpha and Viz, a Beta. They’re one of the newer pairs in Steve’s pack but it seems like everyone was just kind of waiting for it to happen. Wanda is a calm in the storm that is the three other Alpha’s currently wresting for control of the remote on your couch.

“Enough.” Steve growls at the three of them as their scents spike and you bury your face into his chest.

Natasha and Clint come next, Nat is the one that you’d heard on the phone earlier and when you see her that little possessiveness rears it’s head. She’s beautiful. “Omega.” Steve rumbles into your ear and you feel so silly for being jealous of her using his title.

“You didn’t do her justice Rogers.” She says giving you a kind smile, one you tightly return. She and Clint are both Betas, she’s more smoky smelling and he’s more earthy but both are pleasant. She calls Steve Alpha once but he quickly pulls her aside and after they talk quietly she doesn’t do it again. Overall the night is a success, and you go to bed happy.

The next day is spent looking at different houses they’re about thirty minutes outside of the city. The first neither of you is thrilled with, the second doesn’t have a yard for Cooper, the third is off a busy street and smells terrible but when you pull up to the plot of land it all clicks.

“Would you be mad if I said I wanted to build?” You ask Steve as you stand at the top of the hill the property is on. The view here is incredible overlooking a river and some woods below you.

“Not at all.” He assures you, a hand on the small of your back, “whatever it takes to make you happy.”

“It’s going to be so expensive.”

“That’s okay. I’m independently wealthy.” You stare up at him for a second to see if his kidding,

“I’m sorry what?”

“Old money. If you didn’t want to you’d never have to do another book again.”

“Why are you a firefighter?”

“I like serving the community, and I’m good at it.” You stare at him for a moment longer then look back out over the property.

“This feels right doesn’t it?”

“Yea Honey it does.” He agrees, so you sign some paperwork and buy the plot of land. You want to get building started before your heat hits and you smell like an Omega and you do so just in time. Apparently Clint runs a very successful construction firm so you get the layout of the house done in two days.

When you wake on the third day you know you’re in your heat. You wake up feeling just as tired as you did yesterday and everything smells so bad except Steve. He goes to get up and you whimper softly, and he freezes as you reach out to him.

“Honey are you in heat?”

“I think so. It’s been so long since I’ve had an actual heat.”

“Do you want to talk to one of our Omegas?”

“You actually have those?” He huffs out a chuckle.

“Yea, not many but we do. Becca is one.” A cramp hits and you gasp in surprise. Steve reaches for his phone and you grab onto his arm.

“No, I just need you Steve.”

“Omega are you sure?”

“Yes, please Steve. I wanted to be sure that without my suppressants you were still my Alpha. You are. Please.” He rolls so that he’s on top of you, his knees between yours an arm on either side of your head and his scent all around you. “You smell so good Steve.”

“So do you Omega.” He grumbles he’s about to kiss you when his phone rings. You both groan loudly before he rolls off of you and grabs it.

“What?” Someone on the other end talks, “No, my Omega is in heat.” He says before hanging up. The phone rings again before he even puts it down so he stalks to the window, opens it and throws the phone outside.

“You know there is such thing as a power button.”

“I was going to smash it so I feel like I should get some credit for my self control.” He says stalking back toward you. This time his mouth finds yours before he’s settled back over you, his dog tags hit your chest and you cling to them keeping him close to you. Steve kisses down your jaw to your pulse point then down to your scent gland.

“Do it.” You whisper, “please.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.” You’ve never been more sure about anything in your life. You feel his breath on your scent gland and you take a slow breath, then he bites. The pain and pleasure are so overwhelming that you black out. When you come to Steve is still placing soft kisses to your face.

“Omega. You back?”

“That was- indescribable. Thank you Alpha.”

“Careful Honey or you’re going to trigger my rut and then I won’t be able to spoil you.”

“I don’t need to be spoiled.”

“Too damn bad Honey. You’re going to be for the rest of your life. Now, I’m gonna go make some breakfast Becca always said day two was the harder day so I want to make sure you’re up to strength.” He goes to get up but you’ve still got a grip on his dog tags. “Omega.”

“You don’t wanna? I mean I thought-“

“Oh Omega I want you, terribly, but I don’t want to wear you out for tomorrow. From what I remember day one is for lots of sleep and comfort, day two is for sex and day three is for more sleep and comfort. Do you want me to have Bucky come take Cooper?”

“Yea. But you’ll have to go get your phone.”

“Damn it.” He grumbles but he gets to his feet, grabs the shirt he was wearing before bed and passes it to you before getting a clean one for himself. You pull his shirt on and sigh happily brushing your fingers gently over his mark. Steve glances over at you and gives you a small smile then holds a hand out for yours. “Wanna come with me to the kitchen? I can kiss ya some more while we cook.” You nod and climb out of bed with a wide smile taking the hand he offers, you’ll gladly go wherever he goes for rest of your life.

Tag list:

@memyselfandmaddox @thefanficfaerie @patzammit @dsakita @dramadreamer14 @killcomet @thesassmisstress @andahugaroundtheneck @loving-life-my-way @thefridgeismybestie @dumblani @im-just-another-monster @mywinterwolf @giggleberts @biskwitmamaw @geeksareunique @paintballkid711 @lumar014 @also-fangirlinsweden @connie326 @inkedaztec @eralen @valsworldofcreativity @strangersstranger @blackwidownat2814 @sky0401 @winterbuckystan1917 @dontbescaredtosingalong

[cantaloupe-draws]

El Chico del Apartamento 512

Irl! Quackity x Female! reader

Summary: Nothing interesting ever happens in the apartment complex you live in. It’s the same old routine for you. Constantly turning down your neighbor and heading too and from your apartment. Well that’s up until you meet the very cute boy that lives in apartment 512 that you can never seem to gather the courage to talk too. To make make matters worse, he shows up to the cafe you work at

Switches from Reader’s s POV to Quackity’s POV at the very end

Genre: Song fic, fluff, somewhat cafe trope, strangers to lovers, crushes

Warnings: use of Quackity’s real name, creepy neighbor, cursing, and I think that’s about it

Song :El Chico del Apartamento 512 by Selena

Lyrics are in bold

—

Every day is the same down the corridor

Every day it’s the same old thing. I pass the same old doors as I make my way towards my own at the end of the corridor. Counting the room numbers as I pass.

“508, 509, 510,-“ I count and but as soon as I reach room 511 the door suddenly swings forward and I’m greeted by both a whistle and Chad, my neighbor.

“Y/n baby I keep on waiting for you to go on a date with me like you promised,” Chad said as he stood in front of his door frame, right arm resting on the door. “I need to show you around town,” he said with a smirk as he rested his face on his fist.

I scoffed as I moved away from him, “The only thing you need right now is an urgent shower. You stink like a pig and it’s absolutely disgusting. Besides, I never promised you anything” I said, trying to continue on my way, but Chad just kept getting more and more persistent with every rejection. His nagging was getting annoying.

“Come Y/n I’ll take you to this bar across town, I’ll even pay for your drinks” he kept persisting.

You would think that any decent guy that’s asking you out on a date would obviously pay for them himself. It’s a given but this is Chad we’re talking about. I was sick of his terrible date ideas and I had to face him once again.

“Listen, I don’t know how many times I’ve told you this and how many times I’ll have to repeat it but, I don’t want to go on these stupids dates with you,” I told him as I rejected for what seemed to be the millionth time. And as soon as I said that the door beside us swung open.

Out came a young man wearing a navy blue cap that was covering almost the entirety of his hair but still managed to expose small tufts of dark brown hair from the sides. He looked up at the predicament Chad and I were both in and I was able to get a good look at him.

He had almond-shaped eyes that were a dark brown color and had various beauty marks scattered around his face. He was attractive. Very VERY attractive. Oh no I’m in deep shit, I thought to myself as I quickly turned away when I felt that I was staring at him for too long. He turns away from us and heads towards the elevator doors.

I stayed stunned for a few moments then turned to face Chad again, completely red in the face, dumbfounded, and at a complete loss for words. But before Chad could get another word out I quickly rushed to my apartment and leaned my back against the door once I got inside. My heart is beating fast and my chest feels tight and constricted. I quickly got myself a glass of water from my faucet and though it helped with my fast heart rate, it didn’t help the butterflies swarming around in my stomach. It might sound crazy but I think I’ve just met the man of my dreams.

Ever since then, I’ve made sure to take my sweet time walking down the corridor in hopes to see the cute boy from apartment 512 again. I’ve gone as far as to purposely make small talk and fake my interest in Chad in hopes to see him once more.

—

The boy from apartment 512 the one who makes my poor heart beat fast.

I walked into the elevator quickly pressing the button towards the first floor when I heard someone yell “HOLD THE DOOR PLEASE!”

Loud footsteps came barreling towards the elevator. The yell of itself was enough to get my blood pumping but, to make matters much worse it was the cute boy from apartment 512 who was coming towards me.

“Thank you so much,” he said out of breath once he got inside. He offered me a smile of gratitude as the elevator doors closed. I noticed that he wasn’t wearing a cap this time but, instead he was sporting a grey beanie with red and blue stripes.

‘He’s the most beautiful man I have ever seen in my entire life’ I internally screamed to myself.

“Yeah, no problem” I responded quietly in hopes I wouldn’t make a fool of myself.

Even if there weren't more than two pieces of dialogue uttered between us, it was enough for my heart to beat faster than the speed of light.

—

The boy from apartment 512 who causes me to stutter like I've never done before.

I was manning the cashier station at the cafe I worked at. It was filled to the brim with people who were either typing away on their laptops or having a conversation with their friends.

But on this day, I had finally learned his name.

The busy atmosphere had me tackling customers' orders from left to right, “Hello, may I take your order?” I said as the next customer approached me.

But surprisingly enough, I was greeted by a familiar face.

The cute boy from apartment 512.

“Yes, hello I would like a caramel macchiato please,” he said and I felt my face go red instantly.

Oh my god, it’s him again, I thought as I knew that my brain would start to scramble once more. “O-of course. Coming right up, n-name?” I asked him as I completely stumbled on my words.

“Alex,” he said, “Okay A-Alex your name will be called out when your order is ready,” I tell him as I continue on with my work.

My coworkers had never seen me lose composure like that. It was clear that they would never let me live this down but even if I made a complete fool of myself in front of him, a huge part of me also just wants to keep talking to him both night and day.

—

But today I have finally truly decided to confess my love to him

I mentally prepared myself for the next time I interacted with Alex. I’ve finally decided that the next time I would run into him, I would finally ask to get to know him better in hopes that one day friendship will blossom into a wonderful relationship. A giddy laugh escaped me as I thought of the idea.

The cafe was busy as usual, with the same groups of people coming in. As it hit peak rush hour the line of customers just kept getting longer and longer and I was attempting to quickly attend to them to the best of my ability. Somehow, this was not enough to deter the feelings of butterflies in my stomach.

I knock on his door and I get goosebumps,

a blonde answers the door and my heart breaks

As I heard the bell above our door ring once more I raised my head and saw him, Alex. He was holding the door open for a woman as she walked in. They stood close together as they waited in line. This might seem like a bit of an exaggeration but when I saw them conversing together waiting in line the butterflies that were once fluttering disappeared and were replaced with dread. As my heart dropped, I realized that one thing was wanting to be friends with him but, that doesn’t change the fact that I had grown feelings for him. If he’s in a relationship then, what now? I felt lost as to how to handle this.

As the line in front of me kept getting shorter and shorter, I was becoming anxious as his turn was approaching. Though as it was almost the pair’s turn to order, Alex suddenly turns around and leaves the line and when his turn arrives he still wasn’t there. Despite this, I still went ahead and tended his apparent girlfriend.

I truly felt my heart breaking into pieces when suddenly she asked:

"Were you looking for my brother?"

“Hello, may I take your order?” I asked her, “Yes, can I have a vanilla latte please? But um, can we wait a couple of minutes for my brother? He went to the restroom and didn’t tell me his order,” she asked. Then the realization hit me like a ton of bricks, this was his sister. I’m so dumb, how could I’ve not realized the resemblance between them?? “Yeah that’s no problem” I finally responded.

Soon enough Alex came rushing towards his sister, “I’m so sorry for the wait” he said once he reached the both of us. “Just hurry it up. I’ll be waiting for you at the table” His sister said as she turned her back to the both of us.

Turning my attention to him as I rang up his order he then speaks up “You’re one of my neighbors aren’t you?” He asks me with a grin. I stop in my tracks as if I’m a deer in headlights.

“Yeah I am actually” I smile at him trying to muster enough courage to continue our conversation.

“I thought so, you were the one who held the elevator door for me the other day right? Also, the one who was yelling at my neighbor.”

My face instantly goes red as I thought back to the first time I met Alex. “In my defense he deserved it. He’s been harassing me ever since I’ve moved in” I shudder at the thought of Chad.

“Yeah I’ve realized that he really is a douche, he enjoys banging on the damn walls at three in the morning” he said as we laugh together at the stupid things Chad has done.

“Okay, okay you’re order will be out shortly,” I tell him with a smile, feeling my heart skip a beat. But Alex doesn’t move from the line.

“To be honest the whole reason I even came here wasn’t really for a drink or anything.” He said gazing towards the floor and rubbed the back of his neck.

“This might be a bit sudden because we’ve barely met but I wanted to actually ask you for your number since you seem really nice and you’re very pretty. If you’re not interested then that’s fine, I’ll just take my drink and go” Alex said sheepishly.

After I heard these words I found myself dumbfounded. At a complete loss for words. ‘DID HE JUST SAY THAT??? HOW DO I RESPOND???’ and from there my mind was absolutely speeding to the point where I just stood there. ‘HURRY UP AND DO SOMETHING!!!’ I yelled at myself, but yet still nothing managed to escape. Alex began to fidget more and more playing with his hands as I just stood there without a response.

“It’s okay, I’ll just go now.” Alex quickly said leaving.

—

Alex’s POV

‘SHIT. FUCK. MOTHERFUCKER. STUPID IDIOT.’

I cursed at myself while I walked towards my sister. Laying my head on the table, covering it in utter embarrassment.

“That didn’t go well, did it?” My sister said while casually scrolling through her phone. “And here you were boasting about how much of a smooth talker you were. You sir, just got rejected.”

“Will you shut up?” I groaned at her not raising my head. I’m already embarrassed out of my mind and she is not making it any better.

“Fine fine, you big baby I’ll go get our drinks and then you can go home and cry.” She said standing up as our orders were called.

‘God, why did I think it was a good idea to bring my sister along? How had it not crossed my mind? I hadn’t even given it a second thought as to what I was gonna do if I did get rejected. And to make matters much worse I just got rejected in front of my sister. I will never hear the end of it at family reunions. I’m already mentally digging my grave when I heard my sister come back.

“I think this one is yours” She said as she placed my drink in front of me. I raise my head slightly so I would be able to see what was in front of me. I looked at my cup as it said:

‘To the cute boy from apartment 512’

‘xxx-xxx-xxxx -Y/n’

—

A/N- So this is the first time I’ve ever wrote fan fiction before, I mainly stick to drawing so please excuse any mistakes I tried my best. But I hope you liked it over all. Also the lyrics in English don’t make as much sense as they do in Spanish, and it’s was bugging me so if they seem a bit odd you know why.

A special thanks to @tofuyami she really helped me with the brainstorming and editing process <3

@hungoverhellhound @cherrysirin @tofuyami @nealocus @struggling-with-time @bugsinmycoldsoup @venusacrossthestars @galaxygnf

Also stand Selena always -🍈

[thefanficmonster]

Hey, I'm the 3word anon! I guess to make this easier, you call call me 📚🌻

I just wanted to say that you did an amazing job! I loved reading what you've done! You said that you wanted more words so here it is your next words: tradition, needle and tribute

Love, 📚🌻

I'm so glad you liked it dear 📚🌻 ! I absolutely love this challenge and I don't think I'll ever get tired of it hehe. Hope you enjoy this one too!

Freedom

Pairing: Rick Flag x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of drug use, Mentions of injury Spoiler Free 😊

Genre: Romance, Humor

“Flag, I have someone coming on-board with you.“ Waller’s voice comes in through the radio of the jet colonel Rick Flag was about to take off with, taking the Suicide Squad on their newly assigned mission.

He rolls his eyes, engine of the jet roaring to signal it’s ready to lose contact with the ground and rise up into the skies - much like Rick, who’s already fed up with the Squad’s members who are explicitly annoying and pesky today, promising him a ton of headaches in the near future. With that in mind, these news Waller has given him so suddenly, he’s not particularly excited to welcome another lunatic on the jet. Another lunatic to deal with.

“Who the hell are you sending? Don’t you think my hands are already full enough?!“ He yells at the top of his lungs in order for his voice to overpower the engine’s loudness.

“I’m here to help you, you ungrateful piece of shit!“ This voice, familiar voice, doesn’t emerge from the radio, instead it’s coming from right behind him and is equally as strained as his due to the loud, ear-bleeding surroundings.

Before Rick can even comprehend the presence of another person, said person gets seated on the copilot’s seat, equipping a pair of headphones so the two can communicate without pushing their lungs to the brink of giving out.

“What the hell are you doing here, L/N?“ He asks, his eyes unable to hide even a little bit of the confusion that the girl’s presence has brought upon him.

Contrary to his seriousness and shock, the girl gives him a bright, almost teasing smile, “Oh come on, Flag. I have a soft spot for you, you know, I like helping you.“ She tilts her head ever so slightly, “And I don’t feel like giving Waller the pleasure of detonating this bomb at the back of my neck.“

“Thought so.“ He scoffs, watching Y/N’s movements out of the corner of his eye as she straps herself in. 

She rolls her eyes, cracking her knuckles before turning to him, deciding to pick up on this petty war, just to make matters worse for Rick and more amusing for herself, “Aren’t you gonna shoot me? I mean, it’s our tradition.”

Rick cringes, recalling the exact event - or rather events, plural - she’s referring to: the night he arrested her and a few others, all henchmen of the Joker. Unlike her co-workers however, Y/N put up one hell of a fight while those fuckers chose flight. Their decision didn’t get them far while hers led her to the hospital wing of the Belle Reve prison, a bullet in her side fired at her by colonel Flag. Seeing the report files on the altercation, Waller immediately knew the girl was something else and recruited her for the Suicide Squad.

Unfortunately, her first instinct when her eyes first landed upon the colonel was to pounce at him, despite her low chances of succeeding in her intentions considering there were guards and soldiers literally everywhere, all with guns ready to fire. Yet still, Flag was the one who shot her yet again, this time less dangerously close to fatal.

Yeah, she has a right to be pissed and a right to call it their tradition, but it’s also safe to say that their dynamic has improved. They went on to go on a few more missions together without any complications or unwanted altercations. Sure, there were snide remarks and petty comments here and there, but those could be considered compliments when compared to the shootings.

“When are you gonna let that go?“ Rick snaps, his eyes remaining fixated ahead while the jet slowly ascends, “I got you off the streets. I freed you from that psychopath. The last thing you should be is mad!”

There is a long pause between the two, leading Rick to sneak a glance at his co-pilot. She appears to be deep in thought, staring ahead much like he’s supposed to be doing right now. She doesn’t seem like she’s conjuring up a sarcastic response which would be totally up her alley, but oddly enough she seems to be genuinely thinking about what he said. He starts feeling a bit shitty for having snapped at her like that - she wasn’t completely wrong to keep rubbing it in his face, she did suffer two gunshot wounds from him, after all.

“I’m not mad.“ Y/N finally speaks up, not sparing him as much as a look, “I’m grateful. The Joker isn’t the only thing I was trying to escape. One half the day I was doing his dirty work, the other half I had a needle stuck in my arm or was out cold in a drug induced half-coma.“ This time she does turn to take in the expression change that’s happened on his face and she seems pleased with the shock and confusion she sees. “Bet you didn’t know that, did ya?“ Contemplating her next move for a second, she plays with the belts of her bulletproof vest and gear before seemingly deciding on what to do. Her fingers quickly undo the belts and buttons of the gear that’s covering her torso, removing the strong and dense protective material to expose the skin of her side where there’s a scar where she had to have surgery to get the bullet removed. Around the scar there’s a tattoo of a peculiar looking flower, masking the line as a part of itself, “I got that tattoo as a reminder of that night. A tribute to more than one freedom coming to me at once.” She quickly readjusts her gear, and slumps into the seat with a sigh of a deflating balloon. “No longer a slave, no longer an addict. Though, addicts are slaves too - slaves to our own brain’s dependency on a substance that’s destroying us.”

Rick is at a loss for words. He wasn’t expecting that, never did he think Y/N was an addict as well prior to being a henchwoman and then a prisoner. That’s probably due to the fact that she’s always been in a great physical shape, ready to take on the enemy whenever and wherever. “Damn, fucking hell, I’m sorry you had to go through that, Y/N...“ He really doesn’t know what’s there to say when he now feels even shittier than he did before.

He almost jumps out of his skin when he feels her hand on his bicep, “I would still be going through it if it wasn’t for you. In fact, come to think of it, I should apologize for pouncing at you like that when all you did was do me a favor.” She giggles quietly before adding, “But I won’t.”

He too allows himself a small laugh, “I wasn’t expecting you to.“

Of course he wasn’t, he’s come to know her well. And he also knows it’s nothing personal - Y/N is simply not the type of girl who apologizes. That he can stomach, but imagining his co-pilot seat unoccupied on the way back from this mission he cannot.

Damn it, Flag. God fucking damn you, you’ve done it again haven’t you, he asks himself, knowing the answer perfectly well already.

[jenn-i-guess]

Pictured Confessions//Kiribaku

Imagine Class 1-A bringing in old childhood photo albums and middle school yearbooks, all except for Kiri who was too embarrassed to bring anything like that.

That doesn’t stop Mina from bringing her own middle school yearbook, and guess what?

Besides finding a-kind of the same looking-picture of younger Mina, they find an INTERESTING picture of middle school Kirishima...

Black straightened hair, dark grey eyeshadow, and tons of (seemingly fake) piercings, jutting out of his lip and nose, even one on his eyebrow, with one shaved line at the crease.

But the cherry on top was the very obvious Hot Topic shirt with what seemed to be a cover of some heavy metal band.

Silence fills the room, heat radiating off of the very embarrassed Kirishima, pressing his face into his palms.

If he was a cartoon, steam would definitely be shooting from his ears.

“Dude...” Sero began.

“You were such an emo!” Kaminari finished with a snort, eyes watering.

Groaning into his hands once more, he began to wonder how he could possibly die at this moment.

Maybe if the floor could just swallow him whole, it would be doing him a big favor right about now.

“W-Well!” He started, reaching out and grabbing Mina’s yearbook.

“Two can play at that game! Did you know-“ Kiri paused, for dramatic affect, flipping many of the laminated pages before he found what he was looking for, “That Mina used to be in the drama club?!”

Mina shrieked as their friends began crowding around the book again, looking at a very embarrassing picture.

Hopefully much more embarrassing than his that it would be long forgotten.

It was a large picture, in which Mina was wearing a huge white wig and a judge’s dress while holding her arms up in the air.

The picture captured her face when she was pursing her lips, her eyes widening comically.

“No! Don’t look!” Mina screamed, jutting her arms out before grabbing the book, slamming it shut and holding it against her chest, a wild look on her face.

“Nice wig, Mina.” Kaminari wheezed, his face scrunching up like he just tasted a lemon, trying to hold back more laughter.

“Oh you’re one to talk. Where’s your yearbook?” She smirked, pleased with herself when Kaminari blanched and shut up quite completely.

Everyone began to gather around Kaminari, poking him to show his memorabilia.

Kirishima sighed, choosing this moment to step out.

Looking around the room, he noticed there was one less person than before.

A certain blonde, whom he had really hoped had not seen the embarrassing photo of him but it would’ve been hard not to, what with Mina holding it up for all the class to see.

He scanned the room and saw Bakugou walking back towards the elevator, jamming his finger on the button with so much more anger than necessary.

Curious, Kirishima walked fast over to him, ignoring the quick chattering of his friends.

Just as the elevator was about to close, Kirishima jutted his foot between the two sliding doors, stopping them momentarily.

“Hey! Wait up Bakubro!” He slid in, feeling the blonde’s crimson eyes boring holes into the back of his head.

“The hell are you doing, shitty-hair?” Bakugou sneered, watching as the redhead pressed the button to their floor, smiling when it made a soft chiming noise.

“Eh, I’m bored. I’m just gonna work out in my room and then probably hit the hay.” Kirishima shrugged.

Bakugou nodded, shoving his fists into his grey sweatpants pockets, leaning against the elevator wall.

The redhead stared a little more at his friend, lingering on his face.

He had never seen the blonde so...emotionless.

His pale face smooth and relaxed, no wrinkles or furrowed eyebrows from his usual spouts of anger.

In fact he looked...pretty. Not just his face, but the light blonde tufts of hair styled in spikes surrounding it.

Well...Kiri also thought he looked hot as well.

What?! You can’t really blame him!

Not when Bakugou wore those black tank tops, showing off hints of his pectorals, doing nothing to stop him from looking at the muscles bulging on his arms.

It was especially excruciatingly painful to watch whenever they trained together.

Watching beads of sweat fall down beyond the collar of his top, making Kirishima wonder what was beyond that line of clothing.

Wondering how it would feel if he touched that expanse of skin.

A loud chime spooked him out of his very homoerotic thoughts, a faint dust of red filling the apples of his cheeks as he realized he had still been staring at Bakugou’s meaty biceps.

He grimaced, hoping Bakugou didn’t see him staring, but he didn’t get a chance to, as Bakugou was already walking out of the elevator.

Kirishima inhaled deeply, shaking his head as he followed Bakugou to their neighboring dorms.

The blonde stopped in front of his door, turning to stare at Kirishima.

The redhead gulped, nervously watching as Bakugou looked him up and down, seeming like he was expecting Kiri to say something.

“Well, goodnight Bakugou!” He smiled at him, going to open his door when suddenly a much lighter hand slammed it shut once more.

“Hold on.” Bakugou demanded, his gruff voice bouncing against the empty hallway.

Kirishima paused, his lips shut tight as he waited for Bakugou to say more.

“Um...yes?” He smiled meekly, his lips not exactly curving upwards.

Bakugou furrowed his eyebrows, his cheeks flushing red as he stammered, “Y-You! You still need help with tutoring tonight, right?!” He yelled out the last bit.

Ah! Tonight is Friday! Their tutoring night!

With all of the excitement of yearbooks and family pictures he must’ve forgotten completely!

Ugh, so unmanly to keep Bakugou waiting, to make him ask like this.

“Oh! Yes yes, right! Of course, my bad Bakugou.” Kiri nodded his head, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, beginning to turn red with embarrassment.

Bakugou relaxed his shoulders, the smallest of grins beginning to show on his face.

“Whatever, ‘s not like I expected you to remember anything with that pea-sized brain of yours.” He mocked, turning around to open his door.

“Hey! My brain is normal sized, just like yours!” Kirishima retaliated, stomping after Bakugou.

The door clicked shut behind them, entrapping Kirishima inside of the cool shadowy room that was Bakugou’s.

Besides being cooler temperature wise, the room was also very...boring.

It surprised him every time Kirishima walked into Bakugou’s room, just the overall average ness.

Bland grey walls with nothing decorating them, not even so much as a poster of his favorite hero.

And to go along with the insane asylum decor, black bedsheets and a white pillowcase, neatly put together as if he never touched the bed at all.

Kirishima smiled to himself, feeling comfortable in the others room, a sense of familiarity.

The blonde groaned before flipping down on his bed, back-first.

“So, what is it that you need help with?” He spoke, his usually rough voice toning down a bit.

Kiri started to speak, but paused as he took a breath.

Actually, he didn’t really have anything to work on.

Final exams were over, there were no surprise tests sprung out by Aizawa.

Truly, there was no reason he should even be in this room at all.

So why did he want to stay?

Stuttering out his last breath, he crouched onto the floor, shuffling into a criss-crossed position.

“Well, actually-“ He chuckled nervously, watching as Bakugou leaned upwards, resting on his elbows while staring at him incredulously.

“Ha, I guess I don’t really have anything to do. I don’t really need to study for anything.”

“So then, why’d you come in here?” Bakugou grunted, sitting up all the way and leaning forwards with his elbows resting on his knees.

“Honestly?” Kiri shrugged, “I don’t know, I’m so exhausted from today. Just having to deal with everyone yelling and having to show people photos, especially mine!” He groaned.

But some part of him did wonder if Bakugou knew what he was talking about.

But oh bOy was he not at all prepared for the answer to that question!

“Oh, you mean that hot picture of you?”

Kirishima wheezed, his lungs squeezing together as all the air escaped his body.

He coughed-super attractively-while trying to think of anything to say.

It didn’t help that Bakugou just kept staring at him, his eyebrows raised and a subtle smirk keeping his lips quirked up.

“Ahem, what?” Kiri’s heart hammered against his chest, his fingers feeling oddly clammy clasped together.

“I said-“ Bakugou shuffled himself onto the floor, leaning closer into Kirishima’s space.

So close that Kiri could smell the spicy scent of the blonde’s body wash, almost intoxicating to him.

“I thought that picture of you was hot.” He rumbled, one of his eyebrows quirking upwards in such a way that Kiri could actually feel his heart stopping and starting at the same time.

“Ah, um cool.” He sputtered before his brain caught up to his idiotic mouth.

Cool?!

Kill him. Right here right now. He is a waste of a human body.

But a light airy sound broke him out of his embarrassing trance, a laugh.

Bakugou was chuckling at him. And in a really cute way!

Kirishima could rarely ever get Bakugou to laugh, most of the time he was the one being laughed at.

Just like now but...it was different. The way he was laughing, the smile stretching his lips.

There were indents marking at the corner of his eyes as he laughed, small divots of skin.

“Dumbass.” Bakugou chortled, biting his lips to reel in another fit of laughter.

Oh. Wow.

Kiri was definetly sure he was blushing now, half of it being because of embarrassment but the other half...

Adoration.

Damn, Eijirou was really swimming in the deep end wasn’t he?

“Sh-Shut up! You can’t just-just say something like that and expect a good answer out of me!” Kirishima whined, balling up his hands in frustrations.

“What is your answer?” Bakugou asked, nonchalantly.

Kiri paused once more, “My what?”

“You said,” Bakugou smirked, “That I cant expect a good answer. How about just a regular one?��

“A...regular one?”

Oh boy. Was this really happening? Oh god oh fuck-

Bakugou hummed, his face going slack as he waited for an answer.

“Well, I guess it’s okay that you found me hot, then.”

But the real question still lingered on his lips, like a bad aftertaste.

“And it’s fine if you...don’t find me attractive now.” He murmured the last part, a part of him hoping Bakugou didn’t catch what he said.

Kiri glanced back up when he heard a harsh scoff come from Bakugou’s mouth.

“Tch, never said that.” He muttered, his face growing steadily pink.

“You-“

Kiri blanked.

His outer body seemed to get clammy and sweaty but his insides, it felt as if he was being burned.

His heart hammered painfully, and he found it even harder to breathe.

“What...Bakugou what do you mean by that?” Kirishima asked, his voice quivering on the last word, staring straight at Bakugou’s crimson eyes.

The blonde shifted, growing more embarrassed by the second. He wiped his calloused hands against his mouth and bit his lip.

“Bakugou-“

Kirishima reached out and grabbed Bakugou’s hand, feeling the sweat mixing in with his own.

He wanted to feel it.

If this moment really was happening he wanted to feel how it felt.

Eijirou swallowed down his building saliva, using his thumb to rub gentle circles onto the blonde’s soft skin.

“I-I like you too. If this means what I think it means, I like you too.” He couldn’t help but let the nervous smile contort his lips, the tips of his sharp teeth sticking out, like white gleams in the darkness of Bakugou’s room.

The blonde’s head snapped back to stare at Kirishima, his eyes widening in what seemed to be disbelief, then softening.

Bakugou snorted, twisting his hand away, almost causing Kirishima’s heart to break into pieces.

That is until those lovely hands came up to rest lightly on his face, palms squishing his cheeks lightly.

And god the sudden warmness of those palms made his heart stutter.

And it gave him a thrill as well.

Knowing that in a matter of seconds these hands could explode and destroy everything that they touched.

Yet, they touched him so softly, his thumbs barely grazing any skin.

“Then, I hope you don’t mind if I do this.” Bakugou breathed out, his face inching closer and closer, his breath mingling with Kirishima’s.

Getting ever so close until eventually...

Kirishima closed his eyes in bliss, his own soft lips sliding against Bakugou’s rougher chapped ones.

He sighed through his nose, his own hands coming up to rest on Bakugou’s shoulders.

Wow, it felt so nice.

So right.

Like this was exactly the place his lips belonged.

Right on top of Bakugou’s.

He gasped for air as the blonde’s tongue warily poked between his lips, sliding in when Kirishima allowed.

“Woah okay!” Kirishima pulled away, chuckling as his face burned with excitement.

Bakugou smirked, poking his tongue out to swipe across his bottom lip. “Too much?” He teased.

Kirishima groaned loudly, falling on top of Bakugou’s knees to hide his enflamed face.

“Dude, you suck so much right now.” His voice was muffled against the blonde’s knees.

“Mm, too bad. You’re gonna have to live with it.”

Bakugou’s voice rumbled, the vibrations tickling Kiri’s cheeks.

Kirishima jolted up, a large toothy smile on his face.

“You mean...is this you trying to ask me out?” Kirishima whispered, leaning closer his cheeks starting to hurt from how wide his smile was.

Bakugou narrowed his eyes, holding his hands up.

Kirishima yelled as Bakugou used one of his fingers to flick him painfully at the tip of his nose.

“Ow!” He looked to the blonde for answers, rubbing his abused nose.

“The fuck do you mean? Was me kissing you not enough dipshit?!” Bakugou sneered, his furrowed eyebrows making him look like a grumpy cat.

Kirishima chuckled, smiling as he leaned forward.

“No no, it was.” He used his hand to squish Bakugou’s cheeks together, placing a gentle kiss on his puckered lips.

Bakugou relaxed, humming against his lips. “Good.” He murmured.

“Good.” Kirishima leaned back, his eyes widening when he saw the smile on Bakugou’s face.

A smile, though not large, but wide enough to show his gleaming teeth.

He leaned in again to see if that smile tasted just as good as it looked.

It did.

[poguesmaybank]

Bathing

Smut Fic Fest Prompt: Bathing

Part Three of the Father’s Day Project

Word Count: 2134

Warning: Smut

Arm wrapped around Edyt’s waist, Finan waved goodbye to his children and in-laws from the porch as Leofric pulled his car from the drive. Edyt relaxed back against his chest with a sigh the second the car disappeared from sight. Finan chuckled, wrapping his other arm around her and pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“Tired?” he asked, smiling down at her. Edyt hummed in response, turning in his arms to wrap her arms around his neck.

“I love them,” she told him, laying her head on his chest, “but they can be exhausting.”

“Why don’t we go inside and relax?” Finan suggested, guiding her into the house.

“Have you seen the house?” Edyt asked, “Our day isn’t over until it’s clean.”

Finan sighed, knowing she wouldn’t sit until their home was in order. He pressed a kiss to her cheek and went to grab a trash bag from under the sink. Returning to her side, he pulled her into a proper kiss, one to make her mind clear and her toes curl.

“I’ll take the outside, if you want the living room,” he offered, forehead pressed to hers. She nodded, tiptoeing to kiss him once more, before disappearing into the living room. The outside clean up went quicker than he expected and when he made his way back into their home, he found Edyt already vacuuming. 

Locking the doors, he made his way up the stairs to their bedroom. He paused a moment at their bedside to look once more at the cards his children had made, before making his way into the en suite. Edyt had insisted, when they’d been house hunting, for a place with a large tub. She would not settle for one that did not cover both her shoulders and her knees.

Finan turned the taps, allowing the water to warm before placing the plug. Opening the second drawer on her side of the sink, he produced a bath bar, filling the tub with bubbles, before drying his hands. Grabbing a handful of candles from the linen closet he placed them around the tub, near enough to shine light but not near enough to catch either of them aflame. As he turned the water off, he heard Edyt entering the bedroom.

“Finan?” her voice floated towards him from the other side of the door. 

“Aye, love,” he said making his way to open the door, “I was going to grab us a bottle of wine, but if you want to go ahead and slip in while the water is warm.”

Finan flicked off the bathroom light and moved out of the doorway, so she could see the room that he had set up. Edyt nodded, pulling him down to kiss her.

“Aren’t I supposed to be spoiling you today?” she asked, slipping by him and untying the sash of her wrap around dress. Finan didn’t move, watching as she let the fabric fall from her body. She looked over her shoulder and offered him a coy smile, “I really don’t think we need the wine, Finan.”

“No,” he muttered, making his way over to her. He pressed kisses along her shoulder as he unclasped her bra and pushed the material down her arms. Edyt let the material fall to the floor and tilted her head to allow him more access to her neck. Finan’s fingers danced slowly down her arms, before finding their way up over her stomach. He held her breast softly in each hand, lifting them enough that he could need them softly, tweaking the peaking nipples.

His name fell from her lips as her head fell back against his chest, and he used the new angle to press his lips to hers. She kissed him back lazily, tongue swiping across his bottom. Breaking out of his hands, she turned to him, hands wrapping around his neck, as she pushed up on her toes to kiss him again. Her hands pushed his Father’s Day shirt up until she had to break their kiss to pull it over his head. 

Edyt trailed her kisses along the newly exposed skin, fingers popping the button on his jeans. She moved back, slipping her underwear down her thighs as he pushed his pants down. His eyes never left her as he stepped out of them. He moved to her, hands cupping her face as he pulled her into another kiss. 

“I love you,” he told her, before stepping into the bath. A groan escaped him at the wonderful feeling and Edyt laughed at him.

“I love you too,” she said, taking the hand he offered and letting him help her into the tub. She gasped at the silky feeling, waiting impatiently for Finan to settle down into the water so she could join him. She sunk into the water, her back against his chest. Her eyes fluttered closed as the warm water rose over her chest, enveloping her whole body. She felt Finan chuckle behind her, running his hands up her arms and over her chest.

“I missed this,” he mumbled, trailing his lips along her neck. Edyt hummed happily, as his hands wandered her form. He let his palm press against her lower stomach, “We used to do this all the time when you were pregnant.”

“Finan,” she warned, not opening her eyes. One hand stayed on her stomach, the other wandering back north to fondle her breast. “No more babies.”

“One more,” he barter, still caressing her skin. “Think about it. Another girl, brilliant and blonde, just like her mother.”

“We already have a girl, who is nothing like her mother,” Edyt muttered, gasping as he tweaked her nipple between her fingers. “Iseult is just like you. Give it a few years and she’ll be married and there will be tons of little feet running around.”

“Edyt, you can’t tell me,” he said, pressing a separate kiss to her neck after each word, “you haven't thought about it.”

“I have,” she admitted, turning her head to capture his lips, “I’ve thought about it alot.”

“Oh?” he mumbled, as she leaned up needing to breathe out of his embrace, his presence clouding her better judgement.

“You’re an amazing father, you know that?” she asked, soaping up a washcloth. She moved away from him and turned to face him. Sitting on heels, she ran the cloth over his shoulders and chest. “I love that about you. And my god, do I love seeing you with the kids, not just ours.”

“Trying to get my hopes up?” he asked her. She shook her head, smiling softly at him.

“No, I’m just saying I have thought about it,” she answered, moving back into his arms, legs straddling his waist and kissing him gently. “We’d be old parents. Say we got pregnant next week, which is unlikely, but let's pretend. You’d be in your fifties before it’s ten. I wouldn’t be far behind.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” he asked. Edyt shrugged.

“I wanted to spend our sixties relaxing, not raising another teenager,” she told him.

“She’ll be twenty by then,” he said, pulling Edyt to kiss him. Edyt laughed and shook her head, but let him kiss her anyway.

“We’d have to go to the doctor,” she muttered against his lips, “make sure we’re even healthy enough to try it.”

“I can make the appointment first thing tomorrow,” he answered, kissing her again while his hands ran down her, gripping her ass firmly.

“It’ll be a lot of work,” she gasped, as his kisses trailed south, pulling her out of the water enough to allow him access to her breasts.

 “I love work,” he muttered, between the kisses he peppered along her chest. Edyt brought his lips back to hers, her hands wandering along his shoulders and down his chest.

“I’m not making any promises,” Edyt muttered against his lips, before trailing kisses back along his jaw, “but we can talk about it in the morning. Until then I think we could do with some practice.”

“Oh?” Finan said, grinning at her. “I think you’re right. We need to be ready when you agree.”

Edyt laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck as he pulled her closer, water sloshing around them. Finan captured her lips again, one hand tangling in her hair. Edyt moaned into the kiss as his free hand traveled south, gripping her ass. Edyt shifted, the tub suddenly feeling too small for their current endeavor. She could feel him pressing against her thigh. He moved his hand from her hair to tease at her entrance. 

“Finan, we will make a mess,” she told him, pressing her lips to the spot just below his ear. He groaned as she sucked at the flesh.

“Messes can be cleaned,” he countered, slipping two fingers inside of her. Edyt moaned his name, head falling back as he moved his fingers in and out, thumb pressing against the bundle of nerves between her legs. Finan attached her lips to her neck, nipping and sucking along the flesh as he moved back down to her breasts. He flicked his tongue along the nipple, before blowing on his feeling his nails tighten against shoulders.

“You, sir,” she muttered, hands trailing down his chest, “are a bad influence.”

She knocked his hand away so she could grab his cock, stroking it briefly before lining him up at her entrance. Slowly, she sunk down on him. She moaned at the familiar stretching feeling, his hands gripping her ass firmly, helping her bounce on him. Finan kissed her, briefly, before returning his attention to her breast, the sloshing water splashed against his chin. He seemed not to notice, focusing on burying his face in the mounds. Edyt’s knees ached as Finan suddenly stopped her.

“Shower,” he muttered, realizing that the tub might have been a mistake. She nodded, an unintentional sigh of relief leaving her. She climbed out of the tub, turning on the shower as Finan followed. He wrapped himself around her, lips against her neck, cock grinding against her ass, fingers playing with the bundle of nerves between her legs. She melted into him, legs feeling weak as he touched her. She could feel her orgasm building, hips shifting against his hand. 

“Fuck,” Edyt panted when he pulled his hand her. Chest heaving, she looked at him in disbelief.   

Finan opened the shower door once the water had warmed, guiding her inside. The warm water ran over them, washing from the bubbles and soap from the bath. Turning she wrapped her arms around his neck, tiptoeing in order to kiss him. He kissed her back roughly, hands coming below her ass to lift her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he pressed her against the shower wall. The spray hit his back running down over her legs. Finan wasted no time, lining himself back up at her entrance. Edyt gasped as he entered her swiftly, setting a furious pace immediately, contrasting with the slow easy pace of the tub. 

Edyt’s orgasm began its steady build once more as his thrusts pounded him into her. Her nails dug into his shoulders and she attached her lips to the flesh just below his ear, teasing the sensitive spot. Finan gasped, forcing her lips back to his in a passionate kiss. Edyt wiggled a hand between them, barely having to touch herself as she came. Her walls squeeze tight around him, causing his hips to stutter. His name came loudly from her lips with a string of unintelligible mutterings. His own orgasm approached rapidly. Edyt felt his heart racing underneath her palm, as he found his release. 

Finan collapsed against her, forehead pressed to the shower wall as he caught his breath. He let her to her feet before kissing her gently. She wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing a kiss to his chest. Finan laid his head on top of hers.

“I bet the bath is cold,” he mumbled, causing Edyt to laugh. Pulling away, she pecked his lips.

“I guess that means we’ll have to take a proper one tomorrow,” she said, grinning at him, “and we can start in the shower. Now though, I want to cuddle.”

“I can do that,” Finan grinned, letting her pull him from the shower. He wrapped a towel around her, using it to pull her to him and kiss her once more, before finding his own towel and drying off.

“I love you,” she giggled, as scooped into his arms. He twirled her around, before falling into their bed.

“I love you too,” he answered, pulling the blankets around them. He placed a kiss on her forehead, before rubbing his nose playfully against hers. Finan turned off the bedroom lamp, ready for their long day to end.

[brokenbeskar]

Repairs

Chapter Five of Memories Reforged (Din Djarin x F!Reader)

Word Count: 11.7k

Summary: You and the Mandalorian make an emergency landing on Utrost and need to find a way to pay for repairs

A/N: This one ended up a bit longer than I had originally intended, but I had a ton of fun writing it! Hopefully you all enjoy! <3

You and the Mandalorian hadn’t spoken another word to each other while in the confines of space. You’ve simmered down quite a bit since the other day. You’re still mad--of course you are! you had every reason to be. Only instead of a burning rage, it's subsided into a simple distaste for the man you have to share the confines of this ship with. You get the feeling he probably feels the same way. 

The two of you weren’t avoiding each other by any means, neither of you were that petty, but the both of you definitely made a point not to linger around the other for too long. If he was in the cockpit, you would spend your time in the hull, and vice versa. You were purely co-existing with each other, silently passing by each other without a word. There was no direct malice by it, but there wasn’t any friendliness either. You were simply co-workers. Co-workers who didn’t like each other, but needed one another to get the job done. 

You’ll admit, you’re a little embarrassed by how you acted the other day. Not that it was unjustified-- oh no, without a doubt, it was definitely justified. 

Even still, you usually have a pretty good handle on your emotions. To completely blow up on him like that wasn’t something you would have expected from yourself. It's not what you're used to. 

None of this was what you were used to, if you’re being honest. 

Working a job with someone else--someone other than your husband. It feels strange. Everything has felt strange since he died. Nothing feels quite right anymore, and the shit show that took place on Coruscant? Just feels like another log thrown into the burning pile of things that have gone wrong for you. 

You miss him. 

Everyday you do, but especially when things go wrong--when things get hard. Especially now that you're stuck in the confines of this ship while you limp your way to Utrost. There's nothing to do other than wait. 

You have the kid to keep you busy sometimes, but when he’s sleeping, or spending time with his metal clad guardian, you’re left with nothing but your wandering mind. Left with nothing to do but think of him. Letting your thoughts transport you to a simpler and happier time. When nothing else in the galaxy mattered so long as you had each other. 

You fully immerse yourself in reliving the little things. The sound of his voice--both how it sounded running through the filter of his helmet, but how smooth and utterly rich it sounded without it. The way he sounded calling out for you, adoration lining every inch of his voice, like he was falling in love with your name for the first time everytime he said it. The way it would sound when he would first wake up, gravelly and warm. The way he would let out a soft hum as he pulled you tight against him--the warmth of his strong arms wrapping around you.

 Maker, what you would give to be in his arms again. To be comfortably wrapped up in his embrace after all of this...he would make it feel like nothing bad had ever happened to begin with. What you would give to have him comfort you, tell you everything was going to work out, and tell you everything would be okay, just like he used to. 

***

You’re still shaking as you run a sterilizing agent over his wounds. Your heart is still beating just as fast as it was, despite you being back in the safe confines of your ship. He’s watching over you silently as you slowly and tenderly clean the blood, dirt, and grime from his damaged skin. He winces slightly when you apply pressure, and you immediately halt your actions and shoot him a worried look, your heart pounding against your chest. The last thing you want to do is hurt him. You’ve done enough of that today…

“It’s okay,” He reassures you, bringing his free hand up to lightly cup your cheek, gently running his thumb along the high of your cheekbone, “I’m okay.” He offers you a warm smile, but it just makes your gut wrench. 

“No thanks to me…,” You murmur, dropping your gaze back down to his injury, as you resume your work. 

“You’re not the one who came at me with a vibroblade.” He lets out a chuckle, “Not that I would be opposed if you did, could be sexy.” He shrugs lightly. More jokes. It’s always jokes with him, but you don’t find it funny. No, this was serious to you. 

When you don’t give any sort of response in return like usual, he knows something's off. Of course he had noticed you were shaken up, but he wrongly assumed it was lingering adrenaline from the incident. He reaches out and lightly catches the wrist of your working hand, halting you from continuing to work on his wounds. 

“What’s wrong, Sen’ika?” He gives your wrist a gentle squeeze.

You tighten your grip on the sanitizing wipe in your hand, “This isn’t the time for jokes.” You spit out seriously, “You’re injured. You’re lucky it wasn’t worse!” You can’t even look at his face, you just glance over all his injuries. With each one you see, guilt pools in your chest, the sharp pain of it weighing heavy as you breathe. “This is my fault...you got hurt because of me…” You trail off as you bring your free hand up to lightly trail your fingers over the skin next to the sizable gash across his upper arm. 

“Yeah, I got hurt, but it's not that bad...and it’s definitely not your fault, sweetheart.” He tugs at your wrist, bringing up to his face so he can trail tiny kisses along the side of it.

“But it is!” You yank your wrist back from his gentle grasp, “I messed up! I made a mistake! You had to come and save me, because I fucked it all up! Again! And this time--this time you got hurt! Maybe---maybe I’m just not cut out for this…” You trail off at the end defeatedly. 

“Ner laar sennar…,” He breathes out sweetly as he reaches out for you, placing his hands firmly on the sides of your shoulders, “We all make mistakes. I knew the risk I was taking when I rushed in like that. You’re too hard on yourself. You’ve only just started this job a few months ago, and yet you’re already better than most in the guild. You’re a very impressive and capable bounty hunter.” He rubs his thumb on your shoulder softly while he speaks, and it immediately puts you at ease. He had a point, he only taught you to fire a blaster and wield a vibroblade not even a year ago. Skills you never would have even imagined yourself capable of doing before you met him.

“...Thanks,” You finally look back up to him and give him a weak smile after a beat of silence, “A Mandalorian taught me.” 

“That’s my girl!” He beams at you brightly, then suddenly he's hauling you up from the ground where you're kneeling, and pulling you down against him from where he’s sitting in the pilot’s seat. The positioning is awkward and uncomfortable, so you shuffle your knees up onto the seat and around his hips the best you can. He loosens his grip on you only enough so you can wiggle into a more comfortable position in his grasp, wrapping your arms around him, before he's squeezing you again. 

You let out a contentful sigh as you nuzzle into the side of his neck, his hand coming up to tangle in your hair while his other slowly runs along your back. He presses a kiss to your temple.

“Bounty hunting is not an easy or glamorous job. Sometimes things go wrong, sometimes mistakes happen, and sometimes we get hurt. It’s part of it.” He buries his face into your hair, and takes a deep breath before planting another kiss to your temple, “But there’s always going to be another job, another bounty, and our wounds will heal with time. All we can do is move forward and press on...but, mesh’la?” The hand he’s been gentling running down your back back stills for a moment, pressing flat against the middle of it, “As long as you’re here, by my side, in my arms…,” He gives you a firm squeeze, “ just know that it’s all going to be okay.” 

And he was right. You know the risk that comes with the job. You still feel bad about what happened, but he was okay. You were okay. All you can do is move forward and press on. And with the way he was holding you against him so tight, his face pressed into your hair, yours in the side of his neck, the way his heart beat felt against your own, you had no doubt in your mind that everything was going to be just fine.

***

But instead you were alone. Sitting on the cold ground in the hull of a ship that wasn’t yours. The metal beneath you, a glaring reminder of the harsh reality you were living in instead of the fantasy you could lose yourself in forever. You hold your helmet--his helmet--tight to your chest, and you curl around it, wishing it could bring even a fraction of the same comfort that he always gave you.

You miss him.

--------------------------

Landing on Utrost couldn’t have come any quicker. The second you felt the ship make its clumsy landing in it’s assigned hangar, you practically jumped to your feet, rushing to find your go-bag. The thought of finally being off this ship--finally getting some fresh air--and maker, some real food. Ration packs were fine most of the time, but after only being able to eat them for weeks? You’re ready for something else. 

You hear the Mandalorian descend the ladder as you click your helmet on and hit a button on the hull wall to lower the ramp. You look over in his direction, and see he has the baby tucked away in a bag on the side of his hip. You can’t help but smile to yourself with the way The child’s big eyes barely peek over the top and his big green ears stick out the sides. You almost want to ask if you can take him with you, treat him to some local street food you’re positive he would love. But with the way things have been between you and the powerful man carrying him, you don’t bother. 

When the ramp finally lowers, you immediately make your stride down, trying to contain your excitement of finally being off the ship. When your feet hit the solid ground of the hangar beneath you, you can’t help but raise your arms above you and let out a much needed stretch. You already feel lightyears better than you did before, and you haven’t even stepped into the sun yet. 

The hangar bay you got assigned to was way bigger than it needed to be considering your ship's size. It could have easily fit three more of them and still have some room to easily move about the round space. It was half enclosed, a large rounded metal covering half of the hanger and engulfing it in shade, the other half open to allow for landing. There were parts scattered about in what you assume to be an unorganized fashion. Platform lifts and transport carts are abandoned throughout the area. It looked like this place hadn’t been used in ages. 

You barely notice when an exhausted looking mechanic slowly makes his way across the hangar as the Mandalorian descends the ramp behind you. He’s punching something into the holopad in his arm as he strolls over, his goggles pushed up onto his head, pulling his hair up into a wiry mess behind them. He feels so out of place. With a bay this size you would be expecting more mechanics, droids, anything. Instead it’s just one. Dragging his feet as he makes his way over to you. It’s only when he gets closer you realize how young he looks. 

He looks up from his holopad with a heavy sigh when he sees the state of the ship. You turn to take a look yourself and---stars, that’s bad. This is the first time you’ve been able to actually see the damage. Large scorch marks plastered heavily across the entire length of it, along with huge tears in the metal. It was a disaster.

“Looks like you two got yourselves in quite the mess.” He drawls out as he steps closer to further inspect the ship. “Whatever you hit, it did some pretty serious damage. Surprised you made it here in one piece.” He continues absently as he punches some notes into his holopad. 

“How soon can you have it repaired by?” The Mandalorian next to you questions, and the mechanic scoffs in response. 

“If my droids were still up and running? I could have had her ready for you by tomorrow night. But since it's just me now, It’ll take me a few days.” 

“How long is a few days?” The mechanic turns to stare him down, glaring into his visor. “A few days. And it will be a few days more if you decide to be a pain in the ass.” He quickly turns back to continue assessing the damage. You notice something, just barely--out of the corner of your eye, you have to turn slightly to get a better look, but you notice the Mandalorian’s fists tighten at his sides. His shoulders may even tense slightly, but you aren’t sure. It might just be your mind playing tricks on you. 

Up until this point you truly thought he was unbothered by this whole thing. Like his ship getting damaged and the bounty getting away was no big deal, just another day. He’s always so stoic, so composed--like all of the time. And he almost never talks, so it’s not like he could give it away verbally. It’s only now you’re realizing, from just the slightest flex of his fists, that the illusion of his helmet--having never seen his face--almost had you believe he was completely imperturbable. Like...you knew he was irritated the day you left Coruscant, but on the days that followed it never actually occurred to you that he might be just as angry and pissed off as you were about the whole thing.

 He was.

 He was just much better at hiding it than you were.

“Alright. Looks like repairs are gonna cost ya forty thousand.” He doesn’t even flinch when he tells you the amount, like it's no big deal, tapping loudly once on the holopad to finalize the estimate. 

You choke. 

The Mandalorian whips around so fast you’re worried he’s going to give the baby whiplash. 

“Forty thousand?!” You shout it louder than you mean to. You’re just in utter disbelief at the amount. He must have made a mistake--there's no way. That was way too much. That can’t be right at all. 

“That's what I said.” The mechanic taps the side of his holopad impatiently.

“Repairs are cheaper on Coruscant.” The Mandalorian snaps out.

“Then feel free to fly back to Coruscant.” 

“But I don’t understand, what exactly is costing that much?” You question anxiously. You clearly needed these repairs if you were to ever end up off this planet and back on the hunt, but where in the galaxy were you supposed to find that many credits?

“Lets see…” he starts scrolling through his holopad, listing off the repairs he’s taken note of for your estimate, “You’ve got a fuel leak, hyperdrive’s got some serious damage, gonna have to be replaced all together, right thruster damage, I assume your not running any higher than 40% efficiency, Got some busted power lines, and you’re gonna need a ton of rewiring, not to mention your reflector shields are damaged. Then we’ve got all the body damage to worry about.” He shakes his head to himself, “S’gonna be a lot of work and like I said, someone went and damaged all my droids so it’s just me now. Damn thugs…” He murmurs the last bit to himself quietly, but it piques your interest. 

“Thugs?” He just looks at you with pure hesitation in his eyes, like he so desperately wants to tell you everything but there's something holding him back. 

“Forty thousand for the repairs. Pay up or find someone else to repair your ship.” He repeats shortly. He goes to turn away, tucking his holopad into a holder on his side. 

“These thugs the reason your prices are so high?” 

He scoffs, “You really think I would be chasing away what little business I get with prices this high by choice?” He shakes his head with a sigh, “A group of spice runners moved in a couple months ago, been terrorizing the whole town since they got here. At first they were just using it as a way to transfer product, but then they got violent. They run the whole town now. You pay their prices, and do as they say, or you end up dead.” 

You settle back on your heels. Straighten out your shoulders and stand tall, resting your hands on your belt and tilt your helmet in his direction, a clever, perfect little plan forming in your brain. 

“How much would repairs be if--let's say...those spice runners weren’t a problem anymore?” You shrug your shoulders nonchalantly and you notice the Mandalorian turn his helmet in your direction. He clearly knows what you're getting at. At the same time the mechanic bursts into laughter, as if that's the funniest joke he's heard since the solstice. 

“If you could find a way to take care of Rrollesh and his gang? On maker, I'll give you your repairs for free!” He laughs his whole way through it, clearly not taking your proposition seriously.

You on the other hand? Looks like you just landed yourself a job. 

“Where can I find them?” 

The mechanic’s laughter fades and he locks eyes with your visor in a questioning manner, only just now realizing you’re being serious. “I mean, you take a quick walk around town you’re sure to run into them at some point. They don’t like strangers. Most days they play sabacc at the cantina towards the end of town.” 

“Of course they do.” You give the mechanic a firm grip on the shoulder, “You get started on those repairs, I’ll take care of the rest.” You give his shoulder a couple pats before turning towards the silent armored man next to you. 

“I’m going to go check things out. You should take the kid to get some real food. He’s probably more sick of ration packs than I am.” You can’t help but let out a small sigh at the realization that getting yourself some good food might have to wait. Just your luck.

“Going alone?” 

“I think I can handle it. Besides, I’m the one who took the job.” You shrug, already turning to make your leave.

“Let me know if you need backup” 

“Sure thing tin can” you call back to him with a dismissive wave of your hand as you continue your way out of the hangar.

--------------

Every step to the cantina was torture. By the time you finally got there and settled into a booth you almost completely forgot why you were there. All you could think about was food. 

Street vendors were tempting you at every corner, their sizzling goods reminding you exactly what you were missing. 

Every wiff you would catch through your helmet made your headspin. Sweet freshly baked pastries, smoky grilled meats, not to mention all kinds of exotic fruits--half of which you’ve never seen before, but looked delicious all the same. It all just made your stomach cry out and your need for real--fresh--delicious food only grow exponentially with every step. 

You settle further into your seat, propping a knee up on the edge of the table. Tapping a finger a couple of times on the top of it where your hand rests. You let out a light huff of air. Hopefully the kid was having a good time right now. You can imagine his little cheeks stuffed to the brim with whatever his metal clad guardian would give him. The way his little hands would probably be already reaching for more before he even finished chewing, that greedy little bug. 

You’re beyond lost in your thoughts you don’t even notice the sudden shadow looming over you. It’s not until the violent BANG of a vibroblade being stabbed threateningly into the top of your table catches your attention and you realize you’re being crowded around. You look at the blade blankly, and slowly follow it up the strong arm of the stranger holding it. 

You lock your visor to the face of one very sizable Trandoshan. A large and gnarly looking scar splitting across his entire sandy scaled face, clouding one of his eyes in its path.

“Mandalorian…” He hisses out, deep and guttural, as a sly smirk breaks out revealing large sharp teeth, “What brings you to my bar?” 

You lean back in the booth, this must be that Rrollesh the mechanic was talking about. And if he wasn't, well you get the feeling he could definitely take you to him. You look slightly to your left, to take note of the various others crowding around you. Five of them, all boxing you into your booth, leaving you no escape. It's an interesting mix of smugglers to say the least. None look nearly as impressive as the clear leader in front of you, but you don’t doubt they would put up a good fight. 

The scarred Trandoshan pulls his blade out from the table, pulling your attention back to him. 

“I like your armor...Beskar goes for a lot these days.” He growls out lowly, pointing his blade in your direction. 

“Always does.” You reply coolly, “Mandalorian steel is one of the most durable materials, and very rare. Nearly impossible to get your hands on.” 

“Then you know why I want yours.” He inches his blade towards one of your pauldrons, close enough so he can press the tip of it against your metal, and it takes every fiber of your very being not to rip his damn arm off right then and there. His smirk grows wider and there's a dark chuckling from his goons next to you, that you choose to ignore. Keeping your visor locked to his eyes, trying to keep your relaxed composure, despite the obvious tension that's building.

“Mine’s in bad shape.” You shrug finally after a moment of silence, “But if you’re interested in Beskar I have a proposition that might interest you.”

“Do you seem like you’re in a position to be making deals right now?” 

“You seem like a smart guy,” you lie, “And I happen to know someone with a full set of Beskar probably worth twice what mine is.” The offer comes out of your mouth before you even realize what you're doing, but you're hoping he takes the bait.

The Trandoshan hums dark and grovely in his throat before silently taking a seat in the booth opposite to you. “Keep going” He encourages. Bingo.

“I’m here on a job, I’m hunting a Mandalorian. He escaped from me on Coruscant, but had to make an emergency landing here after the damage I did to his ship. He’s dangerous. Heavily armed, and in a full suit of freshly forged Beskar. One of the most skilled fighters I’ve ever gone against.” You move to rest your arms on the back of the booth, trying your best to seem as relaxed as possible while you lie straight out of your ass. You’re not even sure what you’re doing yet, just kind of making shit up as you go. 

“What exactly are you asking of me?” He leans forward in his seat squinting at you, still holding his blade.

“If you and your men help me catch my quarry, you can take his armor.” 

“I thought beskar belonged to the Mandalorians? Wouldn’t that be going against your own kind?” 

You shake your head dismissively, “I’m not a Mandalorian. I don’t care what happens to it so long as I get paid for my work.” 

He gives you a disbelieving look with a tilt of his head.

“Stole it off a dead guy.” you say nonchalantly as you notion to your armor with both hands, without moving your arms from their place on the back of the booth.

He lets out a hearty laugh, “I like you” he says waving his blade back in your direction, “I’ll help you catch your Mandalorian.” he nods with a smile, “what's your plan?”

---------------------------

“Mandalorian, you there?”

“Need backup?” His voice crackles through the static of the comm

“Not exactly.” 

“What does that mean?” He asks, suspicious of your ambiguous answer. 

“I found Rrollesh. Well, he found me I guess, we struck a deal.” 

“A deal?” “I told him if he helped me kill you he could have your armor” You confess bluntly.

There's a beat of silence, and you’re almost worried he’s going to hang up on you.

“You what?” He finally asks

“It’s not like it sounds.” You reassure him, but after you’re met with nothing but silence in return you continue, “We made a plan to ambush you tonight--”

“You’re not helping your case.” He cuts you off abruptly. 

“Just listen! We made a plan to ambush you tonight, but what's going to happen instead is we’re going to ambush them. I’m going to turn against them and you’re going to help me take them out.” you sound more confident than you feel explaining your half-baked whim of a plan, but you’re hoping he’ll go along with it. Your only other real option if he decides not to go along with it is to show up guns blazing and hope for the best, which didn’t seem ideal. 

“Don’t you think they’re planning the same thing?” He sounds dubious at best, but the fact he’s not outwardly declining gives you a spark of confidence.

“Oh, I know they are, the difference is they need me to help take you out. They probably plan to kill me after I help kill you. So if we beat them to it, we have nothing to worry about.” You shrug despite him not being able to see it. 

“How many are there?”

“No clue. There were six at the cantina including Rrollesh himself, but he said he’s bringing more.” 

“Where are you planning this ambush?” 

“I told them I would lure you to the middle of town, they're going to hide and try to surround you once you get there. Box you in. The second they make the jump for you, that's when I’ll turn on them.” 

“Should be easy enough.” His words are like honey in your ears, instant relief fills your entire body. 

“My thoughts exactly. Start heading down in three hours, I’ll have to meet back up with Rrollesh and his men and I don’t want to be seen with you until then.” “Copy that.” 

You’re about to turn off the comm and get ready to meet back with Rrollesh, but you hesitate. “Oh, before I forget!” You call out quickly before either of you can disconnect.

“What is it?” 

“Try not to shoot me this time, tin can.” You joke, your smirk almost audible in your voice.

“Try to communicate with me before you jump out from some crates and then maybe we have a deal. No promises though.” You hear his commlink click off the line. You know he was joking back, but something about his wording makes you freeze up. You sit there, alone with the static of your open comm ringing in your ear with the sudden realization. You keep replaying what he just said over and over in your head…

“Try to communicate with me before you jump out from some crates and then maybe we have a deal.” 

“Try to communicate with me…”

“Try to communicate…” 

Somehow, it’s only now that it hits you. This whole time you were blaming everything about what happened on Coruscant on the Mandalorian. This whole time, everything went wrong because of the things he did. Because he was an idiot, because he didn’t know any better. He kept getting in your way because he just couldn’t help but be obnoxious. 

But that wasn’t the case at all. 

You kept getting in each other’s way because neither of you had bothered to communicate. You mistakenly assumed he was the one to speak to the jeweler because you never bothered to ask him. Your bounty escaped through the window because you didn’t tell him what was going on until she already started to escape. You got shot because you didn’t bother to tell him your plan to flank her, and just jumped out in front of his shot. 

What happened on Coruscant was just as much your fault as it was his. And not because you weren’t good enough, or because he was stupid and didn’t know what he was doing, but because the two of you were bad at communicating with each other. You were too busy working against him instead of with him. 

Maker, you were a fool. 

All those insults you slung at him should have also been said to yourself. Now you’re really embarrassed. The realization of this should have come to you way sooner. Were you really so prideful you hadn’t noticed? So cocky in your own abilities, you were blind to your faults? 

No, that's not it at all. In fact, you realize, it’s probably the exact opposite. You struggled immensely every step of the way on that job. You felt so inadequate, so mediocre, so second-rate. In the height of your self consciousness you lashed out at him. You were blinded not by your pride, but by your shame. Your fear that you weren’t good enough, and he would be able to see that, that anyone would be able to see that. 

You feel incredibly guilty now. Down right bad. A sinking in the pit of your belly that almost makes you nauseous. You definitely owe him an apology. Whether or not he wants one, you owe it to him, even if only to clear your own conscience. 

For now though, you’ve got a job to finish. And you’re going to make sure you do a damn good job finishing it. 

-------------------------------------

“Ah! You made it!” Rrollesh calls out to you as you stroll out into the open area of the town where you agreed to meet, “I was starting to suspect you wouldn’t show.” His deep and guttural voice rumbles out in a dark tone as you approach him. 

You glance around him. Only three others are standing about. You tilt your visor at the large scaled man in front of you questioningly, “These are the only men you brought with you? I might as well be taking the Mandalorian on myself.” You scoff

“Oh no, not at all. The others are already stationed and waiting. Don’t you worry.” The threatening tone of his reassurance, followed by the sickly, toothy smile he shoots you, definitely confirms the fact that he is planning on killing you. You pretend not to notice.

“Good. Since these are your fighters, and this is your town, where do you want me?” You hope by giving him the illusion of control he’s less likely to suspect anything coming from you. 

Besides,

You know damn well no matter where he puts you, you’ll end up on top either way. 

“You and Tarsi are going to hole up there and wait for my signal.” He points up to the roof of a building to your right, “I’ll take the other two towards the front so we can close him off.” He points behind you where he intends on hiding out with the other two smugglers. 

You nod in confirmation, and go to make your way to your assigned spot, one of the smugglers trailing close behind you. This Tarsi, you assume, is...unimpressive--to say the least. He’s small, too eager as he jogs next to you to keep up with your pace, and seems far too excited about the prospect of taking down a mandalorian. 

And he won’t stop talking to you. 

You don’t even know about what, you tuned him out almost immediately after he opened his mouth for the first time. You just know he wouldn’t stop making noise. The whole way to your assigned spot, he was blabbing away. The whole time he set up his long range rifle, and adjusted his scope, he was. Still. Talking. 

At one point you notice while you’re settled down and looking out waiting for a signal--or any sign of the Mandalorian, that he’s been continuously scooting himself closer to you until there’s barely a gap between the two of you at all. 

“I just really like that in a woman…,” Were the only words you suddenly catch from him, as you feel his hand on your thigh. 

You shoot a threatening stare right into his eyes through your visor, which were already locked onto you. Only, he doesn’t get the hint. 

“I’m sure you’re just as beautiful under all that armor as you are with it on…” He continues, and his thumb gently runs a small circle on your thigh where his hand rests. 

How long exactly had he been hitting on you before you noticed? And how did he take your complete utter silence as interest? 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything, I’ll take good care of you.” The way his voice drops into a sultry tone, and he starts to slide his hand up higher on your thigh, it's too much. You immediately grab his wrist and forcefully rip it from your leg, nearly crushing it in your grip as you continue to stare daggers at him. 

He winces at the force of it, but somehow, someway, he still doesn’t understand, “You like things rough I see, no problem. I’ll do whatever you want once this is all over. Does the helmet stay on or is there a chance I get to see your beautiful eyes?” 

You practically throw his wrist away from you. The audacity of him, to think you would actually be interested in sleeping with him. You can’t take it anymore, slowly you reach your hands out and gingerly place them on either side of his face. “You want a kiss sweetheart? No problem, I’ll give you a taste of--” You cut him off with a rough twist, and the awfully delightful sound of his neck snapping, causing him to immediately go limp in your arms. You roughly toss his body away from you in disgust. Thank the maker that was finally over. 

You shake your head lightly to yourself to regain your composure, and turn back just in time to see the familiar shine of the Mandalorian as he walks through the seemingly abandoned street. He pauses right in the middle of the road, in the middle of where everyone is hiding out.

There's a moment, a moment of absolute silence, as the armored man stands in the middle of the road unmoving. 

You can practically taste the tension in the air. It’s like time stops. Every moment suspended in mid-air waiting for the drop. 

You start to question whether or not you missed the signal, were they all waiting on you? You didn’t see or hear anything....kriff, what if it happened while you were snapping that guy's neck? 

 Clink. Clink. Clinkclinkclink clink

A metal canister bounces out across the street and rolls to a stop, drawing both the attention of you and the Mandalorian.

The can starts to hiss lightly, before the hiss erupts suddenly into a plume of fog that quickly begins to fill the street. 

That's the signal. 

Just as quickly as fog fills the street, consuming the Mandalorian in it’s haze, smugglers emerge and drop down from their various hiding spots, and with it their shouts and yells as they make a charge for their target.

Blaster fire lights up the fog filled street in smears of color, and you can hear how it ricochets off your accomplice’s beskar. 

You quickly scramble to grab the long range rifle next to you, and switch the setting on your helmet’s hud so you can easily see the heat signatures through the fog. Quickly searching around with your scope you lock on one of the poor souls still emerging from their hiding place. You squeeze the trigger, and fire. 

Your blaster bolt whistles through, lighting up the fog around it as it makes perfect contact with your target, sending them dropping limply to the floor. 

You’re immediately locking onto another target, you fire, direct hit. 

You can hear the clashing below you as the Mandalorian fights on the ground, and you take aim on another target. There's too much going on down there, you don’t feel like you can get a clear shot. Heat signatures are overlapping, and people are moving too quickly. You attempt to take a shot when you think you have an opening, but a blaster bolt gets ricocheted in your direction, causing you to jerk away just as you squeeze the trigger, and you miss. 

You let out a frustrated growl and readjust your hold on the rifle, rolling your shoulder back to loosen up before you take aim. You scan through the fog, through the heat signatures, it’s easy to spot the Mandalorian like this. His beskar makes his heat signature entirely unique. He’s being surrounded by five or six men, all haphazardly lunging at him, trying to overwhelm him with their number alone. 

Quickly you flick on your comm as you aim at one of the men circling behind him.

“Careful on your left.” You warn, just as you pull the trigger, sending your bolt whizzing right over his shoulder and making direct contact with the man behind him, sending him collapsing to the floor. You see the Mandalorian quickly look behind him as the body collapses, then shoots his glace directly to where your shot came from, directly at you. 

He doesn’t have the chance to even think about flicking his comm on before another is making a charge at him. As much as you have a vantage point where you are, you have a need to be there on the floor with him. You’re not a bad shot, but it’s not your strongest skill, and you know you would be much more effective in close combat. 

“I’m coming down, hang tight!” You flick your commlink back off and hop down to the ground beneath you. You keep low, sneaking the best you can through the fog. You’re not sure if anyone has noticed yet, that you’ve turned on them. Best to keep it that way as long as you can. Surely Rrollesh has noticed your absence, but then again, you haven't seen him either. 

You draw your blade, and grip it tight in front of you as you make your way through the fog. You slow your pace and quiet your steps as you begin to come up behind someone, firing their blaster in the Mandalorian’s direction. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve done this, adrenaline rushes through you everytime, your heart pounding as you slowly and carefully sneak up right behind them. It squeezes in your chest when you finally make the lunge for them, clamping a hand over their mouth as you drive your blade deep into them. You let out a deep breath as you rip your blade back out and let their body drop to the floor. 

But there's no time for relief, you hear someone behind you and immediately whip around to see another one of Rrollesh’s men staring you down with their comrades body by your feet. You waste no time gauging their reaction, and quickly rush towards him. He readies up both of his vibroblades and lunges right back at you with pure ferociousness. 

Your blades clash together violently, grinding against each other as sparks fly from the impact. You’re unrelenting in your offense, one powerful jab after another, as you continue to push him back, crowding him with your attacks. He struggles to block each one, not even getting a chance to make an attack on you. The pure force from each hit, forcing him to take several steps back. 

He steps sideways when you make another lunge for him, causing you to swipe nothing but air. You whip around just in time to barely block his oncoming attack. Your blades lock together and you shove him back with as much force as you can muster, sending him stumbling backwards. You waste no time barreling forward, knocking him to the ground, and rushing to pin him down, plunging your blade deep in his chest.

“I should have known…,” You shoot your gaze up at the unmistakable sound of Rrollesh’s deep and guttural voice. He takes a heavy step towards you, his figure transforming from a blurry shadow to a clear image of the hulking Trandoshan before you. “Do you intend to make a fool of me?” He growls out threateningly. 

You rip your blade out from the body beneath you without a word, keeping the gaze of your visor fixed on his. You’re trying to mask how heavy your breathing from the earlier fight, keeping yourself as still as possible as he towers over you. 

“I want both those Mandalorians dead! Kill them both!” He roars through the fog, taking a step back, “I want both their helmets on my wall!” He lets out a dark and throaty laugh, watching you jump to your feet as two of his goons rush for you.

You clash blades with the first one, spinning around to elbow the second right in the face as he tries to grab you from behind. You’re barely able to bring up your vambrance in time to block the first one coming right back at you again full force. His blade runs hot grinding against your beskar, the sparks lighting up your visor in a brilliant display of color. You kick him as hard as you possibly can in the gut, sending him barreling to the ground, only for you to be grabbed roughly from behind, a blade to your throat. 

You struggle to hold the blade back, and try to shake him loose. Roughly jostling left and right to no avail, before finally mustering the strength to haul him over your shoulder. You succeed, but it’s sloppy, the force of it throwing you to the ground next to him. Pure adrenaline pumps through your veins as you swipe at him with a shout of fury from where you are on the floor. He’s frantically crawling backwards away from you, as you continue to furiously swipe at him. 

His partner suddenly lunges on top of you, and makes a jab at you at the same time you quickly roll over in his grasp. His blade plunges into your side, causing you to scream out in pain as you feel the blade shred through your flesh in the exposed portion just beneath where your chest plate ends. You still feel the burning heat of pain radiating from your gushing wound as he rips the blade back out of you.

You struggle in his grasp as he makes another jab for your neck. You’re barely able to roll just enough sideways that he hits the ground next to you. You violently thrash as he slams your pauldron back down into the duracrete beneath you, as you’re straining to reach for your blaster with your non-dominant hand, trying to ignore the searing pain from your fresh wound. 

He lifts up, readying his blade to make the final blow, just as you manage to get a grip on your weapon. 

Hastily you squeeze the trigger just as he comes down full force.

BAM 

He falls limp on top of you, His blade still thrumming wildly as it falls from his grip. You don’t even take a second to breathe as you hear quickening footsteps from above you. 

You swiftly wrestle your arm from underneath the dead body on top of you and tilt your helmet against the floor, just enough to aim at his partner barreling towards you, and fire. 

His body skids to a halt next to you as it falls, and you’re finally able to take a breath. You rest your head back against the ground with a metallic thud as you try to steady your breathing, before hauling the body off of you and straining to get back to your feet with your hand clamped to your injured side, still clutching your blade.

How many more were there? You alone had already taken out eight men, who knows how many the Mandalorian had taken out. This was way more than you were expecting, and you haven’t even gotten to Rrollesh yet. You quickly look down at your hand holding your wound to assess the damage. There's blood, but not too much. Could be worse, you can still fight. 

With your blaster drawn and ready, still in your non-dominant hand, you quickly make your way to the middle of the road where you can hear the clash of the Mandalorian fighting off another enemy.

You make it just in time to see the body drop to the floor, and join the various others scattered around the armored man’s feet. He’s been busy too apparently. 

“Good to see you still standing, shiny.” You quip as you circle around to be back to back with him, scanning the fog for more enemies. 

“Looks like you’re barely able to.” He teases back as the two of you stand ready for any further oncoming attacks. 

“I’ve seen worse.” You shrug, “There can’t be much more of them left.”

You hear Rrollesh’s voice break through the fog, but you don’t see him. 

“I’m sick of playing games.” He bellows out, “This ends now!” You hear the unmistakable clinking of another metal canister bounce onto the road, only this time, as soon as the hissing erupts into another cloud of fog, you’re blinded. 

Your entire vision through the visor is filled with a bright blaring white. You quickly shield your eyes, but find the light isn’t letting up. It takes you a second to feel the hot air as it surrounds you. It wasn’t a flash bomb, no this was definitely a fog--a mist of some kind, but the heat of it was fucking up your visor. 

“What the hell is that?!” You shout quickly struggling to swap the setting on your helmet as you try to recover from the blinding light of it.

“Some kind of thermal screen.” The Mandalorian grunts out, clearly struggling as much as you with the sudden blindness. 

It’s abruptly clear to you now that the two of you were now at a disadvantage. Your thermal scanners now rendered absolutely useless. You were completely blind.

You and the Mandalorian continue your guard, back to back as you slowly circle around just waiting for the attack. 

You hear him before you see him, one of Rrollesh’s goons shouting as he rushes the both of you. Your armored partner clashes with him first, cutting in front of you to block the man’s blade with his vambrace. At the same time, a blaster shot zips through the air and collides with your chest plate, forcing you to take a step back. 

You fire back in the same direction it came blindly, simply hoping for the best. There was no way you could aim properly while blinded like this. You’re barely able to see a foot in front of you. Another slurry of blaster shots get sent your way, knocking against your chest plate and pauldron as the Mandalorian continues to push back against the blade wielder. You take another shot, focusing directly where the last one came from, and praying for a hit. 

There's no way to know for sure until this is all over, but with the grunt you hear, and the clatter of something falling, you're almost positive it hits. While you’re focusing on that, another smuggler jumps out from the fog and onto the back of the Mandalorian, trying to hold him steady so the other can get a clear shot. You hear the struggle behind you and swiftly turn around to help. 

The Mandalorian gives a couple quick elbow jabs to the man holding him in a lock, loosening his grip just enough he can rip him off. At the same time, you ready your blade and make a fierceful jab right into the side of the other man, causing him to double over and clutch his side in pain. Which leaves him wide open for you to deliver the finishing blow. His body hits the ground at the same time you hear the Mandalorian fire off two blaster shots, followed by the thud of another body. The deadly combination of you both made you feel unstoppable. Even with your injury, there was no doubt in your mind the two of you were walking away from this. 

You resume your defensive position, back to back, standing ready for any further attacks.

But no one comes. 

Silence fills the street again, revealing just how heavy your breathing is after all of this fighting and your injury. You feel sweaty under your helmet, your hair sticking to your face, while you focus on the empty fog in front of you. 

A sudden bone chilling, angered roar rips through the fog.

“I’ll kill you!” Rrollesh roars out in pure fury, “I’ll kill you myself! Tear you limb from limb! Make you suffer! Beg for me to end it!” You can almost feel the vibration from his powerful growl as it echoes through the street surrounding you. It feels like it’s coming from all around you all at once, leaving you unable to pin his exact direction. 

He continues to growl out angrily, animalistic huffs of pure, raw rage. You think he's circling the both of you. Like a predator stalking its prey. Waiting for his moment to strike. Or maybe, he was building himself up, letting the rage boil up inside of him, working himself up to the point of no return. 

You notice something out of your peripheral, and you instinctively quickly move to dodge out of the way. Just in time for a hulking, mass of metal to come slicing through the fog and collide with the ground with an ear splitting clang. 

Rrollesh roars out as he lifts the weapon again, swinging back at you full force. You’re just able to move back enough for it to just barely miss your chest plate by a hair's width. Too close for comfort. The weapon was brutal, the biggest vibroaxe you had ever seen. The sheer mass of it alone was enough to spark fear in the hearts of many, combined with its gnarled edges, it felt like a weapon of nightmares. The brute strength alone needed to wield it seemed only appropriate for the towering reptilian before you. 

You keep moving back with every one of his powerful swings, dodging becomes more and more difficult with your wound seering in pain with every movement. The Mandalorian fires his blaster at Rrollesh, but despite his size, and the insanity of the weapon he's holding, Rrollesh spins, bringing the flat of the axe up to block the oncoming bolt. How was he so quick? It seems impossible. 

With his attention now turned toward your partner, the hulking Trandoshan makes a charge towards the Mandalorian, seeming to block his oncoming blaster fire with ease. He makes several wide swings, the Mandalorian barely able to dodge himself despite the lack of injury on his part. With every swing Rrollesh lets out a bone chilling growl while he advances on the Mandalorian. 

You attempt to intervene, rushing the absolute mammoth before you, and driving your blade deep in his vulnerable side, left exposed from his wide swings. He barely reacts, and you panic when you attempt to drive it out, only to find your blade is stuck within his tough flesh.

You quickly abandon your blade, and lurch back creating as much space between the two of you as you can. He slowly turns towards you, his scarred eye burning a hole through you, as he snarls, baring his incredible sharp teeth. You think he’s going to make another swing at you, try to bring you to the ground, but he surprises both you and the Mandalorian when he suddenly swings back around bringing his blade down full force on the chrome beskar. 

There’s a terrifying display of color as sparks nearly blind you when the axe makes contact with the beskar. The pure force from the blow sends the Mandalorian flying backwards with a wrecked grunt. You know the power from it had to have hurt, and bad. Probably knocked all of the air from his lungs, and made his head spin. Perhaps he was even knocked unconscious. 

And when he doesn’t get up from the ground, you know you’re right.

Rrollesh wastes no time advancing on him, his intention to finish the job is clear as he stomps over to the weak body of the armored man on the floor. You quickly move to stop him, firing your blaster as rapidly as you can haphazardly, even if only to serve as a distraction long enough for your partner to recover--and move. Quickly. 

Rrollesh turns back to face you, and lets his nightmare of a weapon rest on the ground, dragging it behind him as he rapidly advances towards you. You’ve seen a lot in your time travelling through the galaxy, you’ve experienced the worst of the worst. Hardly anything phases you anymore.

But this?

Rrollesh, and his imposing figure barrelling towards you with such determination--such speed--pure rage apparent in his eyes--as you hauls that massive, hulking, terror of an axe behind him? 

You feel fear. 

Not adrenaline, not the rush of battle--

But for the first time in a long time, you feel pure, bone chilling terror pouring through your veins. 

You don’t even have time to process the ice you feel creeping down your spine as you attempt to fire more rounds at him. Which of course, he manages to block with ease. Just when he gets within distance of you, he swings at you. You manage to dodge, but not quick enough, his swing clips your hand, sending your blaster skittering across the street, and a searing pain shooting through the entirety of your arm, sending you to your knees, clutching your hand in absolute agony. 

You quickly shoot a glance behind the man towering over you. The Mandalorian was still on the floor, but he’s moving. Groaning as he tries to shakily pick himself up from the floor. 

But you shouldn’t have done that.

Because it draws the attention of Rrollesh, who quickly abandons you when he’s reminded of his task to finish him off. Before you can even shout to warn your partner of the impending attack, Rrollesh is already hauling his massive axe into the air. 

Without thinking--without even realizing it, you jump to your feet and activate your whipcord thrower, sending a line of fibercord wrapping around the powerful weapon in Rrollesh’s grasp. You struggle to keep your hold on it, the brute strength from it’s wielder causing your heels to drag lightly beneath you.

He glances at you over his shoulder with an irritated growl and yanks his axe to the side with such a force, it sends you flying forward, and skidding across the duracrete road beneath you. He swings in the opposite direction, dragging you with it as you try your best to keep your hold. You struggle to hold your vambrace steady long enough that you can hit the button.

But as soon as you do, an electric current is suddenly ripping down the length of your fibercord, lighting up around both you and Rrollesh as the bolts of electricity consume his hulking metal axe. He lets out a deafening roar of pain as he releases the weapon, sending it clattering to the ground. You quickly yank it away from him, pulling it far out of his reach.

In a blind fit of rage, Rrollesh goes to grab at the Mandalorian despite not having a weapon, needing some release for his boiling anger. But instead, he’s met with a burst of red hot flame from the mandalorians built in flame thrower. 

Rrollesh stumbles back from the heat, bringing his arms up to shield his face. Leaving him completely distracted and totally exposed. This is your chance. Despite your throbbing pain, you muster up every ounce of your strength to shakily get to your feet, grab your blaster, and quickly come right up behind him. Readying your blaster to fire, once, twice, three times in the back of his scaled head. 

He collapses to the floor with a powerful thud. 

You still have your blaster up as you stand there, trying to steady your breathing. You let your arm drop limply to your side with a deep exhale. It was finally over. You look over to the Mandalorian still on the ground in front of you, his visor fixed to Rrollesh’s dead body as his chest heaves, breathing just as heavy as you. 

You walk over to him, holstering your blaster and clutching your injured side. You hold your free arm out to him, which he takes, and you help haul him up from the floor. 

“See? I told you it would be easy.” You give his shoulder a playful whack as you let out a light chuckle.

He just locks his visor to yours for a second, before dejectedly shaking his head at your antics. 

-------------------------------------------

“Well would you look at that? You actually made it out alive.” Is how the mechanic decides to welcome you back as you and the Mandalorian enter the hangar. 

“How are the repairs coming?” You ask as you approach him.

“They’re done already. Got it done a bit quicker than I thought.” He nods, before looking you up and down, clearly noticing the way you're gripping your side, “You take care of Rrollesh?”

You fish out the credits you pocketed from Rrollesh’s body earlier, and toss them at the mechanic. He catches the hefty bag in pure disbelief. 

“Think those belong to you.” You nod your helmet towards him. He pauses, staring at you for a moment, before quickly opening up the bag and nearly gasping at the amount of credits inside.

“Thank you.” He says finally, hooking the bag onto his belt. “I owe you--this whole town owes you. You’ve done us a huge favor.” You can feel the sincerity in his voice.

“That enough to cover our repairs?” You tease, tilting your helmet to the side. 

“And then some.” He laughs nodding, “You’re lucky I didn’t charge you extra for having to watch that little womp rat.” He notions in the direction of the ship with a tilt of his head. 

You let out a laugh despite the pain from your injury, “Thank you, I know first hand what a pain he can be.” 

“He was good actually. Let him run around the hangar for a bit and he’s been sleeping peacefully ever since.” The mechanic crosses his arms in front of his chest, “Next time you find yourself in this sector, stop by. I’ll give you a tune up on me.” 

The Mandalorian speaks up this time as he passes you to board the ship, “I’ll hold you to that.” And then he’s already up the ramp and you and the mechanic watch as he disappears into the hull. 

“Until next time.” You give the mechanic a final nod before you head up the ramp yourself, “And hey, get yourself some new droids, you deserve it!” You exchange a wave before closing the ramp to the ship. 

It doesn’t take long before you feel the ship rumble to life beneath you as you grab yourself a medkit. You situate yourself on a crate, and begin working at removing your armor as the ship takes off into the familiar confines of space. 

By the time you finish applying a healthy dose of bacta, and are working to wrap a thick bandage around your middle, the Mandalorian has already made the jump into hyperspace, and is descending the ladder of the cockpit to join you in the hull. 

He doesn’t acknowledge you at all as he makes his way to the alcove and opens the compartment to check on the kid. You barely make a glance at him, too busy tending to your own wounds as he scoops the sleeping child up into his arms. 

“Shouldn’t wake him” You warn, not lifting your gaze from your work as you fasten your bandages. He practically ignores you, not saying anything as he gives Grogu a light stroke to his forehead, drawing out the smallest of coos from the sleepy bundle. The Mandalorian is careful as he moves to take a seat on a crate opposite from you, cradling the child in his arms. 

It was amazing to you, the striking contrast of the powerful bounty hunter, and how soft he was for this child. He clearly cared deeply for the little thing, a vulnerability you never would have expected. 

“How are your wounds?” The Mandalorian asks quietly, lifting his gaze from the child to address you. 

“Nothing some bacta can’t fix. Like I said, I’ve seen worse.” You shrug as you readjust your undershirt.

“Good.” Is all he says in return, and fixes his gaze back on the child. 

You watch the two of them, unabashedly. Nearly enjoying the silence after today. But then you remember the realization you had earlier before the fight.

“Thanks for helping me with the job.” You finally speak out, rolling your head back to release some of the tension in your neck, “couldn’t have done it without you.” You admit quietly. 

“And uh…” You start, and he lifts his helmet again, tilting his visor slightly as he waits for you to finish, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” His voice is quiet, clearly trying not to wake the child. 

“For how I acted back on Coruscant.” 

“It’s fine.” He dismisses you, before you even get the chance to elaborate. This clearly wasn’t bothering him as much as it was bothering you. 

“It’s not fine.” You give him a stern look, “We accepted the job together, I should have been working with you not against you. And I definitely shouldn’t have put it all on you when things went south.” He looks back up to you, but doesn’t say anything. What could he even really say? 

“That was a tough job for me...,” You continue after a long silence between the two of you , “And I let my own insecurities get the best of me. So I’m sorry. I-I havent…,” You hesitate, taking a moment to figure out how you want to word this, “...It’s been awhile since I’ve worked with anyone else so try to bear with me while I get back into the swing of things.” 

The Mandalorian doesn’t say anything at first. He stands and gently puts the child back into his hammock in the alcove and shuts the door. You honestly don’t think he’s going to say anything, just leave your sincerity hanging in the air. 

“I’m surprised by your insecurity.” He surprises you when he does speak. Not only because he spoke, but because that's definitely not at all the response you were expecting. 

“What do you mean?” You ask, tilting your head at him confused by his odd response. 

“You said you let your insecurities get the best of you, I'm surprised. What are you insecure about?” He settles back down in his previous spot on the crate opposite to you, his visor settling right on your gaze.

You hesitate, you're not sure you're ready to divulge such sensitive information to a man who, before today, you couldn’t stand to be around. Something in you decides you owe it to him, an explanation for your behavior, it's part of your apology. 

“About being a good hunter.” You finally admit after far too long. And he just tilts his helmet at you, an unspoken urge for you to explain further.

“I only got into the business a few years ago.” You confess, “I’m constantly worried I’m not good enough for the job.” 

“You had a commission price double what mine was for the same quarry, and you worry you’re not good enough?” He sounds genuinely curious, not like he’s judging at all, and honestly you're thankful for it.

“That's just it. I…” You trail off again and scan the floor as you search for your words. How much do you want to divulge here exactly? You take a deep breath before starting again, “My husband, he's the one who taught me everything I know. He’s the reason I got into the guild. I had never even been off the surface of my home planet before him.” You explain, avoiding eye contact with his visor, which is still locked on you intently as you speak, “And he-- now he was a good hunter. He already had a reputation, I was just sort of...in the shadow of it. I get the good commissions because of his reputation, because of his skill.” You sigh, and finally work up the courage to look back at his visor, “I guess I’m just worried I’m just simply riding his success instead of living up to it.” 

You feel so awkward, talking about this. It feels strange, unnatural. Especially with not being able to see the face of the Mandalorian in front of you. You can’t gauge his reactions at all, and it only works to make you more nervous as you spill your feelings out to him.

“With how you fought today I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

It’s such a small thing, his response. Just one sentence, one short simple sentence. But somehow, it struck you. It catches you off guard how much that one, simple sentence actually means to you. How could he have possibly known the perfect thing to say to you, when you didn’t even know it yourself? It was somehow perfectly reassuring without being belittling. There's so much to unpack, not only is he saying he thinks you fought well today, but that you fought well enough you were deserving of your status within the guild, even without your husband's presence. 

And maybe--maybe it’s not actually that deep. Maybe you’re simply putting your own meaning into his words where there isn’t any meaning at all, but stars, regardless if that's the case or not, that sentence means everything to you right now. 

You suddenly realize you’ve been staring at him dumbly in silence this whole time. You quickly try to compose yourself, clearing your throat and averting your gaze. 

“Thank you.” You finally muster out, trying to play it cool. He just nods. 

“Oh, before I forget.” He gets up to grab his go-bag, the one he was carrying the child in earlier, “Here, this is for you.” He rummages in the bag for a moment and pulls out some kind of wrapped paper bundle, handing it to you. 

You take it from him hesitantly and utterly confused. You carefully begin to unwrap the paper, and gasp at the sight you reveal. 

It’s food, real--honest to maker food. 

Some kind of fried pastries, it definitely wasn’t fresh anymore, but stars, did it look delicious regardless. 

“The kid liked those best” He says casually, like he didn’t just give you the most perfect gift you could have ever asked for.

But that's just it, you didn’t ask for this. How did he know how badly you had been craving this all kriffing day? This is the one thing you’ve been wanting more than anything else since you landed on Utrost, and he just handed it to you, wrapped up, as a gift. Because the kid liked it best? 

Maybe he really had no idea, just bought it on a whim and it just happened to be the perfect gift. Just like he just happened to know the perfect thing to say to you about feeling insecure. You feel like you’re about to lose your mind. Who the hell was this guy? 

“Thank you.” Is all you can manage once again. You feel like a fool struggling this much over some street food. 

He simply nods at you before he’s taking his leave to the cockpit, leaving you alone once again in the hull of the ship to indulge in your food in peace. 

The second you take a bite, pure bliss radiates to every inch of your body. You nearly groan at how absolutely fantastic it tastes, and it's no surprise to you that this was the kids favorite. Maker, you can only imagine how much better it would have tasted fresh. Maybe it’s because this was the first bite of something other than a ration pack you’ve had in weeks, but you swear, this was the best thing you had ever tasted in the galaxy. 

Maybe partnering up with this Mandalorian wasn’t such a bad idea after all.  **** Previous - MASTER - Next

[helaintoloki]

Three’s Company

pairing: Ben Hargreeves x reader

warnings: tons of fluff, dad!ben

a/n: i had two requests for this prompt as well as for some dad!ben content so i combined them together. also his daughter is named after the french feminist renaissance author & poet Christine de Pizan bc i feel like he’d name his child after someone important in literature

* #10: building gingerbread houses // taken from this prompt list

The sound of Christmas music drifts through the hallways of your home accompanied by the smell of freshly baked gingerbread as you delicately cut the slices into your desired shapes, looking towards the opened Pinterest app on your phone every now and then to reassure that you’re properly following the directions. It’s your first time using such a recipe and you want to make sure you do it just right, otherwise a whole afternoon’s worth of work will be wasted. Sitting across the way from you with a glass of milk and a plate of discarded pieces of reject cookies is your four year old daughter Christine, her gaze permanently glued to the window as she waits for the arrival of her father. Ben had promised a night of family fun, and the young girl intended to make sure he saw it through.

“When’s daddy coming home?” She asks with a purse of her lips, prompting a smile from you as the little face she makes is the exact same one that your husband makes (a face reserved mostly for his brothers).

“Any minute now,” you reassure her, “he went with Uncle Diego to help grandma pick out a Christmas tree.”

“Is Uncle Diego coming?” Christine asks, nearly bouncing out of her seat with excitement.

“Not today,” you say only for her to deflate with a frown, “but he’s coming over on Christmas to spend the day with us, and he’s bringing Lila.”

Christine’s head peeks up curiously at the mention of her Uncle’s new girlfriend, but she doesn’t say anything other than, “I like Lila. She’s pretty.”

“She certainly is,” you nod in agreement, deciding to leave out the part where you mention that she also packs a pretty hard punch. Your jaw still aches when you think about your first encounter with the woman, but you were a firm believer in second chances, so you decide to let bygones be bygones.

The sound of keys jingling in the doorway pulls both of your gazes towards the living room door where Ben emerges, fresh snow coating his jacket and dropping onto the welcome mat below him as he kicks off his shoes with a tired groan. However, the sight of Christine scrambling down from her seat and rushing towards him quickly brings a smile to his face as he crouches down and catches her in his arms.

“Hey, kiddo!” He exclaims, pressing dozens of kisses to the crown of her head and beaming with pride at the giggles the act elicits from her. “Gosh, you smell like gingerbread.”

“Mommy let me eat the leftovers,” she boasts proudly, draping her arms around her father’s neck as he carries her back into the kitchen.

“Is that so?” He asks with an amused smile, his eyes softening when he reaches you at the counter. “Well, hello my gorgeous wife.”

“Hello handsome husband,” you reply with a giggle, smiling as he captures your lips in a sweetly chaste kiss. You’ve been married for six years, but you’ve never really quite moved out of the honeymoon phase— not that you’re complaining. “How was it?”

“It was good. Mom got the tree she wanted and we got a pretty good deal with the price. God, you have no idea how great it is seeing her so happy. Dad never let her do anything, but now that he’s gone...”

“I can’t wait to see how she decorates the house,” you say with a small smile. Ben’s love for his mother never fails to warm your heart.

“We’re going over Christmas Eve, then everyone will come here for Christmas Day,” he explains. “I didn’t want to overwhelm her, and we all agreed mom deserves a day off where she can just relax and have fun with the rest of us.”

“Grace is a sweetheart, she deserves it.”

Christine squirming in Ben’s arms reminds you both of her presence, and with knowing looks shared between the two of you Ben carries her out into the dining room to clear off the table and make space for your festivities.

“I’m going to build the bestest gingerbread house,” Christine brags only for Ben to raise a brow at her.

“Wait a minute, I thought I was going to build the bestest gingerbread house,” he says, feigning mock surprise with a frown. Christine giggles.

“It’s okay daddy, you can help me make mine.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Ben seats your daughter in her designated chair while you set out the supplies to make your houses; bowls of gumdrops, peppermints, and various holiday candies line the table alongside your gingerbread pieces and tubes of frosting. Christine looks on at the display with excitement, wriggling around in her seat impatiently as Ben carefully ties her hair up and out of the way in order to avoid a mess.

“Okay, I think that’s everything,” you say, rolling up the sleeves of your sweater and securing your apron before seating yourself across the way from your husband and daughter. “I see you’ve decided to tag team me.”

“It’s nothing personal,” Ben says with a shrug, laughing at the way in which you roll your eyes.

“I spent nine months carrying my daughter around only for her to come out as a daddy’s girl.”

“It’s okay, honey, I’m sure you’ll get the next one,” he jokes in response, helping Christine frost the walls of her house to keep them in place.

“Guess we’ll have to wait another nine months and see,” you shrug nonchalantly, stealing a quick glance at your husband immediately after.

“Yep,” he replies, only half paying attention to your statement in the moment as he’s too focused on attaching the gumdrop buttons to his gingerbread man. A beat passes before the words finally register in his mind, and much to Christine’s dismay the gingerbread house is knocked over by his sudden movements. His eyes are wide, head shooting up to look at you, actions causing the table to shake slightly.

“Dad!”

“Wait, what?” He breathes out, eyes already welling with tears.

“Oh, yeah, did I not tell you? I’m pregnant,” you reply as casually as possible, but you’re unable to hold back the large grin that spreads across your face. Ben is on you in an instant, showering you with kisses as you laugh before pulling both you and Christine into the tightest family hug you’ve ever had. Your daughter, too young to understand what’s going on in the moment, is just happy to be included.

The gingerbread houses are momentarily forgotten as your little family rejoices in the news of a new member. By this time next year you’ll have a new baking buddy, and Ben couldn’t ask for anything better than that.

[jaeminscoffee]

Lo contrario al amor | q. kn; s. jn

Lo contrario al amor- The opposite of love.

Pairing- Seo Johnny x reader x Qian Kun

Genre- Smut.

Word count- 4.14k

Warnings- threesome, sexual themes followed, stripper!reader au, richceo!kun and Johnny au, overstimulation, horrible depiction of how a strip club works, light spanking, dirty talking, praise kink, honestly a filth, why am i even bothering with the warnings-, pet names: princess, doll, slut, baby girl. Sir kink. Also kinda rushed because I'm an idiot (actually, it's cause i wrote this a day before my sociology exam so..-)

Synopsis- The way they looked at you seemed close enough to love. You thought it looked quite the opposite of love. And your definition of the opposite of love was lust.

Type- Requested! I'm sorry this took long! I really had to push myself to write this oskekke

Raven's up next, you've got 2 minutes!" Jacob screamed in the changing room where you all lined up according to who's going up the stage next, all dolled up, the actual costumes underneath the loose shirts handed to you for coverage until the performance. 

"Raven's not performing today. She's got a few other works to do"

Stripper. Not many are usually proud of that line of profession. But you thought nothing wrong of it. You were proud to blurt out "I work at  N-WV club as a part time stripper and part time server". You loved dancing and you loved the attention you got, you thought it was great. And you got paid handsomely too so that's a plus one. 

What made you love your job further more than you already loved it was the regulars you had during your days of performance. 

The thing you liked about your club was they never reveal personal identity. You each had a code name of your own. You were given the name Raven by the audience due to your dark tresses and the variety of black outfits you'd worn and performed and not to mention, absolutely rocked in. Another reason to love your work. Safe identity with no harms to personal life whatsoever. 

Hel and Hades. You'd ridiculed the names when you first heard them from your co-worker. "Which idiots would name themselves after the vikings and the death god??" you'd mocked until you actually met the owners of the names. 

Always sat the farthest away from the stage but dead in the middle which showcased the entirety of the stage in one screen was the table labelled by their names. Two young sat always adorned in a suit, the coat of the tux shrugged off their body with it loosely hanging over their shoulder, the tie tugged loose with the collar button undone and the sleeves rolled up to their elbow. 

One, Hades, the male with dark brown hair that was swept neatly to the side with a few strands resting freely on the forehead. Seemingly a little more built than the other, eyes stoic with focus on each and every one of your moves with the bottom of his perfectly shaped lips between his teeth. His gaze never failed to make you shudder. The only way to explain would be deadly. 

The other one, Hel. He wasn't all that bad himself. Far from bad. Faded turquoise hair tousled carelessly at the crown of his head perfectly portrayed his exhaustion at work. But that only added as a charm to him as his messed up hair gave him an ethereal look. He'd always have his arms folded over his chest. Almost the same build as the other. A smirk played on his lips each time you'd discard a material from your body and then another. The look was still the same as deadly as Hades'. A little softer and subtle ton of sin hid under his angelic features. Intoxicating would be the right word for him.

You turn towards the owner of the club just as you hook in your hanging diamond earring, fixing the rhinestone choker "What other works?" you ask confused and a little taken aback at the same time. Mr. Kim (who'd asked you on multiple occasions to just call him Doyoung) was the organized and no 'last minute' booking type of guy. If someone wanted him to do something for them they'd have to let him know that at least a week or two prior. Whether it came to booking a private performance, or booking a VIP seat. It had to be done within a week before the actual work. 

"Come with me." he replied calmly with his hands dug into the pockets of his formal jeans. 

 "Yeah, let me just get my masquerade mask-" 

"Leave it behind". You stand in place, still with the motions of rush still going on around you. Leave the mask behind? That'd reveal part of your identity and that definitely wasn't a part of the club. "Huh?"

"It's a private booking, you don't need the mask, doll" Doyoung exclaimed as though he hadn't just failed to let you know of the private booking before the day. "I don't have any private performances scheduled for today, Doyoung" 

"Now you have, darling. I'm sorry but they're important to this club. And to me." with that he whipped his head towards the exit door before nodding at you to follow behind him.

You quickly discard the loose shirt, opting to wear a robe around your outfit before you follow behind him through the dimly lit, sketchy yet posh passage across the club to the section where tiny cabins were situated. 

You jog slightly to catch up with his long strides while clutching onto the rope of your robe. "Who are they? The oh so important people?" you ask from behind him. 

"Mr. Seo and Mr.Qian." 

"Who?" you inquire, face contorted in confusion at the unfamiliar names. "Let's say, You'll see once we get there." he replied, taking a sharp turn towards the more isolated regions of the club. 

You say nothing in reply, silently following him a few more steps before he comes to an abrupt halt in front of one the cabins at the end of the hallway. He knocked twice on the door, reaching out to the door knob twisting it to unlock the door. 

Names of gods of hell was a smart choice.

 There sat inside the room were the two regulars, looking absolutely sinister in clothing as simple as formal work wear. " Ms. Y/ln at your service just as you asked for" Doyoung spoke up first after stepping into the room. Expecting him to call you by your work name, you were once again taken aback at how he regarded you with your last name but did nothing to correct him, instead chose to stand silently beside him.

' Must be important enough to break his own club rules. '

"We'll take it from here, Thanks Doyoung" smiled the brown haired lad, Hades. 

"My pleasure, Johnny" Doyoung nodded at the other in acknowledgment of his presence before turning back facing you, smiling at you with a tilt of his head and a pat at your robe clad shoulder and headed towards the door with that, exiting the room and leaving you in the closed space with the two men. 

You hear the click of the lock from behind you, only now lifting your gaze from the ground as you shift your weight from one feet to another, looking at one male then the other. Your clothing does nothing to help you feel secure under their eyes, strong enough to make you feel bare with two layers of clothing on your body. Weird how you, the confident on stage with at least 50 or more pairs of eyes on you, was now feeling conscious of yourself in front of just two pairs of eyes. 

"Hi, I'm Raven-" you start, finally shaking off the nervousness to get your job started and done with, something about both looking at you as though they'd devour you whole having you shaking the slightest. 

"Y/n, that's your name, hm?" the one, Johnny, or so called by Doyoung, spoke up, interrupting your mid sentence as the blue haired just leaned forward in his seat, his elbows resting lazily on his knees, absolutely loving the way you were taken aback, the same everyday smirk displayed on his feature. 

"Yes. But here in this club, we go by our code names. Please refer to me as Raven, Sir." you reply, stepping out of daze as you tried keeping your tone as polite as possible. "In this room we go by our real names, doll" he finally spoke up, the one beside Johnny. "I'm Kun. That's Johnny. There, we all know each other's names now" Kun, spoke in a smug tone, eyes darkening shades as they roam around your figure. 

"But sir, that's against the rules of our club" you try explaining, only after scoffing in your mind as you recalled back to how the owner himself went against the rule. "Here, Inside these four walls, the rules to be followed are only to be set by us, that's what we paid for, princess" Johnny beat Kun to speaking up. 

"Yes, sir" you reply after a moment of silence as the two males shifted into a more comfortable position on the leather couch. You stood awkwardly beside the pole in the middle of the room, fumbling with the knot at the center of your stomach, trying so hard not to keep a continuous eye contact with them. 

Dangit. What's it with me today? 

"So, will you put on a show for us now or do we have to wait a little more?" Kun asked with his eyebrows raised. 

"Ah! Yes." you reply quick, making fast steps forward towards the corner of the room where the speaker with a remote on top was situated. You pick up the controller and pressed play, a sensual tune immediately vibrating through the speakers, filling the silent room with the tune. You place the controller back on top of the speaker, inhaling sharply before getting into the mood, shaking off all previous nervousness, instead replacing it with a seductional look and a smirk on your face. 

You run your fingers through your hair, intentionally messing it up to make you look even appealing than you already did. You turn towards the front, walking one leg crossing the other towards the pole, circling it, with just your fingers grazing the cold metal as you stare at them one after the other enough to have them hooked at your doings. 

You give them a wink before lifting a leg up with a push, the other rooted at the base of the pole as you clutch tightly onto the pole for balance while your body twirled around the metal, the robe still on.

You continue playing around the pole, ending the pole segment with a drop down to the ground in a rather seductive way. The tune passed half of the song, changing into a much faster beat to which you finally hooked your fingers onto the knot hiding your black lace dress under, slowly undoing it while their gazes got much harder. Your eyes travel lower on both of their bodies, a soft dent forming over the blue jeans making you feel proud. 

The robe now off, you felt bare than ever with just a black lingerie now adorning your body, but you kept going. You stand dead in front of them as they lean back in their seat. 

You move to the beats, feeling yourself finally let loose as the cockiness of all the attention on you got to your head. 

Lost in beats, you let out a yelp of surprise when you feel your wrist being tugged at, making you stumble steps and land onto Johnny's lap. You stare wide eyed at him as the domineering aura he had made you feel small under his gaze. You grip onto his shoulder for support to keep your bottom half from touching his muscled up ones. "Keep going with the performance, darling" and so you did. 

You'd given lap dances before. But that was at a frat party which was forced and half hearted as it was a stupid dare posed by one your friends. So you were a little nervous as the undying want of making them captivated by you strong enough to overpower the nervousness as you lower yourself and get back to moving to the beats. On Johnny's lap this time around. 

Grinding your hips against the latters, you see from your peripheral Kun's head thrown back as he kneaded himself through the material of his jeans, the sight making you whimper softly as you grind harder against Johnny, earning a groan from him. 

The song comes to an end slowly, the beats slowing down the same way your movements did, completely coming to a halt once the music stopped. You were panting slightly, palms resting against his built chest (you can literally feel the indents under your hands) when you feel yourself being lifted, in a swift motion over from Johnny's lap to Kun's with your back facing his front. 

You look up after having your eyes closed in surprise at the sudden motion only to have Johnny close the space between the two of you, Kun's hands finding their way around your waist. Face buried in your neck. The initial shock of a really good looking guy kissing you while the other played with the skin of your neck washed over your body with a jolt. 

Yes, you're loving the feeling. Having the attention of two absolute sinful men, not to mention, good looking ones was heaven. There's no denying that you felt attracted to them. But it went against your club rules, and most definitely against your morals. So you shake off Johnny, placing your hands between your bodies to create some space between the two of you, "I can't -we can't, if Doyoung finds out I'll lose my job, i can't afford that-" you explain as you cower further into Kun's lap at Johnny's strong gaze, feeling like you've just disappointed him. "Then so be it. You can work for us." he leaned in once again, only to be stopped by you for the second time. "No, we shouldn't-"

"No one gets to know what happens inside these four walls and you get to keep your job, how about that?" Kun offered, mumbling into your neck which had you screwing your eye shut at the sensation, "But this is wrong" you try rationalising. 

"Oh darling this is wrong in all the right ways, don't worry" and with that you let yourself relax onto the man's body, Johnny forcing himself onto you once he heard you heave out a tiny 'okay'.

One hand holding you still against him, Kun let his other hand travel up while Johnny pressed his lips against yours in a teeth clashing kiss, not wasting a second to bite down onto your lower lip to have access into your mouth. You groan out at the feeling of hands all over your body as Kun kneaded your breast, lips traveling up your neck, to your ear lobe which be nibbled on, while giving most of his attention in playing with your breast.

Eyes screwed shut, your body fall limp on top of Kun's body the moment Johnny cupped your heat through the material of your lingerie, the only thought you had being 'fuck morals' when this is how good they're making you without even directly giving attention to the parts you need them the most. Johnny pulled away from your lips, a thin trail of saliva still keeping you connected as he applied pressure on the bundle of nerves through the material of your clothing, well, barely covering clothing.

"You have no idea how long we've waited for this, baby girl." Kun whispered against your hair while shifting his attention to the unattended boob. 

You jerk forward when Johnny enters the clothing, now touching you bare. The feeling of his cold fingers against your sex had your head roll back and rest against Kun's shoulder. "That feels good, right baby?" Johnny inquires while using his thumb to apply pressure on your clit, drawing small circles on the swollen bud the same time Kun pinched the sensitive bud of your chest, making you able to only nod your head at the lads question, "Words, baby. Use your words"

The expression on Johnny's face had you thinking better than wanting to disobey him, "Yes!" you moan out at the increase of speed in stimulation as Johnny's other hand helped keep your legs apart. "Yes what, doll?" 

"Yes, s-sir.. " you mewl, feeling a familiar knot form at the bottom of your stomach making your face contort into an expression of pure bliss. "There we go" he cooed, moving his attention from your clit to the entrance, plunging two fingers in straight into the wetness as your sleek wall gave enough access to do so, immediately setting a fast pace, coaxing you to your first high with a shudder in your body.  Johnny kept his fingers moving to help ride out your high while you feel Kun shift behind you, "My turn" 

You feel yourself being lifted off of his lap and placed on the couch. You hiss when you feel Johnny remove his fingers from within you and into his mouth, licking your juice clean off his fingers. But you don't get much time to intake the sight as you feel soft muscles working their way on your now sensitive core. You look down to see Kun buried between your legs. You were probably too dazed to notice him drag your lingerie bottom down and place himself there. 

You whimper as he circled his tongue over your clit while Johnny took his place beside you, kneading himself the same way Kun was a few moments ago. You close your eyes tight at the feeling of Kun's mouth working wonders at your core, a mixture of moans and curses leaving your mouth, "You taste so fucking sweet, baby" the vibrations of his voice sent shocks of pleasure down your core, added to that a finger being inserted into the the messy hole triggered your second high,

 "Kun oh!-"

The sounds of him lapping at your juices made your skin heat up, blood rushing up your cheeks while you choke out a sob at the faint pain you're now feeling at the continuous stimulation. 

"You did so well, baby" Johnny hushes you while Kun still kept going. Johnny caressed your hair, trying to distract you from the aftermath of being overstimulated. 

The feeling being too overwhelming, you finally close your legs over Kun's head, making him come to a halt as he leaned back from his kneeling position. The lighting in the room highlighted the wetness on his chin and lips as you finally got some time to catch your breath.

"Who's going first?" Kun inquired, looking more at Johnny than you while wiping the residue using the back of his hands. Instead of considering giving a reply, Johnny looked at you with tilt in his head and a smirk on his face while you shy away from their gaze. "she'll take both of us like the little slut she is, isn't that right baby?" he asked, a probably rhetorical question while his gaze stayed hard. At the lack of response from your side, Kun took a step forward, bending down slightly, reaching out to clutch your face a soft yet firm grip, forcing you to look at him. 

"Aren't you going to answer him, doll?" 

"Yes, Johnny." you answer, mind a little clouded to think straight but still managed to form coherent sentences, enough to give a proper reply. "The pleasure really got to you, huh baby?" Johnny inquired, standing up while working on undoing his belt, "It's sir for you slut. Get on your knees. Now"

You scramble quick onto your feet, mumbling a silent 'I'm sorry, sir' and dropped down on to your knees, hissing at the slight irritational burn between your legs but had no time to get distracted with it as the lad in front of you placed himself right before you, tugging harshly at your chin to make you look up to his eyes, "I don't think i need to tell you what to do from here, baby. Get to work" And so you did, you were about to reach out to grip the shaft when you felt Kun rub at the skin of your ass, while providing a soothing feeling for a second before you felt his hands come down with force, making you yelp out of shock with your mouth wide open. 

Taking this chance, Johnny let go of your chin, finding comfort in the warmth of your locks instead, pushing himself forward and forcing his hardness into your mouth, groaning at the feeling of your tongue being flat laid out below his member. "You look fucking stunning like this, princess" 

Focused on the sounds coming out of Johnny's voice, determined to pull out more, you start bobbing your head forward and backwards, taking in as much as you could each time you pulse forward. You try relaxing your jaw and focus on your breathing as much as possible, to try and not activate your gag reflex when Johnny's hips start thrusting his hips forward, following the same rhythm as your head making the head hit the back of your throat, sending jolts all over your body. 

Too focused on making Johnny feel good, you fail to notice Kun enter you from behind, slowly pulsing inch by inch into your still sore wetness, catching you by surprise as you let out a throaty moan, spending waves of pleasure up Johnny's body, pulling him closer and closer to his high. 

"How fucking wet." You hear Kun groan from behind you while slowly starting to move his hips once he had completely eased into you, making you lose your rhythm you'd kept for pleasing Johnny, stilling and letting him fuck your mouth instead. 

"She's so fucking wet, John. And wet. You're a little whore for all this, aren't you?" the blue haired lad questioned as though expecting an answer, "you love being used like this, don't you?" 

Too occupied with being stuffed with a cock in your mouth and Kun picking up his pace from behind you, all you could do was lean forward and balance yourself on all four while letting them take care of your pleasure and theirs. 

You feel Johnny's hip stutter, seemingly getting closer and closer to the edge of the cliff. His face contorted in pleasure, seeming desperate to chase his high. The vibrations from your moans and whimpers only dragged him closer, added to the fact how you sucked on his shaft like your life depended on it.

"I'm going to come, baby. You'll be a good girl and swallow all of me, right?" He asked, while buck forward from a rather hard thrust from behind, Kun's groans mixed with yours and Johnny's slightly high pitched ones, along with the sound of skin slapping pulled you close to your high too. 

Unable to answer with being stuffed, you nod your head as much as you could while flattening your tongue out and giving one last hard suck, earning a loud groan from Johnny as he came to a halt, thrusting slowly to empty himself completely in you and partly to ride out his high, you keep your mouth wide open to allow him to do so, while screwing your eyes shut while Kun reached out from beneath you, finding the sensitive bundle of nerves and drawing quick circles on it. 

Once Johnny pulled out, you immediately swallow all of his essence, not wasting a drop of it while letting out a sob when a particular thrust had Kun finding your soft spot, coaxing you closer to your high making you convulse around his shaft, "Open up, babygirl" Johnny tapped at your cheeks, while his chest heaved up and down. You open, showing him that you'd down aa he asked you to, and immediately closed it again, pulling at your bottom lips when Kun's ministration grew faster and hurried on your clit, "I'm so fucking close, baby. So, so fucking close" 

And that was shown by how sloppy his thrusts had gotten. Johnny mumbled out a soft 'good girl' and flopped down onto the leather couch while watching his friend destroy your core. 

You reach your high with a loud cry, closing around Kun even frequently that before as pleasure finally turned into pain, your core practically begging for a breather. Your whimpers, and the constant opening and closing around his shaft threw him off the edge as you felt his member twitch inside you before warm fluid shot up inside your sex. Kun whimpered out praises while slowly pulling out once he'd completely emptied himself inside you, running his hands up and down your back in a comforting manner while Johnny looked at your face. Tears running down your cheeks from the constant stimulation, sweat from previous doings and hair disheveled by his grip on it. Drool rolling slightly down the side of your face while yours and Kun's essence spilled out from your core down your thighs.

You were feeling ecstatic. A warmth from being so full. The feeling could be mistaken as love;

"You're incredible, doll" Kun let out with an airy chuckle while Johnny agreed along

But you knew it was the opposite of it and so did the other two in the room. 

It was the feeling of your desires being fulfilled. 

[gloryofluv]

Order Up! (Coffee Shop AU) Chapter 6

Well, this chapter is bordering 5k words. I didn't want to shorten it due to how fun the actual scene is! Let's see what the boys are like outside of the cafe? Shall we? I think we shall!

Previous Chapter

She was sighing and standing at the counter in the large kitchen. It was vacant. Why did it seem so much so now? Alex glanced over to the hedges and noted lights changing color in the vast yard. What were they doing?

Her phone beeped. She checked the text.

Unsaved number: Want me to come over? You appear pensive.

She scanned the windows to see a silhouette in the window. It seems someone had been watching her plenty. There was a bit of jostling with the shadow, and it was gone. Her phone rang, and the same number was calling.

“Dammit, Asmo!” Satan growled.

“Oh, does Satan have a girlfriend? What’s your name, honey?” Asmo cooed into the phone.

“Alex,” she smiled.

“Alex! Alex, why did you give Satan your number and not me? What’s that about?” Asmo whined into the phone.

She stifled a giggle as her timer went off. “Well, Asmo, he definitely can be persuasive.”

“How about you come over, baby? We were all just about to go swimming,” Asmo sighed and laughed. “I have a few suits you might fit. I do love an amazing two-piece.”

Alex hummed and tilted her head. “I just finished baking some cookies,” she said while pulling the sheet out with an oven mitt.

“Beel, Alex said she’s bringing over cookies!” Asmo shouted.

Alex groaned. “I never said that.”

Satan growled. “Give that back, you heathen. I’m sorry, Alex. My brothers are morons.”

She giggled and started setting the cookies on the rack. “It’s fine, Satan.”

“Alex is comin’ here?” Mammon shouted in the distance on the other end.

“No!” Satan snapped. “Now fuck off.”

“Satan, please tell her to come! We’re going swimming!” Asmo whined.

Wow, this was very enlightening. Alex was smiling as she finished setting the cookies out to cool. Now she could see why Lucifer was very discreet about the knowledge of her whereabouts.

“Yo, Mammon said Alex was on her way here?” Belphie questioned in the background.

“This is my bedroom, and do I need to pull out my paintball gun and shoot you fuckers in the face to make that a point? Get out,” Satan muffled; he likely was covering the phone speaker.

“I could come over,” she offered. “I just baked two batches of cookies that I was going to give to Jordan’s mother. I can afford to spare some.”

Silence. “You really want to join this chaos?” he asked in a low tone.

“Well, you all aren’t going to rape and kill me, right?” Alex laughed as she set the sheets into the sink.

“Um, no,” Satan snorted. “I’m pretty sure most of these idiots don’t know what cunnilingus is, let alone how to use their dick.”

Alex was so glad he couldn’t see her blush. “Well, then,” she paused and cleared her throat. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt, right?”

Satan chuckled. “I can meet you down at the door if you prefer.”

“That might be best. Educate me on all the quick exits, too,” she laughed.

“I’ll see you in five minutes?” Satan asked.

“Five,” Alex affirmed.

“Oh! Is she coming!” Asmo cried from farther away from the speaker.

“Get the fuck out!” Satan snarled, and the phone disconnected.

Alex was batting a thousand today. Maybe she had been lonely a lot longer than she convinced herself otherwise? Shaking her head, she pulled out a Tupperware and placed a decent amount of the cookies into it. She was in her jeans and a regular t-shirt. That wasn’t too bad.

Breathe. Well, this was going to be interesting. She dialed and pressed the phone to her cheek. Her feet carried her to her purse just as the call connected.

“Alex, what’s wrong?” Jordan asked.

“I’m walking over to see them,” she said. “If I die, I’m going to haunt you.”

“Fair,” he laughed. “Levi-chan, Alex is coming over.”

Alex blinked and stopped in her tracks. “You’re there ?”

“Yeah, darling, I come over almost every week to hang with Levi. When you were at school, we would hang out because he’s part of my cosplay circuit.”

“Jordan! Don’t tell her that!” Leviathan hissed.

“Fine, I’ll see you momentarily,” She sighed and shouldered her bag.

“See ya soon!” Jordan laughed and hung up.

Jordan and collecting his introverts… she shook her head and walked out the door, locking it behind her. Pacing across the street seemed like running a mile. It was quite nerve-wracking. She twitched her nose and approached the pathway, glancing up at the massive house.

Okay. She stepped up toward the door and scowled at the boot marks on it. Strange. The door opened, and Satan smirked before leaning on the door jam. “I see you found your way here.”

“Easy as walking next door,” she laughed.

“Just to let you know, my brothers don’t represent or even come close to my moral values,” he sighed and moved from the entrance. “Come join us in hell.”

Alex laughed and stepped inside. It actually did read frat house, but not in a cringy way—tons of pictures on the wall, goofy quotes, or even of them.

“Put your bag down on the table so that no one digs through it,” he suggested and pointed to the side table by the door.

Alex rocked her head and slid it off before Satan led her down a hallway and into a giant kitchen. The motherload of kitchens, actually. It was pristine and bright with top-of-the-line gadgets and plenty of counter space, including a large island.

Beelzebub was digging in the fridge and turned to blink. “Alex, you really did come.”

This sweet boy was shirtless and gorgeous. Alex swallowed and smiled. “Yes, I did. I brought cookies.”

“How many times have I instructed that we do not leave our clothing lying around? Mammon, where are you!” A loud shout was heard down the hall, and Alex cringed.

Satan snorted. “You’ll get used to his shrill tones. Or you won’t,” he rolled his eyes.

Beel approached and set down his light beer. “Alex, those cookies look really delicious.”

She set them on the counter and pulled off the lid. “Please have a couple. I brought them for all of you.”

“Fuckin’ Lucifer!” Mammon huffed and walked into the room. “Woah, Alex, you’re here, in our house.” He stopped dead and rubbed his damp chest.

Beel groaned after devouring the first cookie. “These are almost as good as Barbatos’s.”

Mammon frowned and stomped toward the island. “What is it? Oh, you brought me cookies?”

“I brought everyone cookies, yes,” Alex nodded.

Satan reached over and leaned on the island with a smile. “I invited her.”

“They’re my mother’s recipe. She said you could win over any man with a good cookie,” Alex giggled and exhaled. “She was a riot.”

“Come on, let’s go!” Mammon huffed and yanked Alex’s arm.

“Wait, where,” she struggled, and he tugged her out the way he came and into a vast sitting room. She could hardly get her footing as he pulled her along and out a sliding glass door.

“Hey, Asmo! Look who came and brought me cookies but not you,” Mammon laughed.

Alex groaned and pulled her arm from him. “Don’t do that!” she snapped and reached over, flicking his nose.

Mammon froze, and his cheeks darkened. “Did ya just flick me?” he huffed and rubbed his nose.

Asmo screeched with laughter. “Mammon, you idiot!”

Alex glanced over and saw a small pool connected to a jacuzzi which Asmodeus and Belphegor were inside. Belphie waved with a sleepy smile and climbed out. “Well, look who came out of hiding. The rare and unusual white-haired doe. You know the myth is, if you catch her, she has to grant you a wish.”

She beamed and gestured to the sliding glass door where Beel was walking out. “I brought over cookies as a peace offering for you not to shoot this doe.”

Belphegor laughed and rocked his head. “Hopefully, Beel didn’t eat all of them.”

Mammon wrapped his arm around Alex. “She came over to see me.”

“No, actually, I came over because I came over. Satan invited me,” Alex said and nudged Mammon with her elbow, causing him to jerk and huff.

“Stop that. I’m ticklish there,” he groaned.

“Actually, I invited you over,” Asmo laughed and relaxed in the hot water. “You don’t have to have a suit, honey. You can just get in with whatever you have under your clothes.”

Beel offered the container to Belphie, who took a cookie. “Thanks, Beel. I bet they taste great.”

“They do,” Beel nodded.

Satan peeled in between Alex and Mammon. “Thank you for being an idiot. We’ll be going now. We have tons of books to review.”

“Shut up, Satan! You’re not gonna steal her away!” Mammon snapped.

“What is the meaning of all the idiotic bickering? Our neighbors could hear all of you seven blocks down!”

Alex jumped, and Beel moved next to her to reveal Lucifer. Oh, a dressed-down Lucifer? Buttoned up charcoal long-sleeve with the sleeves rolled up? No tie. Pretty handsome.

“Oh,” Lucifer scowled. “Alex, what are you doing here?”

“She brought cookies for us,” Beel smiled and offered Lucifer the container.

Lucifer examined his brothers before reaching in and taking a cookie. “Thank you.”

Mammon groaned and shoved Satan. “Lay off, would ya?”

Unfortunately, in their jostling and now the bickering that ensued, Alex was caught in the middle. Rubber soles and wet ground don’t mix near a pool, and she was toppled into the water. The absolute hilarity of it all. These brothers fought and argued probably all the time.

Surfacing, she huffed and shivered. “Shit, I wasn’t ready for that,” she sputtered and yanked her hair from her face.

“Fuck, are you alright?” Satan scrambled and bent to the edge to offer her a hand.

She smiled and let out a stream of giggles. “I’m fine. It’s just a pool, and I’m most certainly not allergic to water.”

He hoisted her from the pool and helped her to her feet. Lucifer was pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m truly sorry, Alex.”

“Alex, I’m sorry, really,” Mammon puffed and raced to one of the chairs. “Here, use my towel,” he grumbled and handed it to her.

She took it and shrugged. “I’m fine. Not the first time I was thrown into a pool,” she voiced and yanked off her shoes and socks. They were soaking, so Alex placed them carefully aside while wrapping the large towel around her body.

Lucifer exhaled and waved his hand toward himself. “Let’s go inside. I’ll find you something to wear in the meantime.”

“She could just take off her clothes!” Asmo laughed.

Lucifer shot him a warning glare before assisting the dripping woman into the house. The sitting room was quite cozy now that she could see it from another angle. It had a large tv with plenty of seating space on a section couch. There were board games on the shelves, and it all weirdly screamed family.

Jordan and Leviathan appeared just as they were about to reach the other end of the room. “What happened?” Jordan laughed.

“Well, I got caught between two brothers arguing and fell into the pool,” Alex laughed.

“Sounds about right. We were just coming down to see how you’re faring,” Jordan smiled.

Leviathan was hiding behind his towel. “Hi, Alex.”

“Hi, Levi,” she smiled.

“We’ll see you out by the pool. I convinced Levi to come down for some normie fun,” Jordan laughed and waved.

The pair passed by Lucifer, and he breathed before glancing at Alex. “I would have preferred you would have told me you were coming over.”

“I know, I should have,” Alex rocked her head.

He smiled and coaxed her along, and they moved toward the staircase. More pictures and paintings. Actually, quite a few paintings and most of them were of a dark landscape with a bright moon and stars. They were entrancing.

After the third flight, Lucifer ushered Alex toward a door to the right, and he opened it to reveal a bathroom. Lucifer flicked on the light and pointed. “Go ahead and attempt to dry off. I’ll fetch something for you to wear.”

“Are you going to be able to find me something that will actually fit?” She questioned with curled lips as she entered the room.

“Not likely, but I will make due,” he responded and shut the door.

Well, that’s one way to allow her to adjust. Alex breathed and yanked off her wet t-shirt, setting it in the sink. She did that with her pants and grimaced at him seeing her underwear. They weren’t like the sexy kind women prepare to wear around a man who may or may not be interested. No, they were plain and unflattering.

Alex exhaled and tore them off before tucking them into her jeans. Better. She wrapped the towel around her chilled sink and placed the seat down on the toilet before sitting.

What a bathroom. A huge tub had a shower wand connected to it midway—tons of little metal shelves with products of all sorts. There also was a shower to the right, and the glass that surrounded it seemed pristine and clean. More products in the shower… hmm, interesting indeed.

The knock at the door came with a voice. “I found something suitable for you.”

Alex cleared her throat and went to the door, cracking it. Lucifer was staring at her face, just her face. She actually could see the piercing concentration he was using for such an act. He offered the clothing and nodded.

“Thank you, Lucifer. I would have been chafing with jeans on,” she laughed.

“Well, let’s avoid such circumstances.”

“I’ll be out in a moment.”

He rocked his head, and she shut the door. Now, what did this man bring her to wear? Alex set the clothing down and shrugged. Not horrible. A t-shirt that was black and three sizes too big, and a pair of leggings that had to be Asmodeus’s because they were lavender and tiny. Well, unless someone has a girlfriend in this house.

Alex situated the leggings and was impressed that they didn’t reveal anything private. She then tossed on the shirt, tying it off to the side, so she wasn’t walking around in a curtain of cloth. Alex took the towel and wrapped her clothing in it before walking out of the bathroom.

Lucifer had out his phone and glanced over with a nod. “Suitable for now. I’ll throw those in to wash when we head down.”

Alex rocked her head, and they walked toward the staircase. “Are you upset I came over?”

He shook his head with a large exhale. “It was bound to be my irritation sooner or later. They will need to help you move.”

Alex laughed and shook her head. “Lucifer, all of you barely know me.”

It was so sudden. He had her turned and against the wall. Not in a kiss or even a heavy glare. No, he pressed his hand on the wall next to her while the other was pointing at her nose. “Stop this. Now. If I insist on assisting you, I don’t appreciate stubborn neglect. I’m not ignorant of grief and what it takes to live through it. Stop doing a disservice to yourself by trying to be strong.”

Cue the thump, thump of her heart and wide eyes. “I-I just, I don’t know anything else,” she stammered in a breathy tone.

“Well, that will be mended,” he voiced and pulled from her space.

Alex licked her lips and swallowed as her cheeks burned. Has anyone ever talked like that to her before? No, actually. Forcefully taking help was something she’d really never experienced because no one gave two shits about her outside of Jordan’s family. It was different.

“So who’s leggings are these? You have seven girlfriends hidden here too?” Alex questioned with a smile as they walked down the staircase.

Lucifer glanced over at her with pure sarcasm laced on his features. “Obviously.”

“Just some weird group community. I had no idea,” She laughed.

Lucifer stifled a smile and waved his hand. “As if any of my brothers are capable enough to be adult males in a relationship,” he snorted.

“It’s all about application, Lucifer,” Alex giggled.

They returned to the ground floor, and he wagged his fingers. “Let me put those in. If you go home before they’re done, I’ll have them dropped off for you.”

“Okay,” she agreed and handed him the bundle.

He exhaled and shook his head. “Try to avoid another trip into the pool, Alex.”

“Roger that,” she beamed.

Lucifer patted her shoulder with his available hand and moved toward the door on the left. Alex took that as a dismissal of some sort and walked back toward the sitting room. She watched as Jordan was in his trunks and waving flamboyantly while strutting next to the pool.

“Now introducing, the one the only, J Getlow!” Jordan declared.

Asmo had a remote in his hand and turned on the music. Sure enough, Jennifer Lopez’s I Ain’t Your Mama started playing. Alex lingered in the room and watched Jordan strut while lip-syncing, and the brothers seemed amused. Beelzebub was in the pool. Satan was reading a book on a chair a safe distance from the pool. Belphie was in the hot tub with Asmo and was grimacing despite watching.

Mammon was lounging on a tube with his glasses on in the pool a distance from Beel. Alex couldn’t see Leviathan until she noted white limbs hanging just in view in the pool. Well, they all were out there. Alex approached the door and smirked as Jordan finished the song.

Asmo clapped and laughed. “Oh, darling, you’re one of my favorite people!”

Jordan bowed before flipping into the pool. “I haven’t done a good drag show in forever,” he announced when he surfaced.

“The last one was pretty excellent,” Alex finally spoke as she came outside.

Jordan laughed and blew her a kiss. “Alex, you’ve always been my biggest fan.”

“Always. You deserve it too. You’re the extrovert to my introvert,” she laughed and walked around toward the seat next to Satan.

“Alex, lovely, Jordan was telling me you absolutely don’t date?” Asmo puffed with a scowl. “We need to fix that.”

Alex snorted and crossed her legs across the lounge. “Asmo, I didn’t have time to date. I was on a mission to make sure I got a degree so I could pay for my life.”

“It’s true, she slept maybe six hours at most every day, went to work, then jetted off to school. I’m not even positive she was human,” Jordan laughed and crawled into the hot tub.

Beel walked over to the pool edge where she sat. “Did you at least eat?”

Alex shifted her head from side to side. “More or less. Jordan always made sure I had food,” she laughed.

“By the way, those leggings look stunning on you. You can keep them,” Asmo giggled and waved.

“I think it is the first time I’ve seen her in something, not jeans or sweats,” Jordan laughed.

“Oh, I smell a shopping trip,” Asmo nodded.

Alex exhaled and smirked over at the man reading. “All the time?”

“Yes, Alex, all the time,” Satan snorted.

Alex shifted and ruffled Satan’s hair, causing him to blush. “What’s that like to live with your family in one big house?”

“It’s annoying as shit,” Belphie huffed as he shoved Asmo away from him and climbed from the water. “But we do alright,” he added and walked over.

This was likely Alex’s first time being around so many shirtless men. She remembered going to the beach as a teenager, but this was a pretty condensed experience. Jordan glanced back at her several times, almost as if checking to see if she was uncomfortable. Surprisingly she wasn’t.

Belphegor pushed her legs aside and sat down. “So, Alex. How close do you live?”

“Close,” she replied.

“How close!” Asmo shouted with wide eyes.

“Close,” she echoed.

Satan leaned to her and smirked before whispering. “Please don’t tell them. It’s my get back.”

Alex smiled and nodded.

“So, Solomon told me that Alex is going to come over for dinner this week? I didn’t realize you liked Solomon. Fair warning, his cooking isn’t the best,” Asmo voiced as he lounged against the rim.

“I said no such thing. Solomon is a pushy bastard,” Alex giggled.

Belphegor wrapped his purple towel around himself and forcefully scooted closer to Alex, pushing her over so he could relax against the back of the chair with her. Alex puffed and moved. Talk about pushy bastards. Satan exhaled while shaking his head.

“You see, Asmo and Solomon like to incite a new religion every once and a while,” Belphegor grumbled. “‘Oh, my fucking god,’ tends to be Asmo’s chant,” he rolled his eyes.

Alex covered her mouth as she turned tomato. “What?” she squeaked.

Satan groaned. “Can you just for once, Belphie, just once, not enjoy shock value?”

“I’m glad you noticed, Belphie! That was years ago, though. We grew bored of each other,” Asmo sighed. “Maybe I’ll call him soon.”

“That is way more than I needed to know,” Alex shook her head.

“That man has a nice dick,” Asmo giggled.

Jordan shook his head. “Not worth the trouble. He’s way too difficult.”

“Apparently, that’s what Alex enjoys,” Satan grumbled.

“She does! Alex likes difficult people because they surprise her,” Jordan laughed and glanced back at Levi in the pool. “Come on in here, Levi-chan. I promise I’ll slap Asmo around if he bothers you.”

Asmo grinned and wagged his fingers under his chin. “Don’t tempt me, J baby.”

Levi grumbled to himself but complied, sliding into the hot tub.

“Is it like this here, every day?” Alex questioned.

“Oh, yeah,” Mammon perked up and climbed from the water. He sat down on her chair near her feet.

“Don’t get her wet, scumbag,” Belphie growled.

“Or do!” Asmo laughed. “She can put on more of mine and Lucifer’s clothes!”

Lucifer’s shirt? Alex glanced down at the plain black t-shirt. He actually owned casual wear?

“Insufferable asshole,” Belphie snorted and plucked at the shirt.

“Cruelty has more reason,” Satan nodded.

“Do either of you ever stop complaining?”

Alex glanced over to see Lucifer walking out to the pool. He was in his same outfit but had pages in hand. “You’re working still?” Alex asked.

Lucifer exhaled and lifted the papers. “When am I not? We have a long day tomorrow. It’s time for everyone to dry off and settle in for the evening.”

“You’re not my father,” Belphie challenged.

“If I was, you would have never made it to puberty,” Lucifer shook his head.

Alex laughed and nudged Belphie. “You are a bit of a prick.”

“You like it,” Belphie snorted.

Those still in the water climbed out and reached for towels. Alex shifted from her blocked in seating around Mammon and Belphegor before standing. “I suppose I better go. I have work in the morning. This was fun.”

“You have to come over more,” Beel nodded. “Come eat dinner.”

“Do you have an obsession with feeding everyone you crush on, Beel?” Satan questioned.

Beel blushed and exhaled. “She lives alone.”

Jordan rocked his head. “He has a point. It might be good for you, Alex.”

She laughed and patted Beelzebub’s arm. “I’ll think about it. Behave yourself,” she said and patted Mammon’s head.

“I always behave,” he puffed with pink cheeks.

“No, you do not,” Lucifer groaned. “Your creditor bills explain that explicitly.”

Alex stifled a smile and waved at the group. “I’ll see all of you soon,” she said and reached for her shoes.

“What a mighty fine ass to get behind,” Asmo teased.

Alex stood up with tinted cheeks and puffed. “Goodbye, Asmo,” she groaned.

“Let me walk you out,” Lucifer declared.

She nodded as the boys bid her goodbye and followed Lucifer through the house with her shoes in hand. Nabbing her bag at the door, he paused before opening it.

“I had fun,” Alex smiled.

“Really?” he scowled.

“Yes, really,” she laughed and rolled her eyes. “I think all of you are interesting and very different. I’ve never been around that in my life.”

“You’re welcome to come over whenever you like. Just as long as you can stomach their chaos,” Lucifer voiced and exhaled.

“Lucifer, I deal with them at work pretty well. I think I’m capable of drawing my own limits. I wish you wouldn’t stress about this so much. For the first time in my life, I think I really enjoy my neighbors. Even if it is for only a short time,” she explained and tilted her head.

He touched her shoulder and nodded. “Don’t hesitate, alright?”

“Alright,” she beamed.

He opened the door, and she stepped outside of it, putting on her shoes enough to walk. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I look forward to it,” Alex responded and waved before walking down the path.

She glanced back once she was on the sidewalk to see him still observing her. The woman paced back home and noted that the light poured from their front door, and the dark form of him watching remained. This man. She couldn’t quite wrap her head around his demeanor.

Well, it was time for a shower and bed. She was definitely keeping his shirt until he asked for it back. If he ever did.

@rsmrymnt-tea @otome-scribbles

[mattzerella-sticks]

Before the Night Ends

Dean/Castiel, 2.1k words, post-Wedding/pre-Honeymoon

ao3

It's been a wedding for the ages. Dean and Castiel finally tied the knot, with guests flying in from all across America, Heaven, Hell - even the Empty. But everything must come to an end, and after a wonderful Roadhouse reception Dean and Cas drove off in Baby and off towards their honeymoon.

Except, it's a long drive from Kansas plains to California beaches. They stop close to midnight at a motel along the highway, to sleep, celebrate their wedding night and that it's Valentine's Day, too.

           There’s a motel off Highway 70 called Angel’s Paradise, first established in the early 1900s, and last renovated in 1982. The owners back then, who remain so today, envisioned heaven as some tropical destination. That meant each room, alike in their simplicity and functionality, would be redone along these guidelines. Walls plastered with paper-print palm fronds and blooming, pink flowers. Bathrooms tiled a light blue – like waters from the clearest ocean – and little soaps shaped like shells to match the shell-patterned shower curtain. They’d have an entertainment unit housing a small television set would double as a dust collector, various ocean-themed knick-knacks cluttered atop it, ranging from homemade to store bought. A wicker table situated between two wicker chairs, a wicker dresser placed next to the entertainment unit and a wicker bed-or-beds layered by their own palm fronds, matching the walls. Finally, tying the décor together was a little (wicker) side table near the door with a plastic conch set to catch keys or loose change or cigarette ash. Given these changes, any customer might imagine they were in Florida rather then Colorado, or it was June instead of February. Especially in the crown jewel of Angel’s Paradise, the Honeymoon Suite.

           Except the Suite’s current boarders were very aware of where and when they are. Probably because they have yet to see their room for the night.

           Dean tucks his hands into his elbows, shivering outside the Suite while Cas fiddles with its doorknob. “Come on,” he whines, “what’s the hold-up?”

           Cas pauses, turning to Dean. “Sorry,” he says, “the lady at the counter – she said they were having issues since the last occupants. Something about them breaking the lock?”

           “Fuckin’ a…” Dean hisses, bouncing now. An icy wind cuts across the parking lot, Dean defenseless to it because he forwent a heavier jacket and how thin the material of his suit was. Castiel looks marginally warmer than Dean, wrapped in his trademark trench coat. Still, Dean notices how his hands tremble while holding the key. Cas’s hand flicks to the left, Dean’s gaze catching the silver band wrapped around his ring finger. One day, he may get used to it. Dean hopes he never does and can experience the same flutter of warmth rippling through his heart from seeing it. He leans into Cas, Dean dropping his head onto Cas’s shoulder. “Who do I have to pray to for this door to open?”

           “No one,” Cas declares, lock clicking in time with his words, “because it’s open!”

           Dean curses under breath, smiling. “Great,” he says, “let’s get in there, then – hey… hey!”

           Swept off his feet, Dean falls into the loving grip of his husband. Cas places one arm at his back, supporting most of the weight, while the other arm traps Dean’s knees, keeping his legs bent and Dean unable to wriggle himself free. Cas smiles down at him, laughing.

           “You think this is so funny,” Dean scowls, holding onto Cas’s tie like it were a lifeline. “You little shit –“

           “Mr. Shit, Dean,” Cas interrupts, kicking the door open and striding past the threshold, “I did take your last name, after all.”

           “My mistake…” He huffs, burying his head in Cas’s chest while he uses the fingers not squeezing Cas’s tie to comb the hairs at his husband’s neck. “Dean and Castiel Shit… I can see the monogramed towels already.” Dean closes his eyes, purring like a kitten while he absorbs the heat that radiates from Cas. It’s inhuman how much of a furnace he was, especially after giving up his grace to live as a human, to be human with Dean. Like always, Dean’s smile widens at the thought. He tries hiding his rapidly flushing face, but Cas tears Dean off of him. He ungraciously dumps Dean onto the bed, blue eyes betraying his cool demeanor as they glow with mirth from Dean’s startled squawking. “What do you think you’re doing?”

           “Going to get the bags,” he says, moving towards the door, “Why don’t you get comfortable, I’ll only be a moment.”

           Dean shakes his head, situating himself better on the bed. He sits at the foot of it, toeing off his snakeskin boots and then peeling off the dark grey dress socks he wore with them. While pulling at his tie, Cas returns with their bags. He doesn’t close the door after, and a blustery chill fills the space. Goosepimples erupt in scattered bunches up and down Dean’s arms. “Close the door!” he yells, dumping the tie onto the slowly growing pile of discarded clothing. His suit jacket joins his tie and socks and boots as Cas deposits their bags by the television. He then hits the door with his elbow, shutting out the wind. Cas gestures at the closed door with a flourish and wry grin. Dean scoffs, “Ugh, who’s bright idea was it to do this in winter?”

           “The same man who, on his birthday, said,” Cas drifts closer, helping Dean unbutton his shirt, “and I quote, ‘If you think you can propose to me and not expect us to get married as soon as possible, then you don’t know what you’re signing up for… buddy’.” Cas eases the shirt off Dean’s shoulders, kissing the exposed skin right above his t-shirt. “For the record,” Cas adds, whispering into his collarbone, “I expected it. It was one of the reasons why I couldn’t wait any longer.”

           Dean remembers. Their family, together, celebrating Dean’s birthday. His first birthday free from Chuck’s machinations, with a cake Jack spent all day baking and presents that lined the end of the table. He held Cas’s hand as he blew out the candles, mind blank because nothing he could wish for would match the happiness he felt in that moment. He tells Cas this after he asks what he wished for. And Cas, of course, proceeds to kiss him. Cas kisses him while Eileen cut the cake, while Jack helped plate them, and while Sam clapped Dean’s shoulders in warning to reign it in. Dean pulled back, gasping, unsure how he might respond to his then-boyfriend’s passion. Then Cas asked him that all-important, heart-stopping, mind-blowing question, opened a velvet box, and Dean knew exactly what to say.

           “I would’ve waited,” Dean reveals, helping Cas with his clothes as Cas guides Dean’s legs out of his slacks. “Everyone knows how long I’ve waited to tell you I love you… I would’ve waited, even if we died and we had to get married in heaven.” Dean pecks Cas’s lips, divesting him of both jackets and his button-down shirt. “I’m glad we didn’t have to, though.”

           “So am I.”

           They stand together in t-shirts and boxers, barely an inch of space between them. No one speaks, not that they have to, but the usually comfortable silence makes Dean nervous. His focus drifts from Cas and onto the plastic conch behind him. Then, he notices how the rest of the room is decorated. Dean giggles, “Wow… it’s, this place is…”

           Cas nods. Dean needn’t say anything else. “You should’ve seen the inside,” he snickers, “the staff were wearing Hawaiian shirts and shark-tooth necklaces.”

           “Hey,” Dean shoves him, “don’t diss Hawaiian shirts.” He collects his clothes and boots, bringing them over to their duffels. “I’ve got about three packed away in here, and I’m planning on buying at least a few more before our honeymoon ends.”

           “Should they even be called Hawaiian shirts if we’re not in Hawaii?” Cas asks. Dean hears the mattress squeak, and guesses his husband sat on the bed. He digs through the duffel, Cas monologuing in the background. “Are they called Coloradan shirts since we’re in Colorado? If we buy them in California, won’t they be Californian Shirts? Or is it because they’re made in Hawaii, and then shipped elsewhere? Can you imagine it – shirt factories, dotting the beaches? Oh, I’d hope the workers making all these Hawaiian shirts are at least being paid a fair wage, given how popular they seem to be…”

           “There’s no factories on any beaches,” Dean tells him, “and – hate to burst your bubble, angel – but I doubt Hawaiian shirt makers are paid what they deserve, regardless of where their factories are.” Cas hums in that same, sullen note he usually does when the beginning notes of Sarah McLachlan play and Dean can’t switch channels fast enough. He folds his clothes, setting them aside. Then, Dean sneaks his hand into his stack of clean boxers, finding the surprise he hid for his husband. “Hey,” Dean rises, “capitalism sucks, but we can’t let it ruin our trip.” Dean drops onto Cas’s lap, delighting in the tiny ‘oof’ that escapes from his husband. “Here,” he says, “I was saving this for later… but hell, we’re running out of time. I’d rather give it to you before the night ends than a day later.” Dean hands him an envelope, Cas’s name scrawled on the front. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

           “A card?” Cas asks, flipping the envelope back and forth, “Dean… you didn’t have to get me anything.”

           “’Course I did…” Dean presses a kiss to Cas’s temple, ruffling his hair. “It’s Valentine’s Day… probably the first Valentine’s Day I actually wanted to celebrate in a long time, because I’ve got someone I love and want to celebrate. And sure, it’s not like we didn’t do just that… in front of all our friends and families… and a few exes… and uninvited guests –“

           “The point, Dean?”

           “Sorry,” Dean lays his head atop Cas’s, watching him peel away the envelope’s glue. “We’ll have tons more holidays and anniversaries to celebrate in the future… I just didn’t want our first Valentine’s Day to be overshadowed by our wedding. You mean so much to me that I’m not gonna just lump the two together like you’re some kid who was unlucky enough to be born on Christmas. You deserve it all.” Cas flips the envelope, shaking its contents free. A pair of red panties floats onto his outstretched hand. “Not just some stinkin’ card.”

           Cas squeezes the panties. “Are you –?”

           “About to show you how friggin’ fantastic married sex is?” Dean wrangles the panties from Cas’s fist, waving it about like a flag. “You bet. Let me slip these on and…“ He starts towards the bathroom, Cas slowly chasing him.

           “You don’t have to,” his husband growls, “you can change here –“

           “Cas, I won’t be long –“

           “I don’t know if I can wait!”

           “You’ll have to!” Dean closes the door on Cas’s face, laughing as he hears his husband bang against the door in protest. He yells for Dean, but Dean ignores him. Dean brings his hand to his face, covering his mouth with both it and the panties he carries. They smell like cherries. He forgot to tell Cas they’re edible. Cas will figure that out later.

           He’ll also give Cas his real card later, as well. The one he wrote using all the words Dean was too afraid to say at the altar. Little details about the way Cas hogs all the blankets when he sleeps, and how his eyes crinkle when he smiles, and that Cas’s hugs chase away dark thoughts better than any drink might’ve. There were also bigger things he mentioned, in this card. About Cas and his unwavering faith in Dean, even at times where he didn’t deserve it. About the despair that bloomed whenever Cas left his side, a bouquet of horrid, wilted roses growing rampantly over his heart and piercing it with their thorns during those awful times it seemed their last goodbye truly was. About the love Cas inspired within Dean that changed his life, from the very beginning, from the touch of Cas’s hand on his shoulder. That simple act which broke him free from Chuck’s wheel again and again and again. Dean couldn’t say any of this in a crowded room. He doubts he can with only Cas. He already cried enough for one day. So, they’ll have sex instead. After they’ve burned through the remaining fumes that linger in their tanks, Dean will present the card, curl against Cas’s side with his head tucked underneath his husband’s chin, and listen while Cas reads how much he means to Cas.

           But that won’t be until later. Now, Dean shimmies out of his boxers. He pulls the panties on, flicking the bow twice once it’s settled. “Are you ready?” Dean croons, jiggling the knob, “because it’s time to ride ‘em, cowboy!”

           Cas pries the door loose, almost ripping it off its hinges as pull Dean forward into a searing kiss. Dean smiles into it, letting Cas take lead. Dean’s gift were the panties. Cas’s gift is putting in the work to get them off. Cas throws Dean onto the bed, his mouth attacking Dean’s neck. His hand trails down Dean’s side, tickling and teasing him.

           He couldn’t have written a better ending to his story. Or imagine a better beginning to his next.

[ppangjae]

made to fall in love | eight

SERIES MASTERLIST

prev | eight | next

SUMMARY. Seoul’s finest 30 under 30. The country’s youngest billionaire. 2019′s richest bachelor. But of all the women he could go after, he goes after… her?

GENRE. fluff and angst | ceo!jaehyun | nerd!reader | enemies to lovers!au | long lost friend!au

WORD COUNT. 1.3k+ words

warnings. tooth-rotting fluff, swearing, and tons of bickering!

author’s note. short update today! happy reading!

EIGHT. moon • i’m just a moon to you

It’s been a couple of days since Jia Park’s face was plastered all over TV screens and yet, with her power and riches, she got away with the scandal. You’re not sure what she has planned up her sleeve. Did she use this as a way to get more attention? Did she use Jaehyun to give her father’s company more attention? But if that was her true intention, why did she use you? 

“Good morning, Y/N.”

Ever since Jia Park was caught up in her identity scandal and ever since your encounter with Jaehyun, you’ve grown to hate him. You’ve grown to hate everything about him. You look up from your desk that has been “coincidentally” moved to his office. Work closely with each other my ass, you think to yourself as he walks into the office with a cup of coffee. 

“Good morning, sir.” You mutter, occupying yourself by the pile of work you have yet to finish.

“The traffic is quite hectic this morning, don’t you think?” 

Jaehyun looks over his shoulder to see you focused on your work. You’re busy drawing and measuring lines on your blueprint to notice that he’s trying to talk to you. He’s dying to let you know the truth, but he can’t. He stops himself from sighing sadly. “Y/N?”

You look up at him, with an eyebrow raised. “Yes, sir?”

“Do you want a cup of coffee?”

You look at him blankly. “No, thank you.”

“Are you sure—”

“I have a lot of things to finish, sir. I don’t have time for coffee breaks.” You nod your head at his cup of coffee that’s in his hand. “Besides, I’m sure one cup of coffee is enough for you. There’s no need for you to be going back for seconds.”

He clears his throat. “Alright. Let’s get back to work, then.”

The office is silent. All that is heard are pencil strokes and paper. Jaehyun tears his gaze from the screen of his desktop computer to look at you. Your eyebrows are knitting against each other. You’re mumbling words underneath your breath while scratching the back of your head. 

“Need help?”

You glance at him. “No. I’ll be fine—”

“You seem like you’re stuck—”

“I’m fine, sir.” You purse your lips into a tight line. 

“If you need any help or if you have any questions, don’t be afraid to let me know—”

You squint your eyes at him. “I’m completely aware of that, sir. Thank you for the friendly reminder.”

And just like that, you shut him down again. 

The day passes by with a blink of an eye and you find yourself still drowning in work. Jaehyun looks just as tired as you are. He’s been answering phone calls and attending meetings all day. He’s been in and out of the office in between meetings to check up with the engineers and architects. And although you’ve moved into his office, you can’t help but wonder, if he’s going to be working closely with you, why hasn’t he consulted you with his work yet? An entire work day passed by and you haven’t worked with him yet. 

You let out a soft yawn, gulping down the rest of your coffee before chucking the empty paper cup into the trash can. On the way back to the office, you stop in your tracks. Behind the window that looks into his office, you see Jaehyun standing at your desk, looking at your work. You frown. 

“Is there something wrong with my work, sir?” You ask as you enter the office.

He glances at you, shaking his head. “There’s nothing wrong. I just wanted to double-check.”

“Okay,” you mumble.

“It’s getting late, don’t you think?” 

You look out the window behind his desk that overlooks the entire city. “I should probably get home before Mark starts scolding me for working too much.”

“Let’s call it a day—”

“Sure.” You mumble, walking over to your desk to grab your things. You’re putting on your coat.

“Do you have a ride home? Is Mark picking you up?”

You shake your head. “Mark doesn’t drive. I usually take the bus home—”

“At this hour? At night?” He asks.

You nod your head and look at him as if it was nothing. “I do it everyday. It doesn’t really matter—”

“Let me drive you home—”

“I’ll be fine—”

“Just let me drive you home so that I know you’re home safe.” He argues back. You can tell that you’re pushing his buttons because he’s looking at you with an evident frown on his face.

“Fine,” you huff out. “Have it your way, then.”

On the drive home, you avoid making any conversation with him. You can hear the gears shift in his head and it’s quite amusing. It’s quite interesting to see Jaehyun try to talk to you. You can read him like a book. He was so easy to read. 

“From now on, I’ll drive you home.”

You tear your gaze away from the window to look at him with an alarming look. “Sir, I’ll be fine with taking the bus. It’s always been that way. I don’t like a sudden change in routine—”

“It’s for your safety.” His eyes meet yours.

“I get home safely everyday, so taking the bus won’t be different—”

“Jia is out there. She can harm you anytime, any day.” His knuckles turn white when his grip on the steering wheel tightens. “Do you want that to happen?”

“Do I look weak to you?” You scoff. 

“I didn’t say that, you did.” He argues back. “I’m driving you home. We wouldn’t want Mark to worry about you when one day, you don’t come home.”

He has a point. You fold your arms in defeat. “Fine. Whatever.”

He sighs frustratingly. “Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed or something?”

“Why?”

“Because you’ve been having such a bad temper all day—”

“It’s none of your business, sir.” You interrupt him. 

“But you make it seem like it’s my fault you’re acting this way—”

“Because it is.” You shrug your shoulders. “Stop acting like you don’t know who I am, Jaehyun.”

You both arrive right in front of your apartment complex. You let out a tiring sigh, unbuckling your seatbelt to gather your things. He’s unlocking the doors to the car. “What act? I’m not acting.”

“You are—”

“I’m not.” He glares at you. 

“You’re not acting?” You quirk an eyebrow. 

“I’m not—”

You’re slowly leaning closer to him. He’s moving away as you’re moving closer to him. He looks quite taken aback. Your face is inches away from his. He stares into your eyes that are looking right into his. He can feel his heartbeat start to speed up and he’s afraid that you can hear it thumping through his chest.

“So you’re telling me,” you mumble. “You don’t know who I am?”

He gulps nervously. “Y/N—”

You immediately pull away from him and he lets out a breath that he’s been holding in for heaven knows how long. You roll your eyes. “You’re a horrible actor, Jaehyun.”

He’s speechless. You’re stepping out of his car and just before you close the door, you look at him one last time. 

“Your eyes never lie, Jaehyun.”

“What’s your plan B?”

Jia tosses her pen onto the table. Her father has his back facing her. She leans back against her chair as she glances at her uncle. Wooyoung adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “We have a lot of alternate plans.”

Jia’s father turns around, looking interested. “What do you have in mind?”

“Your company is being closely watched by everyone ever since Jia got exposed,” Wooyoung explains, glancing at Jia. She rolls her eyes. “But we can take advantage of that.”

“How so?”

Wooyoung smirks. “Well, I’m pissed off that that newbie Y/N took my place at Jung Architects. This is all her fault. There’s one thing we need to do.”

“What do we need to do?” Jia asks.

“We need Y/N’s blueprints.”

author’s note. thank you for reading! until then, next thursday it is!

taglist: (if you want to be a part of the taglist, send me an ask!)

@riverdale-kpop @cupofjae @jae-canikeepyou @crystxlkpop @befikel @justineasian @frankenstein852 @mymonbebecarat127heart @hoshitaro @ilymarkchan @hyluvjk @fantasircle @yourchasingsunsetslove @jae-bam @starryhyun​ @kriselynne @jaeismytamtation​ @etaerealboy​ @irrelevxntstxr @johnnyseosabs​ @jaeveil​ @doublepeace @jaehyunie77 @nshitae​ @ijustwantsummilk @crtznstuff @linnnnduhhhnctlove @airloe @princessaecha @jimjamjaemin @linansey

[giorno-plays-piano]

Playing games Pairing: dark!Sebastian Stan x Reader Warning: yandere, swearing, some non-con implications towards the end. Words: 2069. P.S. JESUS CHRIST WHAT HAVE I DONE I AM A TERRIBLE PERSON I HOPE NO ONE WHO REALLY MET SEBASTIAN GONNA READ THIS ghjdfyjdfds I’m so sorry guys _____________________________________ “I asked for a vanilla latte with extra milk, not caramel cappuccino.”

You rolled your eyes at his irritated remark. You knew Sebastian wasn’t in his best mood this morning and expected him to make your day nastier just because he felt like it.

“Sorry, but I’m sure it was caramel cappuccino. You asked for some cinnamon on the top, remember?”

“No, I didn’t.” He snarled and looked at you, giving a mocha frappe to Jill, his hair artist. “I asked for a vanilla latte. If you suffer from memory loss, you’d better visit your doctor once we get back to US.”

What an asshole. Mary, who was now applying some makeup on Sebastian’s face with her beauty blenders and brushes, bit down on her lip: she had been watching how he treated you for the last 3 weeks, and it was a living nightmare. It was very odd since Sebastian was on good terms with pretty much everyone around, but you were always an exception. Why? Neither Mary nor Jill could tell. There was nothing revolting in the way you behaved around Mr. Stan, simply doing your job as his assistant. You were getting him coffee every morning, buying some personal stuff for him, managing his meetings… but you were more an errand girl, that’s true. It was surprising for most of the other people surrounding you two, but you didn’t object to your tasks. You were furious because of the way Sebastian treated you.

He was mean, unfair, irritating, and rude. You didn’t deserve it.

“Well, my voice recorder tells I got everything right.” You pulled it from the pocket of your below-knee sheath skirt, ready to press the button.

“What the fuck is that?” The man rose to his feet immediately, almost pushing frozen Mary out of his way and stepping towards you. “How many times do I have to tell you? NO. FUCKING. RECORDERS.”

He was ready to snatch it from your hands, yet you were able dodge him right on time, hiding the recorder in your pocket again.

“Ok, ok, I’m sorry, I’ll put it away!” In a second you were behind Jill’s tall figure as if you were a child hiding from a bad-tempered parent, Sebastian watching you with anger in his cold blue eyes. “I’m not going to use it. But it’s still true, you asked for caramel cappuccino.”

“Guess what? I don’t fucking care.” He growled in a low voice. “You’ll go and get me vanilla latte because it’s your goddamn job. And I want my coffee before Jill’s finished with my hair, understood?”

Watching his with clear disdain on your face, you cursed under your breath. It was freaking hot in Prague where Sebastian was filming now and getting out the second time just to run to Starbucks once more would sure ruin both your makeup and a white blouse you had been wearing. Damn it.

“God, why do you have to be such a bastard most of the time?” You snapped at him, visibly shaking with fury. “What the hell is wrong with you? Are you a closet psycho or what?”

“I’m the one who pays you, honey.” He smiled at you the same way he always did it in front of the camera and you felt sick.

You stormed off the room without having a glance back at his perfect white teeth. Sebastian Stan was the worst person you had ever met, and you were working for him, seeing him every day and listening to his orders as if you were his pet. How did it come to this? Why did he look like the most perfect human being to you six months ago? What made him behave like that to you when in reality it was him who offered you a job?

God, it was all messed up. You did not remember when things got so bad you could yell at each other in a full voice. It was actually surprising, someone like you shouting and swearing at one of the world’s most famous actors, but it was something Sebastian let you do. Like he wanted you to scream at him regardless who surrounded you whether it was his makeup artists, agents, cleaning ladies or anyone else. It was like he got off on it.

True, this job payed well, much better than the one you had before. Moreover, in these 6 months you saw more countries than you did in your entire life, travelling with Sebastian everywhere and meeting tons of new people, many of them being great professionals. It was inspiring; it made you dream of all the things you thought were impossible; it made you curious and gave you a chance to practice your networking skills.

But Sebastian was fucking blowing it. After six months of constant everyday battles filled with rage and pure hatred you had gained weight, 10 pounds to be precise. Now you were having problems to sleep, and you knew it wasn’t the jet lag.

Anyway, you spent the whole day running around the city to buy him this or that. In the evening you were so tired you could barely move your legs while Sebastian was clearly pleased seeing you like that. It probably stroked his enormous ego.

Fuck it. You didn’t deserve a minute of it. You were not going to let him ruin you for fun, just because he could it since he payed you. Why did you spend you precious time trying to please him? Sure, you still considered him one of the best actors on the planet, but the things he did to you were not ok. He wasn’t ok. Maybe he really was a psycho or had some disorder he didn’t want to treat, you had no idea. But you knew it couldn’t continue like that. It was too much.

You spent an hour writing an email and asking to be laid off. It was just a few lines, simple and professional, yet you were constantly adding and then erasing new sentences. You shouldn’t make it personal, you thought to yourself. You doubted you could leave on agreeable terms, but you needed to give it a try. Even if your last argument with Mr. Stan might be the worst of them all, it would be your last one. It was worth it.

Sighing, you decided to take a stroll before going to bed. 15 minutes wouldn’t hurt, right? You’d have some fresh air and enjoy the view of Prague’s Powder Gate – you were lucky to stay right in the center of this magnificent old city. You could make some more photos to show your friends once you return back home. It was also nice to just sit on a bench and look at the night sky full of stars.

Maybe then you wouldn’t feel so guilty for leaving Sebastian and your team.

In the end, it took you way more that 15 minutes, but your late-night walk made your thoughts clear and left no regrets about your choice. What was happening between you and Sebastian wasn’t right, and you could do nothing but leave. With so many people wishing to work for him he would get another assistant in a matter of hours, and you would get your life back. Those money you earned would keep you afloat quiet some time even if you wouldn’t be able to get a job right away.

“What is this, Y/N?”

His voice almost made you jump. Sebastian stood up from the chair in the corner of your room once you put on the lights. What the Hell was he doing here so late? How did he open the door? If he needed anything, he could simply give you a call.

Oh. You saw your little black recorder in his hand.

“I told you I won’t use it anymore.” Your jaw clenched.

“I’m not talking about this piece of shit.”

He tossed your recorder on your bed as if he couldn’t care less and moved towards you so fast you had no time to step back.

“What is this pathetic email you wrote?” Sebastian’s handsome face darkened. “Are you not right in the head? You want to leave?”

“Yes, I do. What’s wrong with that?” Your expression hardened. He dared to touch your laptop when you weren’t there. “I thought you’d be glad to know. Today you told me three times I didn’t deserve working for you, correct?”

“You know perfectly well I wasn’t serious.”

“God, I have a hard time telling when you’re serious since all you do is hating me.”

He sent you an icy glare.

“You know I don’t hate you. You just happen to bring the worst in me, dear.”

There he was again. God, were you going to have this argument right now when you were deadly tired? You hoped it could wait till tomorrow, but it was clearly not your luckiest day.

“If you want to blame me again, it’s ok. I’m the worst one. I’m a bad person and a terrible assistant.” You squeezed your eyes shut and sighed again, scratching your forehead. “I get it. What I don’t get is why you aren’t happy I’m leaving.”

“Because I don’t want you to leave. If I really hated you so much, I’d already found another assistant, but I don’t want that.”

“Listen, let’s stop playing our games just for a few minutes.” This conversation made you feel even more exhausted. “We don’t get along. You don’t like me. Why do we torment each other? I don’t even remember the last time we had a regular conversation without shouting and cursing.”

“I’m not playing games with you, dear. You do.” He had already cornered you, his face determined and somewhat unsettling. “What do you want? A raise? More benefits?”

You were ready to yell at him again.

“Did you listen to what I just said? I want to leave. I want to come home and forget about all our horrible fights. I want to have a steady and boring job back in US. Do you understand?”

“NO, I DON’T!” The man screamed at you again, and now you suddenly felt his arms clenching your shoulders painfully and winced from his touch. “I already told you to stop toying with me! After all this shameless flirting and batting your eyes you wanna tell me you’re leaving? Do you think I’m so stupid to believe in this bullshit?”

It took you a few seconds to process his words. What? Flirting? Well, you did consider him handsome and charming, who on Earth didn’t, but you had never pulled anything like that. At first, it was because of your professionalism, and then your relationships escalated so fast you knew that he hated you and you hated him. What Sebastian had been even talking about?

You felt very aware how close he was once you felt his heavy breath on your face. He never did this before.

“Listen, I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I want to leave. That’s all.” You tried pushing him back with your hands against his chest. “Please, let me go. I need to… t-to go to the kitchen.”

“You’re going nowhere, dear.” His expression darkened. “Tell me the truth. You don’t want me to treat you like my assistant? I get it, I get it, it’s fine. I can treat you like my girl in front of everyone if that’s what you want.”

“No! I – “

His put his hand on your mouth immediately, leaning in closer.

“It’s ok, I understand. I grew tired of pretending like nothing happens between us, too. You want me to let everyone now? It’s ok. I’ll post our photo on Instagram tomorrow. Is this what you want? Is this what you want?”

You tried to scream, but his grip on you was too strong as if Sebastian was really some kind of super soldier. Desperately trying to wriggle free you only got him to hold you tighter, his soft lips all over your face already wet with tears.

“It’s ok, dear. I got it.” He shushed you, trying to keep your arms together with his hand and pushing his knee in between your legs. “I’m sorry it took me so long. I understand now, so you don’t have to go. You won’t go, will you?”

You couldn’t answer him even if you wanted to.

[lockefanfic]

Callsign

War never changes.

There were times, though, when you found it difficult to believe the pilot of this particular plane could live up to such a fearsome lineage. You glance up at the closed canopy, and the name emblazoned there in gold paint, along with her infamous callsign: LT. E. JUNG - “KAR-”

“You want to tell my why the fuck the starboard nacelle is still acting up on shallow banks, Chief?”

Even before you turn to face the speaker, you knew who it would be - her voice was one you’d grown to know well over your past few years aboard the UNS Busan. It was a wonderful, musical voice with a hint of a countryside accent, and you knew personally from more than one drunken karaoke session in the pilots’ lounge that she had a great singing voice - unfortunately for you, she usually used that voice to whine about something on her plane.

You sigh once more before you turn and face her, steeling yourself for yet another confrontation.

“I’ve already told you, Lieutenant Jung - the readouts don’t display anything out of the ordinary. I’ve taken that thing apart and put it back together twice, and couldn’t find any issues in the parts or the way they go together. It’s all in your head.”

You turn away from her and continue to walk down the sleek fuselage of the fighter, your fingertips once again tracing its outer shell the same way an owner would touch a close pet. Your fingertips lightly graze its anti-radar, anti-cyberwarfare, anti-everything skin, as though apologizing for the way its pilot treated it.

“It’s all in your head, Lieutenant!” she corrects, following closely behind you, anger still prevalent in her tone. “All I’m asking for is for my goddamn bird to be able to bank without sounding like it’s got fucking spacelung.”

“I’ll get someone to give it another look, but I’m telling ya, there’s nothing wrong with it.”

Another glare. If she weren’t so intensely beautiful at the same time, you’d think she was about to explode.

---

The F-121 Raptor III was a thing of beauty.

Its sleek lines and curves gave it the impression of a hawk or eagle, always crouched, muscles tensed, ready to leap into the sky at a moment’s notice to swoop in on its unsuspecting prey and snatch it up with its talons before flying off somewhere to feast. In years gone by, the previous versions of this warplane did just that, dancing in the endless blue of Earth’s sky, swooping in with guided missiles and rotary cannons instead of talons - every bit as dangerous as the birds of prey that were its namesake.

The Raptor III carried on the legacy of its forefathers - but the vast darkness of space was its playground now, and it did its hunting not with talons or missiles, but with focused energy weapons and kinetic projectile accelerators. Laser beams and gatling guns, in other words.

The theatre and weapons of war have changed, but some things never do. In some long forgotten text someone wiser than you once put perfect words to that sentiment: war; war never changes. 

In the early 21st century it was long thought that fighter pilots were on their last legs. Drones and AI were the future, they all said, and soon pilots would be reduced to sitting on their asses thousands of miles away from the battlefield, controlling their planes with joysticks and keyboards, looking for all intents and purposes like they were playing the fanciest (and most expensive) video game on Earth instead of remote piloting multibillion dollar aircraft and dropping very real, very destructive bombs on the other side of the planet.

But networked drones, it turned out, could be hacked. 

And so despite the thousands of years of collective human technology and the billions of credits that each of these modern day hawks took to make - they still needed pilots.

Gradually, as hackers and anti-drone cyberwarfare became more and more prevalent, pilots found themselves taking back to the skies. The human brain, afterall, couldn’t be hacked; at least, not yet. And so, a full two centuries after the first F-22 Raptor fired its weapons in anger, the newest version of it still needed a pilot. Without it, this magnificent creation, the very pinnacle of human technology and advancement, was only so much useless metal trash. Just as the knights of old turned domestic farm horses into fearsome weapons of war, so the knights of today turned these magnificent machines into instruments of destruction.

War never changes.

There were times, though, when you found it difficult to believe the pilot of this particular plane could live up to such a fearsome lineage. You glance up at the closed canopy, and the name emblazoned there in gold paint, along with her infamous callsign: LT. E. JUNG - “KAR-”

“You want to tell my why the fuck the starboard nacelle is still acting up on shallow banks, Chief?”

Even before you turn to face the speaker, you knew who it would be - her voice was one you’d grown to know well over your past few years aboard the UNS Busan. It was a wonderful, musical voice with a hint of a countryside accent, and you knew personally from more than one drunken karaoke session in the pilots’ lounge that she had a great singing voice - unfortunately for you, she usually used that voice to whine about something on her plane.

You sigh once more before you turn and face her, steeling yourself for yet another confrontation.

“I’ve already told you, Lieutenant Jung - the readouts don’t display anything out of the ordinary. I’ve taken that thing apart and put it back together twice, and couldn’t find any issues in the parts or the way they go together. It’s all in your head.”

You turn away from her and continue to walk down the sleek fuselage of the fighter, your fingertips once again tracing its outer shell the same way an owner would touch a close pet. Your fingertips lightly graze its anti-radar, anti-cyberwarfare, anti-everything skin, as though apologizing for the way its pilot treated it.

“It’s all in your head, Lieutenant!” she corrects, following closely behind you, anger still prevalent in her tone. “All I’m asking for is for my goddamn bird to be able to bank without sounding like it’s got fucking spacelung.”

“I’ll get someone to give it another look, but I’m telling ya, there’s nothing wrong with it.”

Another glare. If she weren’t so intensely beautiful at the same time, you’d think she was about to explode.

“...Lieutenant,” you finish, turning away once more to follow the fuselage of the plane towards its rear. When you reach the rear of it you give it one last pat on its vectored thrust outtake.

“I swear to god, all you grease monkies do around here is dick around on your PlayStation 22s while I’m up there flying in a bucket of bolts-”

You turn immediately on your heel and face her.

“Don’t you dare call her a bucket of bolts… Lieutenant.”

Lieutenant Jung seethes - her nostrils flare, her eyes widen, and her cheeks puff up; but she still looked intensely adorable, like some anime girl from the ‘flix come to life. If she were trying to look intimidating or angry, she was failing. Either way, you’d had enough with her demands, and you begin to walk away towards the crew offices adjacent to the hangar.

“We’re not done here, Chief!” Lieutenant Jung shouts after you, the loud clang of her flight boots on the hangar deck telling you she was stomping her way behind you, “You’re gonna tell me what the fuck it’ll take to get my bird flying smoothly, or I swear to god I’ll take this straight to the CAG!”

“Go ahead,” you say with a dismissive wave behind you, “the CAG owes me from poker last week. I wonder what side he’ll take?”

Lieutenant Jung lets out a wordless, frustrated sound leave her throat as you push open the door to your office. She stomps in after you and shuts the door.

Then she turns, drops her flight helmet on the floor and grabs you by the face with both hands before crushing her lips to yours in a deep, passionate kiss.

It was wrong on so many levels - she was a pilot and you a crew chief, she was an officer and you were enlisted, she was a spacer and you were born on Earth - but there was no denying the passion that existed between you. The intensity of it only flared up immediately after she flew CAP or went out on sortie, returning to the Busan all hopped up on pilot stimms and adrenaline. All she wanted after each flight was a shower, a beer, and your cock between her legs - and not necessarily in that order, and sometimes even at the same time.

Both of your pairs of hands work with a frenzied pace at each others’ clothes - her long, dainty fingers working the buttons of your overalls while your paws, still greasy with engine oil, work on the straps and buckles of her flight suit. It was a race she won more often than not; pilots obviously wore a ton more equipment on their persons than deck chiefs. And so while she had succeeded in getting the top half of your overalls off, you had just finished getting her flight rig undone.

She shakes off the heavy webbing from her shoulders, and she takes it upon herself to start to unzip the flightsuit zipper at her collarbone.

“You need to get faster at that, Chief.”

“You need to wear less, Eunji.”

The response is a smile at your use of her first name - a smile that is so dazzling it made the stars you’d spent so many hours staring at on the observation deck look pale by comparison. In your quieter moments, alone in bed together on those rare occasions when your off-duty hours matched, you’d mentioned once that you thought her callsign should be “Sunshine”; to match that thousand watt smile of hers. She’d giggled it off and said that pilots didn’t choose their callsign; it was given to them by other pilots. She’d said “Sunshine” sounded stupid, and not threatening or deadly the way pilot callsigns were supposed to be.

Nonetheless, when you gave her a small necklace with a small golden sun on it for her birthday, she wore it every day since, right next to her dog tags.

The necklace shone now in the artificial light of your office as she strips out of her flight suit, revealing a sweat soaked white tank top beneath that clung to her form like a second skin, and the delightful absence of a bra beneath it. Her skin, her perfect, vanilla skin, shines faintly with a sheen of her sweat, making her glisten. Her nipples poke invitingly from her chest, plain to see beneath the thin material of her tank top.

You can’t wait a moment later, and you give her a brief but passionate kiss before diving into her neck, planting kisses on the softness there, enjoying the taste of her sweat on your lips and tongue. She lets a soft, musical sound escape her lips - she had a great singing voice, but now, when the sounds escaping her are wordless gasps of lust and need, her voice sounded utterly sublime.

You reach a hand to her side, enjoying the feel of her tight, toned midsection before quickly reaching up her torso to fondle her left breast. You enjoy the feel of her soft mound in your hand and the rapidly hardening nipple poking through her tank top, and you smile against her neck even as her voice fills your ears with yet another wordless sound of pleasure.

You are content to spend a few more minutes playing with her body, enjoying the feel of her melting into your hands and mouth, but she is impatient, needy, still high from the adrenaline of her recent flight; she needed more, and needed it now.

She grasps the bottom of her tank top before pulling it over her head, leaving her naked from the waist up aside from the shiny metal of her dog tags and the gold of her sun pendant. The sun hangs a little lower than the dog tags, resting between her small, round breasts, and you smile at the symmetry of it.

“Stop staring and suck on them, Chief,” she says, with the same tone as if she were giving you an order.

“Right away, Lieutenant,” you answer with a mocking tone. She opens her mouth to answer, but the breath is stolen from her lungs when you bring both hands up to her naked breasts, squeezing both before capturing her left nipple in your lips. You involuntarily take a few steps forward, and soon you are pressing her against the closed door to your office. She sighs softly, wrapping her arms around your neck and pushing her chest out, standing on her tiptoes to make it easier on your bent back - all in an effort to give you better access to her wanton, needy body.

She loved it when you sucked on her breasts; nothing got her off quicker, got her more in the mood. She loved it when you drifted a hand between her legs, loved when you ate her out; but nothing got her as hot and bothered as when you played with those small, round, perfectly shaped mounds, and the perfect, tight little nipples atop each one.

“Smaller tits are more sensitive,” she’d told you once, and from the way she gasped and writhed and quivered with each lick and suck and nibble you placed on her breasts, you were inclined to believe her.

But you wanted more, wanted to put her in her place for the way she told you off in the hangar in front of your entire deck crew - even if you thought you did a pretty good job of standing up for yourself. She was so bratty sometimes, so needy, that it satisfied you to no end whenever you had your way with her behind closed doors. She couldn’t behind her rank when it came to sex.

You tear your mouth away from her chest, eliciting a groan of disappointment from the pilot. Her eyes glazed over and half-lidded with pleasure, she grasps you by the shoulder before turning you around and pushing you against the door to your office, resulting in a louder crash than you were expecting. A small part of you hoped no one happened to hear it, but a larger part of you couldn’t care less, not when Lieutenant Jung drops to her knees, peels your dirty overalls off your body, and gives your hard, stiff shaft a lick from base to tip.

It was such an erotic sight - the haughty, proud, cocky pilot on her knees with a cock on her lips - that it drove you insane each and every time you saw it. You reach down and run a hand through her hair, grazing her cheek. Her lips are busy planting soft kisses on your hard shaft, but her eyes tell you need to know about what she wanted.

“Fuck my face, Chief.”

Another soft kiss, another long, slow lick of your cock.

“...that’s an order.”

You were never one to defy orders - especially not ones like this. And so when the lieutenant takes the head of your aching, stiff shaft inbetween her lips and braces herself against you with her palms flat against your thighs, you prepare yourself to execute the order you are given.

Slowly at first, but soon building to a quick pace, you slide your shaft in and out of Lieutenant Jung’s needy mouth. Your hands grasp the back and side of the pilot’s head as you fuck her mouth, her tongue swirling devilishly all over your shaft with each entry and exit. 

“Mmmmffmfm,” she mumbles, the sound sending wonderful vibrations onto your cock as is slides in and out of her slick, hot mouth. 

You gasp, involuntarily, at the pleasure that is quickly building at your core, and you tear your eyes away from the delicious sight in front of you and try to focus on something, anything else to keep from cumming too soon. But the desire to retrieve some measure of revenge for the way she treated you outside closed doors, the way she was so bratty and demanding out in public - it drove you to fuck that mouth of hers a little harder, a litte rougher than you were expecting. There was some perverse satisfaction to be found in taking a mouth that was usually filled with complaints and filling it with cock.

Eunji got off on it too - on the roughness and disregard for her general needs that you showed during sex. Perhaps she got off on the reversal of power and her newfound helplessness. Maybe she just loved rough sex. Either way, you weren’t one to complain.

For long, beautiful minutes you stand there, thrusting your hard cock in and out of Lieutenant Jung Eunji’s mouth. After awhile she looks up at you with those large, round eyes of hers that were somehow so innocent and so mischievous all at the same time - and for you that was it, that was the end of your patience. You had to have her, had to have all of her.

You practically tear the girl’s needy mouth from your shaft, her lips still sucking tightly on your cock as she lets out a little whimper of disappointment. Her whimper soon turns into a wanton gasp, however, when you pull the previously haughty pilot from her knees on the floor and push her towards your desk.

Eunji knows what this is, knows what you intend to do, and the pilot quickly pulls down her flightsuit until it is past her round, full ass of hers and halfway down her thighs. 

Lieutenant Jung Eunji’s ass was on another level - round and full and tight, it was perhaps her most attractive feature, aside from that blindingly bright smile, of course. Her thick pilot’s flightsuit did little to hide her assets, and you caught yourself more than once watching, dumbfounded, as her wide-set hips swayed and swung when she walked away from you, those  round cheeks so full, so inviting, so perfectly shaped it all too often made slack-jawed fools out of you and every other man on the hangar deck.

She didn’t wear panties, either. Too hot and sweaty in the cockpit, she told you once, and they had a tendency to ride up into her nether regions every time she twisted and turned in her seat. The sight of that perfect little ass and wide hips of hers, naked now, uncovered by some flimsy piece of underwear, all sweaty and tight…

You want to be inside her, want to fill the needy little girl with all of you, but you manage to gather enough self control to tease her, make her beg for it. Her display of arrogance out in the hangar, the gall she had to call you out for her plane’s perceived problems - it made you want to retaliate.

You press yourself against her, your stiff shaft, still moist with her spit, pressing between the two large, full cheeks of her ass, your hands reaching out to caress those wide hips of hers. You give her a few small strokes, enjoying the feel of her perfect butt cradling each side of your cock.

“Do you want this, Lieutenant?” you ask, mockingly.

“Fuck yes, Chief.”

“I don’t know if I want to fuck you, given how much of an annoying little brat you’ve been.”

Eunji lets out a gasp of equal parts frustration and need.

“I.. fuck, Chief! Just put it in me.”

“No. Beg for it.”

“What?”

“Fucking beg for this cock, Lieutenant.”

Eunji moans, a sound that would have been soft and musical were it not loaded with lust and need.

“Mmmm fucking stick your cock in me, Chief. Fuck me with that cock. Fuck me and make me moan and make me cum all over your dick. Fuck me until you fill me with cum and-”

Eunji’s words are cut off as you thrust yourself inside her, her small body pressed forward against the desk. When she regains her breath she lets a long, drawn out moan of pleasure hiss from her lips as she adjusts to the full, stiff shaft that she has suddenly been filled with. Her pussy is soft and warm and slick and you want to let out a gasp of your own, but you hold back - you didn’t want to give her that satisfaction.

You start fucking her, with hard, smooth strokes, her drenched pussy having no problem accepting each thrust into her tight little body. Normally you would have slipped inside her slowly, given her time to adjust to you before slowly ramping up the speed and depth of your thrusts - but not today, not when she was acting the way she was. Not when she needed to be put into her place.

“Oh, fuck, fuck that feels good…. Oh fuck, you’re so fucking big inside me,” Eunji gasps, having found the breath to vocalise her pleasure now. Her hands search for something on the desk to grasp as an outlet for her pleasure, but she fails to find anything, and she settles for digging her fingernails as deeply as she could into the wooden surface.

Fucking the cocky pilot from behind on your desk would have been enough, and you would have gladly continued doing so until you filled her with the cum she so desperately wanted - but you wanted more, wanted to truly put her into her place.

You push on her sweaty back with an open palm until her torso is flat on the desk, and taking her right arm, you bend it behind her and hold it against her back by the wrist. You take her left arm with your own and, grasping it by the wrist, use it to pull the rest of her body back as you thrust forward with your cock.

It is a position of pure power and dominance, and you watch delightfully as Eunji squirms and writhes beneath you on the desk, helpless to do anything but take your cock as you fuck her hard over your desk. You worry slightly about hurting her, but the gasps and moans and filthy words that soon escape her mouth convince you she’s more than okay with the way she is being treated.

“Fuck yes, Chief… ohh, unggh! Fuck me, fuck me just like that… fuck me!”

“Do you like it, Lieutenant? You like being bent over a desk and fucked like this?” you spit, your words punctuated by the sound of your hips slapping against hers.

“Fuck… fuck yes! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me… Fuck me however you want. Fuck me like your personal slut!”

The sight of the haughty young lieutenant, so proud and cocky out on the deck, reduced to a writhing, hot, wet mess as she is bent over and fucked roughly - it is enough to drive you insane. The pleasure quickly building in your loins as you fuck the mewling woman worries you with the speed of its build up.

“Fuck… you’re so fucking… tight, Lieutenant. Fuck… you’re gonna make me fucking cum soon.”

“No!” Eunji hisses, surprising you. She squirms roughly, her strength taking you by surprise as she wriggles out of the hold you have on her body. She pushes back against you, and your shaft slips out of her, glistening and dripping with her juices.

Eunji practically rips her flightsuit off, tearing the one piece suit off her long, sweat-drenched legs, leaving her only in her white tank top, which she peels from her torso. She hops quickly onto the desk, spreading her legs and grasping your slick cock with her right hand and quite literally using it as a handle to pull you between her thighs.

“You’re going to fuck me, Chief, and you’re going to fuck me until I cum first,” she hisses, the intensity on her face hard to deny - her eyes are tense and filled with intent and need. There is an anger in those dark brown pools as well, as though she is upset with the possibility that she could be denied the release she so desperately craved.

She points the head of your shaft at her splayed, pink lips of her pussy, and with her hands on your hips she pulls you towards her until you fill her once more with your cock.

You find yourself almost immediately fighting a battle you weren’t sure you could win, thrusting in and out of Eunji’s slick, wet pussy as she lies back on the desk, her perfect, sweaty, almost naked form laid out for you, each thrust of your cock resulting in a delightful shock to her body, giving her round breasts and full thighs a soft bounce each time.

She has so quickly reversed who held the power - mere seconds before you were the one in control, fucking her submissive little body from behind as she begged and pleaded for it; now you were the one trying your best to hold on as she took what she needed from you.

Eunji reaches down between your bodies to quickly find her clit. She swiftly begins to swirl a fingertip around the sensitive bud - even as your cock slips and in and out of her body not so far away. You spend a few wonderful seconds watching as your slick, glistening cock fucks her needy, hot pussy - and her fingers, so close to her splayed pink lips, rubbing her tight bud. 

You raise your head from the wonderful sight to find that her eyes have been locked on yours the whole time. There is need and lust in those eyes, nothing more, nothing less.

Her mouth is frozen in an open “o” as she lets breathless gasps and moans escape her lips, her brow furrowed, her eyes pleading for more and more and more. Her fingertips increase their pace between her spread thighs, and her free hand claws at your wrist, her nails digging almost painfully into your skin. Inside her, she is tightening and pulsating around you, her slick walls wrapping themselves even tighter around your thrusting cock…

“Oh… oh fuck, I’m gonna... fucking cum,” she spits, her tone almost afraid, almost fearful of the amount of pleasure that was about to come. And you are thankful, because you were so deliciously close to that same peak yourself. Her fingers work quicker and quicker against her clit, swirling her slick juices around her sensitive bud as she comes closer and closer to the edge.

“Cum for me, Eunji,” you reply, all thought of rank cast aside - this was just two people pursuing pleasure, and nothing else mattered.

“I… Oh, I...oh!” Eunji gasps, and suddenly her body stiffens and quivers and shakes atop the table as her orgasm overtakes every inch of her being. The sight of her as she cums is the last straw for you - her pulsating, tightening pussy overcomes the last of your resistance and you follow Jung Eunji into the bliss of orgasm, driving yourself as deep as you can inside her before you release stream after thick stream of your thick, hot cum into her needy pussy.

Eunji draws you close as you cum, letting a soft, almost vulnerable moan escape her open mouth with each stream of semen that leaves your cock and splashes against her walls. She had a filthy mouth during sex, loved to tell you in vulgar detail what she wanted to do or wanted done to her. You’d heard her moan and gasp of lust and need plenty of times, but it is the soft, vulnerable little whimpers when you cum inside her that you treasure the most.

For long seconds you stay inside her as your respective orgasms wind down, both of your bodies recovering from the exertion with heavy breaths and gasps. Eventually you slip out of her, and a not insignificant stream of white semen drips from the splayed lips of her pussy.

Eunji watches the cum drip out of her with interest, biting her lip. She always loved it, always wanted you to cum inside her for this reason. And you loved watching her watch.

“Job well done, Chief,” she says, eyes still glued to the mess you made inside her as it drips onto your desk. 

A few minutes pass as you both clean up after yourselves. You retrieve a few tissues from your desk which Eunji uses to clean up the mess between her thighs as you both slowly put your uniforms back on. It was awkward sometimes, immediately after sex, as you both come back, reluctantly, to reality - but when she gives you a sheepish smile after zipping up her flight suit, you couldn’t help but smile back. 

She steps out into the hallway, back towards the deck, and as you close the door to your office you couldn’t help but notice how it looked a little darker, a little more dim without Jung Eunji’s presence. She was light, she was sunshine, and when she left the room she took her light with her.

You accompany her back to the hangar deck - her bunk was on the other side of the ship, and you needed to get back to work on her bird, anyway.

When you both reach her Raptor, your fingers reach out and graze its fuselage once more, like an owner returning to its pet after a day’s work. You could almost imagine it being happy to see you again.

“I’ll be back early tomorrow to check up on your work,” Lieutenant Jung says, with just a hint of that thousand watt smile on her lips. “Good work today, Chief.”

“Thanks. Have a good night, Sunshine.”

Her smile widens briefly, and while you hadn’t ever in your life had the pleasure of setting foot on Earth, you imagine that that was what it must have felt like to have a ray of sun set upon you. You let her walk away, cradling her pilot helmet under one arm. 

Her hips, and the perfectly sculpted cheeks of that ass of hers, sway alluringly with each step she takes. You knew for a fact your eyes weren’t the only ones glued onto the young pilot’s swaying butt as she walks the width of the hangar and disappears into one of the adjoining corridors.

With a smile, you glance back up at her plane, and the gold lettering near the canopy where her name and callsign are emblazoned. She never told you how or when she got her callsign -  only that it was the name of some well endowed celebrity from old Earth.

LT. E. JUNG - “KARDASHIAN.”

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Author’s Note: Trying something new here with the sci-fi backstory. I think any fans of Battlestar Galactica (the remake) would know where I got the inspiration. I had the biggest crush on Boomer... ;)