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tteokdoroki · 3 years

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had it | k.bakugou.

♡ pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader.

♡ word count: 4.5K

♡ rating: everyone.

♡ genre: pro hero!au, married!au, fluff, comfort.

♡ summary: your pro hero husband is a show off, always has and always will be... but when his big ego gets in the way of you doing your job, you give him little piece of your mind..

♡ warning(s): please read ! mentions of violence, i gave reader a quirk?? bakugou with a daughter ok literally nothing. oh and angst if you squint.

♡ author’s note(s): hi besties!! happy birthday to meee!! today i’m dropping a fic that’s been a long time coming, its a short and fluffy little piece with domestic baku bc i love him with babies n kids ok ok!! i hope you all have a lovely day <3

♡ masterlist | requests | kofi

some say that working for a pro hero is an honour, no matter what the position is. some may work behind the scenes— creating gear and suits that support the pros protecting their cities or livelihoods. others are in charge of things like reports, PR and even physical health. everyone plays an important role in a hero's career. there’s never a dull moment working in a team supporting the pros, especially if that pro was dynamight.

the offices for katsuki bakugou’s hero agency were always buzzing; usually because the clean up team were rushing through with stacks upon stacks of receipts and paperwork from the damage done during bakugou’s patrols— other times it would be his secretaries gossiping about how good he looks in his winter costume because damn did that tight black shirt do his arms justice but usually it was just because of the PR team contacting media outlets with excuses for bakugou’s potty mouth.

working for the hot headed blonde was more laid back than it seemed however, the man himself was rarely ever in the office as the number two hero but out on missions instead, the pay was pretty decent and no one ever really faced his angry wrath nor his sailor like mouth unless they had royally fucked up on their job. katsuki bakugou was someone to admire, he never gave a damn about what people had to say about him— he only cared about getting the job done and maybe that’s why most people enjoyed their time under the dynamight agency.

particularly this time, right around noon.

the doors to the floor of the secretary offices fly open, crashing loudly against the walls and drawing the staff from their daily work. this office space is around ten floors up and somehow you’ve made it in record time today. “where is he?” your voice crawls through the entrance of the room, settling over the workers like a thick fog— commanding, menacing and soft all at the same time. newbies cower in their boots, confused at what’s going on and it’s safe to presume those who have been working here for years have yet to give them the run down. “don’t make me ask again.” you add, eyes darkening as you cast your gaze across the room.

an intern approaches you, visibly shaking with fear which makes you loosen your stance and raise an eyebrow toward them. “he-uh... he just went for his lunch break—“ the stutter, gulping under the stare of another highly ranked pro hero. “in his...office— ma’am!” they stumble through their words, hiding behind the ungodly amount of paperwork that's been dumped into their hands. you make a mental note to chew bakugou out on the load his interns have been getting as well as your prior reasons for coming to his agency.

nonetheless you shake your head and drop the frown, a sweet smile quickly replacing the look that could put anyone six feet under if you really tried. with a tap to the side of your head, the visor to your hero costume rises above your eyes— allowing you to give the poor little intern a cheeky wink as thanks. “‘ppreciate it darling, have a good one!” you thank them properly with a ruffle to their hair, resuming your previous stance as you march the rest of the way through the office and kick open the door at the end of the room.

the intern sags, a whimper of relief passing from tired lips while they wipe at the sweat forming on their brow. they’d not even encountered their boss yet and they’d already come face to face with a top pro hero. “w-what’s her deal?”

a chuckle to the left of the poor kid startles them out of their mind; but they relax upon realising it’s just another one of dynamight’s secretaries— haruto, who’d apparently been working at the agency since it started up. “that’s nightsky, her quirk is lullaby, which allows her to control certain people if she hits the right note. she can also put them to sleep, if she really wants to,” the intern now perks up, remembering you from countless interviews on tv. you ranked pretty highly too, managing to the reach the top five this year along with others like shoto and deku. “she owns the hero agency across the street, herself and dynamight have been going at it ever since. it’s like they’re elderly lovers or somethin‘.”

“d-do you think they are? lovers like you say?” the intern asks a little too excitedly, touching at their messy hair from where you’d ruffled it. a crimson blush warms their cheeks, the idea of two pros playing enemies to the public eye but being lovers in secret seemed like something right out of a romance novel. how romantic.

haruto only chuckles at the newbie, standing to ruffle their hair as well before heading over to the coffee stand to fix himself a cup. “beats me,” he mumbles cheerily as he walks away, arms crossed behind his head. “but with the way yn bursts in here at the same time everyday to scold bakugou, and leaves with a huge smile on her face— i wouldn’t put it past them. they probably have a whole life together.” he taps his nose once as if he’s given away too much information, turning away without a word.

the intern hums, seemingly happy with their superior’s answer and easily heads back to work from there.

katsuki bakugou was bored out of his mind.

being a successful pro hero was all he’d ever wanted— being the number two pro hero just came with that. bakugou wanted to get to the top and show everyone he was the best of the best and with him being blessed with a powerful quirk there was no way he couldn’t be where he was today. yet, now that he’d finally achieved his dream all he wanted was a fucking break. the blonde stares down at his microwaveable bowl of home cooked stew, a frown cutting deep into his cheeks. it was his lunch break for crying out loud, but instead of scarfing down the delicious meal before him, the hero was forced to watch it cool as some dumb fuck reporter asked him questions over the phone.

the telephone interview ( or a waste of his fucking time, as katsuki had called it ) , had been set up by his PR team right after he’d taken down a couple low level villains downtown earlier this morning. katsuki had called it nothing but apparently the whole world and their mother had been on his ass, watching as he took the criminals down with ease and raving about how glorious dynamight was during that fight. the reporter drones on about said event, asking the same old questions and it takes everything within the hot headed pro not to blow a casket— he’d been promised a few extra days off from his manager if he could finish the interview without blowing something up and only god knew how much katsuki needed a break from dumb paps and some overly obsessive fans.

‘so, final question, how does it feel to be the number two?’

bakugou grunts, buying himself time to formulate an answer. what he really wants to do is kindly tell the reporter to fuck off and ask more original questions; but with the prize of a longer weekend hanging in the balance he bites his tongue for the sake of freedom. “well i—“

“katsuki bakugou.” your voice cuts through his sentence before he can finish, vermillion eyes land on your hero costume clad form as you burst into his office. a lazy smirk now decorates the hero’s lips, brow quirked with piqued interest. “i have a bone to pick with you, you motherfucker.”

the reporter on the other end falls silent as katsuki watches you, leaning back in his plush leather chair. you look slightly disheveled, costume torn in a few places, scrapes littering your skin as you pant heavily from exertion— chest rising and falling with every breath, it seems ragged and bakugou makes a mental note to remind you to get your ribs checked out later. “you’re late, shitty woman.” the number two sits up a little straighter as you enter the room, leaning up to look at you while you slam your hands down on the smooth marble desk— the force rattling the items he has neatly placed on it.

‘uh-? mister...dynamight-? sir?’

your eyes sweep the room while the pro before you deals with the reporter, mentioning to her that they’ll have to continue their call later. in the meantime, you note that katsuki’s office is meticulously clean, not a single book, folder or pen out of place— it’s high up with a perfect view of the city and the large windows allow golden beams of the sun to light up the room. the sound of a phone being placed back on its hook brings you from your thoughts; annoyance settling deep in your veins as you turn to face bakugou again.

“i had it,” you growl lowly, jumping the gun before he can even register what you’ve said. “i’m a grown woman, katsuki, i can handle a couple of criminals myself, you know.”

the blasting hero does nothing but smirk even wider at the irked tone that litters your voice, standing up as well to tower over you. bakugou still wears his own hero costume, considerably in less damage than yours— not a single tear had formed in his suit, mind the small scratches on his face no doubt from his stupid explosions creating some debris. leaning over the desk between you, bakugou uses a forefinger and thumb to tilt your head up, bringing you even closer than before. “clearly y’didn’t sweetheart, or otherwise that icyhot bastard wouldn’t have needed to back you up ‘fore i got there...” his timbre voice sends sparks of electricity through the air in the room, it’s low and gravelly which is enough to send shivers down your spine but you’re not about to let katsuki bakugou know that he makes you flustered— it’d go straight to his head, the cocky bastard.

nonetheless; you roll your eyes at the mention of your old classmate and fellow pro hero— shoto todoroki. yourself and shoto got along fairly well, even back in high school, so it was normal for you to work together from time to time; you both made a great team and your skill set complimented each other’s well. katsuki was just jealous. he never really got along with todoroki like that. “he didn’t back me up, we were working together,” you snap back at the blonde, shaking yourself from bakugou’s grasp and flicking him right between those alluring vermillion eyes. “something you might not be familiar with, mister number two.” bakugou backs away from you completely ( only wincing slightly ), making you smirk in victory. you’ve struck a nerve. deciding to leave the conversation at that, you turn to make your exit as he collapses back into his seat with a deathly scowl and a quiet ‘tch’. “like i said, i had it, dynamight. next time, don’t jump in uninvited.”

happy that you got the last laugh, you open the door to leave his office but pause when a wave of heat hits your back. you should have known, katsuki bakugou was never one to back down from a challenge and you certainly weren’t an exception. well shit. when you turn around to face the blonde, small explosions spark from his right hand and he has some what of a look of a feral pomeranian, blood red eyes full of rage.

you visibly gulp and katsuki growls out his next words with the upmost venom, designed to hurt and cut at your feelings. “well maybe y’sudda let the actual pros handle shit like this,” bakugou begins, voice rising in volume with every syllable that passes his lips. “we both know you’re no good at short distance attacks with your quirk, shitty woman, you couldn’t have taken those villains down without me.” the blonde finishes with a short ‘tsk’, settling the explosions that spark in his palms. now it’s your turn to be pissed. you could handle katsuki’s jealousy, his petty reasoning for joining you on your patrol and taking the credit but bashing you and your quirk? no way in hell would he get away with that.

“bakugou?”

“what? the fuck y’still here for?”

you roll your shoulders, gracing the blonde with a devilish smile as your eyes light up mischievously. “why are you hitting yourself, bakugou?” you sing, hitting just the right notes that will have him under your spell, the tone in your voice as smooth as chocolate. katsuki’s eyes widen in horror and before he can stop himself, his free hand comes up to slap him across the face. that was your quirk, lullaby. you had the ability to sing your way out of any situation— adjusting the tune of your song to control the actions of certain individuals or groups of people. it was near impossible to resist but the more people you used your quirk on, the weaker your control over them was. that doesn’t mean you weren’t going to use it on bakugou from time to time. the blonde tries to fight it, he really does, but he’s no use up against your ability— losing all control of his own body. he grunts on impact, looking bewildered for a moment as he moves to grab his own wrist to stop any impending blows. “not so cocky now, are we dynamight?”

“h-hey!” he stammers, refusing to accept defeat against you. “shitty woman, no fuckin’ fair. you know i can’t use my quirk against you in here.” he was right, while your quirk was poor against short distance attacks ( meaning you had to result to hand to hand combat ), bakugou couldn’t use his own in enclosed spaces without hurting anyone he didn’t want to. especially you, he would never hurt you intentionally unless you were sparring.

“shoulda thought about that before you decided to taunt me, you know better than to piss off your wife, katsu.” you chide, still smiling just as brightly as you were earlier, before taking a seat on his desk and folding one leg over the other. it was quite amusing to watch your husband of four years fight against himself— everyone knew katsuki had an unbelievable amount of strength even without his quirk so he was definitely beating himself up ( literally and figuratively ).

bakugou looks up at you through gritted teeth while he struggles to keep the wrist you have control of down and you almost feel bad for the guy. “turn it off, dammit!” he curses at you, said hand rising above his free one to tug at his own sun kissed locks.

feigning interest in the objects on your lover's desk, you ignore his pleas for you to release him from the holds of your quirk and hum “apologise.”

“f-fuck... fuck y-you.”

you sigh knowingly, picking up a hand crafted paperweight, covered in glitter and sequin stars, inspecting it carefully. bakugou could hardly ever say the word ‘sorry’, it was just in his nature and he’d been that way since you were young. part of you knows it’s because of how he was treated as a child where people praised him for his quirk. that meant he became prideful yes, thought highly of himself too and struggled to admit when others were right...but he had his own way of apologising— through actions instead of words.

like when you first moved in together and he had broken your favourite mug, instead of saying he was sorry, he spent all night super glueing it back together for you to use in the morning. to him, actions were louder than words but you right now; you were being mean and just wanted to hear him say it.

“fuck fuck, fine. alright. ‘m sorry.” bakugou lets out a strained growl as the hand you control gives a particularly hard yank to his hair. “i’m sorry for lying about your quirk. it’s not shitty…’n ‘m sorry for... barging in on your patrol. again.” you grin, satisfied with his answer and grab the hand he keeps down with his wrist. you press a simple kiss to the skin, making your husband blush as you release your hold over the limb. katsuki shyly yanks it from your grip, rubbing over the area that you’d kissed, shooting his gaze to the side in the process. “jesus shitty woman, if i don’t die from being a hero or of old fucking age, i know for a fact you’ll be the one to kill me first.” he mutters harshly under his breath, but you know he’s only kidding from the way his hands now fall to your thighs and his fingers rub small circles into the exposed skin.

“pro hero nightsky murders number two pro hero dynamight in cold blood!” you joke as if you’re reading a headline in a news article, katsuki only glares up at you— making no effort to curse you out because of your shitty joke, which causes you to frown while leaning forward to brush some of his hair away from his face. “you know i’m only kidding right? is something wrong? did i come at a bad time?”

it’s only now that you notice the exhausted expression that paints your lover’s face. he’s always up to playing this game with you, at the same time every day— you come to bother him about some trivial matter, tease him a bit and leave with a kiss. but today, you can tell he’s trying to hide something from you. something that bothers him.

bakugou shakes his head, leaning into your touch as you play with his hair— a habit he’d picked up from even before you started dating back in high school, although he’d never admit that to you if you’d asked. “nothin’, just this stupid fuckin’ interview the PR team want me to do about the fight today. the one i took from you,” your husband smirks slightly at the thought and you roll your eyes for what seems like the nine hundredth time that afternoon. “didn’t get to finish my fuckin’ lunch but they promised me a couple days off if i got the interview done.”

“better the number two than me, eh? but don’t worry, i’ll order us some take out tonight,” your suggest, voice coming out as soft and mingling with your slight giggle— a quiet melody to katsuki’s ears. your only reply from him is a grunt, so you stop your fingers in his hair and watch as he scowls up at you. you quickly press a kiss to the explosive hero’s lips, pulling away to reveal his blushing face. you smile, knowing that you’re the only one who can make him flush red like that. “there’s something else bothering you, isn’t there?”

if there’s one thing katsuki bakugou hates, it’s how you read him like an open book. one look at him and it’s like you know exactly how he’s feeling. he can never hide anything from you— sometimes that both pisses him off and reminds him of how much he is loved by you. he hesitates with his words at first but decides to confide in you anyway, knowing that you’ll get it out of him in one way or another. “‘m worried about you, dumbass.” he mumbles, nudging your hand with his head as if to ask you to continue your earlier actions. “i know you had it, yer fuckin’ powerful but you looked so tired in that fight today ‘n i thought something bad was gonna happen to you, y’fuckin’ shitty woman.”

he toys with the tears in your costume now, smoothing over scars from your bumps and scratches as a result of combat. “oh lovebug,” you mumble, cupping his cheeks to make him look up at you. “you know i can handle my own, they just took a lot out of me today. i promise i’ll—“

“that’s not it, fuck,” katsuki cuts you off, brows furrowing deeply as he grabs your wrists— pulling your from his desk and into his lap. he holds you close, burying his nose into your neck as if you’re going to disappear. you sit still, a little shocked by his actions and his quick change of mood, but wrap your arms around him anyway and slowly fall silent. “it's just that...we’re both pros now and at the top of our ranks ‘n we both have a lot to lose.” you instinctively cling tighter to katsuki, mind flickering to the homemade paperweight you’d spotted on his desk earlier... causing your heart clench.

your daughter had made that for him during her time at preschool for fathers day; something your husband cherished with his whole heart, even if the thing was still sticky with glue when he’d gotten it.

katsuki loved taiga more than anything in the world and if something had happened to her because of your line of work, you don’t know what either of you would do. “what if something were to happen to you? or to me? or shit...both of us? who would look after taiga? you know what happens to kids who end up in the fucking system.” bakugou pauses, the same tired expression from earlier now sitting heavily on his face. “i just want you to be careful, stop pushing yourself so much, y’fuckin’ dumbasss. we have a family take care of. it’s not just you and i anymore.”

you nod, grasping onto your lover’s clothes tightly. the air is flooded with a comfortable silence, the pair of you holding one another right the way through it. you treasure moments like this, where the world stops and katsuki shows you another, more vulnerable side to him.

he would never admit or show this to anyone; but he cares , more than he lets on... especially for you and especially for your daughter. he was attentive, paid attention to you and your weaknesses and helped you overcome them. it was something you couldn’t stop loving about him. “i promise to be more careful, for you and for taiga,” you say quietly after he’s done scolding you, brushing your lips against the side of his head in a soft peck. “that must’ve been why jumped in earlier, you were worried about me?”

“somethin’ like that, you crazy woman,,” bakugou whispers, there’s a tinge of fondness to his ruby eyes as you pull away to look at him, his hands settling on your hips while he moves up to press a soft kiss to your awaiting lips. “didn’t want you getting yourself killed.”

you stay with katsuki in the office for a little longer than usual, laying on his chest as he prattles away about everything and anything even though he should be working. you make sure he eats his lunch, despite how cold it is and promise him a boat load of take out when he comes home later— your sweet cuddling session only being cut short by a call from your assistant to tell you that your daughter is ready to be picked up from school. “better finish that interview katsu, taiga’ll be happy to know her daddy’s getting some time off to spend with her soon,” you remind him as you gather yourself together, your husband pouting ( he swears on his life he wasn’t ) from the loss of your warmth in his lap. “she has a lot to tell you.”

the blonde quirks a brow, watching you as you head for the door. “yeah? like what?” a hand comes up to cover your mouth as you giggle at his curious face. sometimes, when you look at katsuki, you could see how much your daughter resembles him, right down to his mannerisms. she had somehow inherited the shape of your nose and the brightness of your smile ( the only reason barely anyone realised bakugou had a kid, he never fucking smiled. ) but the bakugou genes were incredibly strong so there was no way she’d miss out on those crimson eyes and uncontrollable, untameable messy blonde hair.

she even acted like him. a very brazen little girl who knew what she wanted and how to get it, so she had her daddy wrapped around her stubby little fingers.

you grin, eyes sparkling with the same mischief as before. “oh y’know, just her little crush on midoriya’s boy.”

“yer fuckin’ kiddin’ me.”

“i would never joke about such a thing, just make sure you’re home in time for dinner, number two!” you squeal, dashing out of the office before your husband has time to demand more answers from you. slamming the door shut, you chuckle at the melody of curses that leave your husbands mouth before heading off to pick up your daughter.

on your way, you admit to yourself , that maybe you didn’t have this fight in the bag. but what you did have; was a loving husband, a beautiful daughter and the best life you could have ever imagined.

extended ending:

“so, taiga... daddy hears you have a little... crush on someone.”

you’re in the kitchen, washing the dishes from tonight’s dinner as bakugou wipes tentatively at your little girl’s messy face— she was a poor eater but it’s something you didn’t mind, not when your husband was so soft with cleaning her up. you can see them from where you stand, watching katsuki knowingly.

taiga looks up from the colouring you’d set out for her when she finished up her meal, crimson eyes shining brightly as she fixes her gaze on her father. “mhm mhm!! he’s mister deku’s son! and i’m gonna marry him!”

“no yer not.” bakugou answers simply, looking close to popping a vein.

“why not?”

your husband scoffs, throwing away the tissue he’d used to clean his little girl up before joining her in her colouring. “‘cause daddy says so ‘n boys are gross, especially ones who’s dad’s look like broccoli.” the older ash blonde seems satisfied with his answer, grinning to himself as you dry the dishes with an amused smile.

but taiga isn’t finished, swapping her green crayon for a red one to finish up her drawing. “but you’re a boy...and mommy still married you!”

bakugou pauses, lost for words as taiga continues to colour— humming the theme song from a commercial for some of deku’s merch. you can tell it’s taking everything katsuki’s got not to combust right there on the spot, but he can’t stay mad at taiga for too long, not when she’s describing her wedding and how her daddy is going to walk her down the isle.

setting the dishes to dry and towelling your hands; you smile to yourself as you admire your family. some would say you had it all, and looking at the pair of bakugou’s now, who were you to deny the truth.

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lowkeyerror · 3 years

Text

A Better Gotham

Harley Quinn x Poison Ivy

Word Count: 1557

No Warnings

Requested by: @frostbite883

Request: If the Joker never existed and Harleen Quinzel was still a psychiatrist working at Arkham Asylum and Pamela Isley wasn't experimented on and now worked as a botanist somewhere in Gotham in this scenario, different would their lives be?

An: To answer your question, I think they'd both be thriving. Possibly even thriving together.

Masterlist

Gotham City was mostly a peaceful place. The skies were clear and the crime rates were dropping everyday. There was a small period of time where criminals were doing crimes, getting arrested, and released only to have the cycle repeat. That all changed when Arkham Asylum hired Harleen Quinzel.

Harleen Quinzel was the most qualified Psychiatrist in Gotham City. If her degrees and academic achievements didn’t already speak for themselves her work at the asylum did. Harleen was magical with most of the prisoners, it was easy for her to dissect, diagnose, prescribe, and reform a lot of these inmates. Not every inmate could be helped and Harleen understood that but she did her best to push for prisoner reform.

Thanks to her diligence the city around her started to change. Gotham was safer than ever before thanks to her work. She had been acknowledged by her peers and a lot of her fellow Gothemites. She didn’t have a lot of friends to celebrate with but she did have one.

Gotham’s resident environmentalist, Pamela Isley. When crime was at its peak the city was in shambles. There was garbage everywhere, fires weekly, the water was almost a dark green; it was truly horrendous. Pamela spent a lot of her time trying to clean up the streets but it was almost impossible until Harleen was dealing with the cause of most of the environmental devastation.

Once crimes were less prevalent the streets weren’t only metaphorically cleaner but also physically. Pam worked hard to promote how much it was important for Gotham City to be clean. She often rallied up groups to help her clean up the city street by street. She lobbied for more trees in the city to raise the quality of air and she even proposed a new eco-friendly water system that the town implemented.

When she felt that she had taken care of the waste problems in Gotham she moved on to her true passion. While Harleen focused on people Pamela focused on nature. She had been studying advanced botanical biochemistry for years and she even had a PHD in the subject.

She used that degree to open up her own botanical garden in Gotham. It was a great way for her to learn more about plants and teach others. Her botanical garden was one of the main tourist attractions in Gotham. Pam had plants that other people had never even heard of. Her special cross breeds drew the attention of many other scientists in the botany community. She was making strides in the field that no one else could have imagined.

Not only was she an accomplished environmentalist in the city of Gotham but Pamela was almost famous in the world of advanced botanical biochemistry. She had been honored and received many awards and had even been offered high profile positions outside of Gotham City. However all that Pamela wanted to do was manage her beautiful little garden and hangout with her best friend Harleen Quinnzel.

Each woman usually had a schedule filled to the brim but they always set aside two in their week where they could catch up and hangout with each other. Both women were overly passionate about their work so they had a rule, they could only spend an hour talking about work. That made each woman try to get out a little so that they had something to talk about, not they minded sitting in comfortable silence.

Today was one of those days that they had scheduled a hangout. It was around fall so the day wasn't as bright as usual, in fact it was raining. The rain wasn’t coming down too hard but it did prompt them to cancel any outdoor activities and settle for movie night at Harleen’s.

“ Harley, what are we going to order?” Pam called to the woman in the kitchen from her comfortable spot on the couch.

“ You know I hate that nickname, Poison Ivy,” Harleen shot an unwanted nickname right back at her.

“ Hey! Harley is way nicer than you calling me a plant that could make someone burst out in hives”

Harleen strode into the living room with 2 takeout menus in her hands,” Fine, I’m sorry Pammy. We’ve got Cobblepot’s Cobblestone Pizza’s or Bane's Bueno Burritos."

" Oh definitely Cobblestone, the last time I went to Bane's I was sick for days," Her hand rubbed her tummy as she remembered the awful burrito.

" It's probably because of the fake paste they pass off as meat," Harleen plopped on the couch next to Pamela.

She placed the order for the pizza and turned on a movie for the two of them. The movie was utterly boring and didn't have their attention long before they bursted out into small talk.

" Harls?"

" Yes Pam"

" You seeing anybody lately?"

Harleen rolled her eyes, " You know no one is willing to date someone with a schedule like mine."

" Oh come on Harls, we spent hours setting up that dating profile for you"

The psychiatrist shrugged, " Everyone on there was just looking for a quick hookup."

" Did you even go on one date?"

Harleen was going to lie but Pam sensed it and gave her a look," No, I didn't"

Pamela wss going to start up but Harleen cut her off, " Who needs a relationship when I've got you?"

The environmentalist looked away from her friend slightly blushing," Well we aren't dating Harleen"

Harleen took notice of the light rose tint to Pamela's cheeks. It was no secret that there was always a little underlying tension when the women spent time together.

A lot of it stemmed from being the only one the other had. They had been the only consistent in each other's life. Cleaning up the community was hard for both of them and they often leaned on each other for support and relief. They relished in each other's success and failures. No matter how small the victory was, they were each other's support systems.

In Harleen’s eyes Pamela was her person. It never got more complicated than that for the woman. It was always so easy with Pamela. Making time for anything else seemed impossible but when it came to Pamela she had all the time on the world.

Pamela felt the same way about Harleen. To Pamela, Harleen was the prettiest flower in the garden as cliché as it sounded. She didn't realize how strong her feelings toward her friend were originally. It wasn't until she realized that everytime she accomplished something the first thing she wanted to do was share the news with Harleen.

" We might as well be. I mean if I'm not a work I'm with you and honestly there's nowhere else I'd rather be"

Harleen was hesitant but she still managed to put her hand on top of Pamela’s. Pamela glanced at their hands before intertwining their fingers.

“ What are you trying to say Harls?”

Harleen smiled looking down at their joint hands,” Well you’re always asking me about my dating life. I think it would kill two birds with one stone if we just started dating. Think about it, you wouldn’t have to ask me any questions about my love life and I’d be in a committed relationship. Sounds like a win-win to me”

Pamela tilted her head pretending to ponder it over, “ It does seem pretty logical, there’s only one thing that’s worrying me.”

“ And what would that be Dr. Isley?”

Pamela smirks, “ Well Dr. Quinzel, I would have to run a kissing test to see if we are biochemically compatible”

Harleen couldn’t help but laugh, “ We’ve kissed before”

Pamela looks at her wide-eyed, “ When was this and why don’t I remember”

“ When we both had too much to drink at Bruce Wayne's Christmas party”

Pam pales even further, “ That whole night is literally a blur”

“Well let me help you remember. Your hands were here,” she places Pamela’s hands on her waist, “ My hands were here,” her hand lock behind Ivy’s neck, “ And then I leaned up a little bit”

The rest of the sentence was lost when their lips met. The kiss wasn’t crazy or wild but it was passionate. Completely overdue if they were being honest. Harleen reveled in the moment as Pamaela’s lips brushed delicately against her own, creating just enough pressure to make Harleen crave more. Pamela was experiencing a similar sensation as Harleens plump lips molded perfectly against hers. This was bliss for the both of them.

The kiss was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell being rung. They pulled away slowly, staring into each other's eyes. Harleen didn’t get the chance to say anything as the doorbell rang again. She huffed as she had to go answer the door. Pamela laughed at her stubbornness and waited for Harley to return.

“ Well at least the moment was ruined by piping hot pizza,” Harleen walked back to the living room with a pizza box in hand. She set it down on the table before plopping back on the couch next to Pamela.

“ It’s not a big deal, I mean we have plenty of time to make more moments considering that we’re dating,” Pamela said nonchalantly, grabbing a slice of pizza.

Harleen grinned, getting herself a slice as well, “ I suppose you’re right Dr. Isley. We’ve got all the time in the world”

#Harley Quinn #Poison Ivy #Harleen Quinzel #pamela isley #harley quinn x poison ivy #harley quinn imagine #poison ivy imagine #au #lowkeyerror #frostbite833

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mandalorewhore · 4 years

Text

Hunter (formerly Hunter and Prey)

Cis-Female Reader Insert/ Din Djarin

Gif by @themandaloriandaily

Thank u to @cptnbvcks, @whenimaunicorn, and of course @no-droids for the inspiration and your superior writing skills, whenever i was stuck on a portion i would reread all of u guy’s works and feel inspired again

Rating: Explicit Content Warnings: Exhibitionism, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Breath Play, Deep Throating, Masturbation, Pining, Depictions Of Violence, Canon-Typical Violence Words: 11k AO3 LINK

Summary: AU where Din Djarin stays with the mercenary group owned by Ranzar Malk. Takes place a few years before Din is contracted for Grogu's bounty. You're a merc trying to make a name for yourself in the group when circumstances end up having you run away with Din. You become his hunting partner in order to support yourself but you cant help falling in love with him, even as trained killers chase you across the galaxy.

FULL FIC:

As a mercenary, you wouldn’t consider yourself an overly sensitive person.

Maker knows you wouldn’t have lasted a week in the job if you couldn’t handle your emotions. Although you don’t consider yourself entirely void of empathy, having a sense of detachment is useful when your waking hours are spent committing crimes throughout the galaxy.

So why the fuck are you so jealous right now?

The obscene moans and harsh slapping that echoes throughout the hangar shouldn’t inspire a larger reaction than disgust as you dutifully continue to repair the blaster marks on one of the rogue-class starfighters. Luckily, it seems that most of your immediate associates have ran off into the deeper areas of the bay to toll your last mission.

Excluding three members, you guess.

Thank the fucking Maker Migs isn’t here You think bitterly, willing the sparks to fly higher and machine rumble louder as you carefully manipulate your buffing laser on the metal surface. His snarky attitude certainly wouldn’t lessen your misery as you try to drown out the sounds of sex. Raunchy words hiss, bouncing off the metal walls, before finding your feet and slithering up your limbs with a foulness that chokes you. Controlling the hot spinning laser seems to stoke your inner seething more than it distracts you.

“Mando! Stars, keep-fuck- keep doing that,” you hear Xi’an echoing. Fucking Xi’an. She knows what she’s doing to you. The cruel Twi’lek is far too observant to not know that she is practically comm-station broadcasting her sexual exploits to the entire crew, and with that sheer volume, might as well the entire galaxy. You truly wouldn’t care about her sex life if it wasn’t blatantly obvious that Xi’an was doing this to mock you. You know this is meant for your ears only, a repeat of every other time you’ve found yourself stuck with this chore.

Even if she wasn’t directly rubbing the fact that she was fucking the Mandalorian in your face, you don’t doubt that she would find a way to taunt your nonexistent sex life just for the fun of it. Another salacious moan echoes in the bay causing you to cringe and slightly jerk the repair tool in frustration.

Fuck, why did it have to be Mando? Aren’t there enough people on this kriffing space station to warm her bed? And how is he being so quiet right now? After a second you remember that’s a stupid question, considering he is probably the quietest person you’ve ever met.

His reservation serves to intimidate your targets, all the while unintentionally stoking that warmth in your belly when you are near him. His all-encompassing presence when he enters a room strikes fear in the hearts of the opposition, meanwhile, you are secretly pressing your thighs together in desire, enjoying the spectacle?.

You’ve found yourself reveling in the few jobs where Ran’s strategy has you in a decoy-role, weaponizing your feminine charm to lull your target into a false sense of power. The muscle composing of Burg and Mando make quick work of those men once they're thoroughly wrapped up in your wiles. Despite being placed together for jobs on several occasions you’ve never actually had a real conversation with him.

You’re too scared to talk to him, a near-silent man covered head to toe in Beskar, but you make money killing people and robbing gangs every week. It would be funnier if that purple freak wasn’t so vile. You don’t even know how to casually approach him.. Nice job killing those guys while I manipulated them into trying to fuck me! I’m pretty good with a gun, too. Maker, it’s so ridiculous that you don’t even bother with trying to figure it out. Other fantasies are easier to picture, such as the thought of him strolling across the room to slot himself in-between your spread legs, directing that intensity into your willing, aching body.

This infuriating crush is why you suppose that your envy wouldn’t be as biting if you caught some sort of noise from the man during these displays of exhibitionism. It would give you something to repeat in your mind while you stow away in the late hours of the night seeking your own release. You guess the inability to hear him is proof of how far Xi’an is pushing her volume. It’s all just to piss you off.

“Uhg, how miserable..” You mutter to yourself, allowing a little moment of self-indulgent angst. Typically, you wouldn’t allow yourself to wallow like a petulant teen seeing as you’re a literal fucking criminal.

I’m supposed to be a hardass, dammit you think, spirits low as repairs wrap up far too swiftly. You swear you’ll buff right through every layer in the ship if you keep procrastinating on finishing your job and wandering into the tucked away fresher for a shower. Wandering past….them.

Wherever they are choosing to fuck can’t be that far considering the slap of skin on skin is already fucking loud enough. The sounds seem to be emanating from a vent not too high up the wall, you deduce it connects to one of the bunk rooms not too far from the landing pad you’re working next to. It really is fucking loud with all these metal surfaces to echo off of. Making your way to your small bunk might cause you to go deaf and if the last thing you ever hear is Xi’an wailing as she rubs in the fact that you aren’t fucking Mando, well, you might just take this spinning laser to your head. Unfortunately, at this point, the exterior of the gunship couldn’t possibly get more pristine.

Sighing in defeat, you push up from your crouching position on the metal floor and start to assemble your tools for clean-up while the sounds of Twi’lek pleasure predictably pick up in volume.

“Fuck, fuck-Ah I’m close, I-I’m going to-“ A literal howl pierces the air as your gut twists with discomfort. Fuck, this is so awkward... and like, weird? Does he consent to this? Does he like that we can hear it? Maker.. Pushing that thought out of your mind you start to jog to your goal of the darkened hall that leads to the station fresher, still so wrapped up in jealousy that you almost miss the rough modulated growl accompanying the scream.

O-oh.

Oh shit. Was that Mando….Moaning?

The swirling jealousy is suddenly overtaken by a- stars- painful heat, so debilitating that you stumble and almost double over with an intensity that shoots through your groin. Okay well, now you feel like an actual pervert. This display of eroticism was engineered by Xi’an to make you uncomfortable, not so painfully turned on that it’s dizzying. You vaguely register a growing slickness between your legs as you hurry along the cold hallway, desperate to drench yourself in icy water and pretend to forget the sound of Mando moaning.

Shit, Maker, was he cumming? Was that what he sounds like when-- no stopstopnope. Don’t think about that. Your inner monologue is running amuck as you desperately try to block it out. This feels kinda gross, as if you’re a greasy peeping tom spying on Mando’s private endeavors even though this whole situation was shoved in your face to make you ache in countless, longing ways.

That deep growl repeats in your mind as you hum nonsensically under your breath, tapping your skull as if you can knock the sound out of your consciousness despite being well aware that you will go to your fucking grave with every detail. The top of your inner thighs is so embarrassingly slick that you have to resist waddling along the corridor to the showers. Just as you are about to round the first corner, one of the side bunker doors slides halfway opens with a whoosh. The smirking Twi’lek saunters out like the loth-cat who got the cream.

I suppose she did get the cream... Your split-second of sour mirth is further spoiled as Xi’an slides the rest of the door open revealing the gleam of silver beskar and red steel as the ever still Mandalorian adjusting his…thigh armor. You spy a large vent at the junction between wall and ceiling, confirming your earlier suspicions that she chose this location on purpose. Quickly glancing between Mando and Xi’an, your face uncontrollably floods with fire when her giggles pierce the air. You register his helmet tilting toward you right as Xi’an’s tongue slowly extends to liiiick her fingers, any curiosity at his gesture burning away in revulsion.

What does she get out of making everyone uncomfortable? You think to yourself, wanting to squirm away from the obscenity but resolving to hold your ground.

“Xi’an,” You greet the two shortly, hands linked behind your back. “Mando.” He nods.

“Sorry,” Xi’an offers in a voice devoid of guilt. “Were we being too loud? I would never want to distract you from your… projects.” Her taunting smile curls so widely that it is almost disturbing. “What would the team do without our junior mechanic!”

Her cackle rings through the suddenly freezing hall as you spin on your heel and try to not look like you’re fleeing. Red is tinting the edges of your vision from her insult while tears threaten to flood your eyes out of embarrassment.

You need to get to that shower quickly.

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

As the tepid shower rains down on your flushed body, you childishly wonder if you should run away. Or rather, if you could run away considering you technically don’t own any of the ships currently residing in the hangar bay. Although you technically have free reign to pilot most of the spaceships available, that freedom entirely applies to transportation between merc assignments . The thought of running away from your current acquaintances on a stolen ship is not appealing. In fact, the only crew member owning a personal vessel happens to be Mando, his Razer Crest gunship was often subject to your mechanic skills.

Mando, who always offered a genuine “Thank you.” after you’d spend hours touching up the vessel’s damage procured from the rare missions he lent its flight to. Mando, the person who you are presently trying to not think about while naked and still trembling with emotion.

Your sillier fantasies would sometimes involve stealing away in his gunship, hand pressed over his chest and leg thrown across his lower body like a romance novel while he skillfully pilots the ship away. Kriff, you felt like a soft girl whenever you run this scenario through your mind, so cliché and campy that you cringe at yourself. Thus, this particular dive into your consciousness was reserved for special moments such as lying in bed after a strenuous job, or after long days spent working through that junkyard of hangar bay trying to strong-arm your way into earning worth in the company. Private moments where you are finally comfortable letting your guard down to drift aimlessly throughout maladaptive daydreams.

Not so soft fantasies exist in your mind as well. Once again that modulated groan springs to the forefront of your mind causing your clit to throb softly. The conflicting feelings of embarrassment, rage, and painful arousal serves to create an energizing cocktail that goes straight to your pussy.

‘Fuck it,” You whisper breathily to yourself, “Nows as good a time as ever..” your fingers are trailing down your stomach as you say the words out loud. You adjust the water to be slightly warmer and sigh as the comfortable heat compliments your tickling fingers. If only you could replace your hands with the significantly larger leather-clad ones of a certain bounty hunter. The thought spikes your arousal as you lightly brush against your mound, choosing to tease yourself as images flash through your mind. The armor-clad Mandalorian gripping the back of your neck to you press facedown on the floor of his ship and take his cock. Or your legs spread wide across his hips, crushing your pussy on his groin while he’s seated in the pilot seat of his ship.

Your fingers dip slightly into your slick hole then drag up to your clit causing you to bite your free palm and hold back a moan. Eyelids heavy, you give in to the fantasies and begin to earnestly rub at your clit.

“Mmf Maker, f-fuck..”, you whine into your hand at the thought of him breaking your pussy open. You just know he fucks hard -- it’s a given that the crazy Twi’lek would be one for rougher sexual affairs. Someone who spends nearly every moment of life feeling nothing but the weight of fabric and beskar on their skin must be so fucking touch starved. You bet the opportunities he’s had to feel a tight cunt wrapped around his length would completely overwhelm his restraint. Muffled moans begin to fill the fresher as your fingers speed up between your legs, head hanging forward into the metal wall and water dripping off your brows.

Your eyes flutter shut as you pull your hand from your lips to tug at your hardened nipple, other hand still between your legs, imagining a dark visor being trained on your soaking wet, writhing body. The image sends a shooting pleasure up your spine as you spin around and press your back to the wall. Imagining his dark form watching you from the other side of the gathering steam, you open your thighs and spread your labia apart, sighing at the wet sound it makes. “Like what you see, hunter..?” you whisper into the empty room wishing he would find you in this shower.

Removing your fingers from your nipple you reach down to your crotch and greedily fill yourself with two fingers, pumping in and out as your other hand works at your swollen clit. The volume of your now unmuffled pleasure is likely overheard by anyone on this section of the station, but you can't find it in yourself to give a shit. If Xi’an can screech out her orgasms at any given opportunity to fuck with you then let them hear.

Let him hear.

Your imagination runs rampant at the notion that he could hunt down your gasps and take care of you himself, causing you to gasp louder. S-shit people can hear you, you just won't say his name out loud, it's fine, it's f-fine- The thought of him discovering you here is so hot that it's blinding, and suddenly your orgasm is rushing up to crush you entirely.

Your lower half is locked tight then suddenly your knees buckle and you’re cumming hard. Your choked gasps cutting through the steamy shower like blaster fire as you peak higher, uncontrollably calling out for the Mandalorian while white-hot pleasure wrings you dry. Let him hear you crying for him as you gush around your fingers, convulsing in bliss.

In the shuddering aftershocks, you don’t hear the uncharacteristically loud padding of leather boots retreating away from the fresher door.

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

You’re good at your job. You wouldn’t be doing it if you truly couldn’t handle the ordeal of being a mercenary. The whole point of the job is to take care of the dirty work, so those far disconnected wouldn’t have to dwell on their choices too hard. You’re used to not asking questions, motivated by credits and reputation alone. But in moments like these, a job going this awry… well, you just feel like pure shit. This hit was way too easy and far too filthy even for your career mostly consisting of professional filth. It was so glaringly obvious that even if your associate’s numbers were sliced in half, you would still sweep the ground with your winnings.

And what meager earnings they are.

The crew’s assignment this round was to hit a casino shipment just outside the outer rim planet of Cantonica. Due to the Razer Crest’s ability to fly under the radar of both Imperial and New republic records, Ran rudely allotted that Mando should allow his ship’s use for crew transport. You’re surprised he agreed at all, but perhaps the prospect of gain motivated him. His motivations are rarely clear to you. You’re guessing the price of a wealthy city’s supply sounded frankly too tempting for everyone involved; Ran was practically salivating over the drawing board for this particular errand. One would imagine a hull stacked to the top with credits and the finest luxuries for Canto Blight’s flashy tourists. It is Catonica’s main attraction after all.

But once the team’s resident crime droid, Zero, breached the cargo ship's record, the whole team is informed that the cargo-freighter ship only contains “organics”.

Slaves.

In the end, Migs remarked that there may still be something of worth to obtain from this job, and thus the plan morphed into an robbery on the surface once the cargo landed at its isolated dock. You reluctantly agreed to continue while Mando shortly nodded, both of you last to assent on this change in direction.

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

Some hours later you’re crouching in a derelict warehouse while the lessening blaster fire showers spark like fireworks across your corneas. The fighting between your crew and the dockyard guards has almost died down at this point and you take the moment to catch your breath behind a large stack of cargo boxes.

“Holy stars,” you gasp out, head falling between your knees as a wave of guilt consumes you momentarily. This job fucking blows. It’s so much easier robbing Imps and gangs because they are inherently bad fucking people. Robbing a group of slaves is the lowest point you think you have ever hit in your life. This is so wrong, this is so so wrong, they don’t even have ownership of their own lives and here your crew of fucking mercenaries swoops in with a vengeance over being cheated out of something that we didn’t own in the first place.

The last straw was when you witnessed a young bedraggled woman fearfully tossing the Twi’lek sibling, Qin, a small wooden necklace, the last possession from her life before slavery. You ended up turning tail and running deeper into the dock while Qin needlessly hissed at her just to enjoy her terror. You’re sure he’ll just toss the thing after the job is over.

“I never would’ve agreed to this…” You breathe out shakily to the empty air, hollowness swallowing your ability to compartmentalize your humanity from the nature of this work. You are still fighting the impulse to give in to that deep pit of sorrow when a large shadow makes you start and grip your blaster before relaxing in recognition at the chrome gleam.

“Oh, hey, Mando,” Smiling tightly in his presence as he approaches silently, his helmet tilted down at your crouched form. His gaze makes you straighten up quickly, realizing that you probably shouldn’t look so stricken in front of your crime associate. Gotta look tough, can’t let people think you’re too soft for this work. Man, didn’t he help start the company? That thought motivates you further to stand up and face him head-on.

“Not what we expected huh? Certainly no Canto luxury here..” you quietly murmur to his cheek groove.

If you looked directly where his eyes might be he would likely catch the sparkle of moisture threatening to pool at your bottom lashes.

“No,” he breathes shortly through the modulator. “Not this.” Something in his voice inspires the bravery to glance at his T-shaped visor. Compared to his usual tone of speech he almost sounds …stricken right now. Distraught by this display of debauchery your crewmates have shown the slaves and few people manning the dock. It's not noticeable unless you’ve been around him enough to read him on some level but deep down you know he feels the same way. You try to recall him taking part in the violent takeover and realize he was barely present for the ordeal. Aside from the initial violence that broke out during landing he hardly did anything and was noticeably absent once the slaves were targeted. In the back of your mind, you pray that he won't be reprimanded for the lack of effort. The thought is ridiculous but you’re scared anyway.

Stars, this is all too much, your head is swirling with grief and stress as your heart rate picks up and suddenly you are so desperate for humanity, for empathy that you lose your filter and-

“Couldn’t stomach it either?” You blurt out to him, desperately hoping he understands and will not judge your deep sorrow for the enslaved people affected by this brutal takedown. Your mind catches up in panic half a second later when Mando doesn’t immediately respond. Did you just seek sensitivity from the Mandalorian? Fuck. Wait. That sounded like an insult too. Fuck um-

“Ah, um I-I mean. I just mean I don’t remember you firing on anyone helpless and I um- I didn’t either, I didn’t fire my blaster at all to be honest I-Fuck- I hid. They’re just slaves not Imps, Mando. The guards were taken out in seconds and-” You hiccup and stutter as tears gather at the edges of your eyes and begin to fall. You feel so overwhelmed with anxiety and guilt that all of a sudden you forgot about his open show of emotion.

Pull it together, don't do this in front of the Mandalorian. He is the very picture of a stoic, hardened mercenary and now you’re kriffing crying in front of him? It briefly registers that this is the first time you’ve ever spoken one on one with him, the both of you were almost always alone or with members of Ran’s party during time off. You internally curse your existence for thinking you could tearfully word vomit in front of a fucking bounty hunter and get comforted by him. Your knowledge of Mandalorians is limited, despite knowing one, yet you think the point of his whole creed about giving up your identity and giving yourself to war. Why the fuck did you cry in front of a damn Manodlorian? You’re just starting to unfreeze from your panic-stricken muscles to dab at your cheeks when a gloved hand swiftly brushes just below your eye to catch a tear.

‘This wouldn’t have happened if that Droid could do his job,” You glance up at him in shock at his biting tone juxtaposed with the gentle gesture, but he’s already turning away, voice rotating with his visor. “The worst is over now that the shooting stopped. Let’s round up the others.”

He pauses with his back turned and you take that moment to compose yourself. You’ve only shed a few tears so your eyes can’t be that red.

“O-okay.. .” You reply, trying to inject your usual backbone into the tone of your response before moving to follow him around the piled boxes and regroup. Staring into your warped reflection in the back of his helmet you try to find the words to thank him but they get lost in the ghosts of today.

Your mind is still swirling but the clouds of despair have mostly cleared away. You know you don’t have time to dwell on your short interaction yet your mind is fully absorbed in his every move, both present and past. Coming from anyone else his reaction would seem shitty and dismissive but coming from Mando... well, you're honestly shocked. Those two sentences were fairly long for someone usually so silent. And what about his reaction to the way this job has gone? Him brushing away your tears?

You are gazing down at your feet deep in thought when you suddenly bonk into the back of Mandos broad back, wacking your forehead on the base of his helmet.

“Oww.” You groan lightly, rubbing your forehead and stepping to the right of his body, “Why’d you stop so sudde-'' It is then when you notice the muffled whimpering coming from the clearing in front of the both of you. A crimson pool of blood laps at the Mandalorian’s boots, its kiss staining the leather a deep black.

Now you are truly sickened, bile rising in your throat as a ragged gasp leaves your mouth.

“Why…? How can you..”

“Xi’an!”

Your choked whisper leaves your lips at the same moment the Mandalorian fucking barks the Twi’leks name.

A crumpled form adjacent to her body is the source of the whimpering and bloodshed, their contorted limbs looking less than human as muscles strain against metal binders. Xi’an’s triangular blades are dripping in her grip as she spins on her toes like a dancer and flounces childishly in the direction of your frozen form. Tearing your gaze away from the shell of a human you meet her eyes with open hostility. She stops several yards away from you.

‘Aha! So good to see you two. Isn’t this job sooo disappointing?” She calls out to the two of you casually. When no one responds her body deflates as she twists her knee inward and clutches one arm peevishly. Performative. “What? No hello? I could’ve died today!” She cackles at the notion.

Mando is a statue at your side. You can feel the rage radiate in waves off his body like a heater and you wonder what's going to happen if Xi’an pushes this further. Your heightened stress from moments before is vibrating throughout your nervous system, compelling you to step forward and speak up.

“Xi’an… this-this is completely unnecessary. The only thing required to complete our hit was taking out guards! What the fuc- and they were clearly incapacitated by you before you decided to take your blade to their skin!” Okay, that came out a little shakier than intended, but it feels like a disservice to hide your revulsion for her actions with the victim lying right there. “You could’ve just hit em’ in the skull with a blaster shot if you needed them out of your way!”

“Guards? Oh, I already took them out. This-” Xi’an punctuates the word a kick into the person’s stomach causing them to groan weakly, “Well, this is just an Organic as Zero would put it.” Organic? Fucking- You jump slightly and glance to your left when the Mandorlorian makes a shocked exclamation at her words. Maker, you’re so sickened you forgot he was with you.

“You mean a Slave? From the shipment?” He hisses the question through his teeth. You can’t see his face but you can hear the tension in his jaw, his body still a ridged form at your side. Xi’an pokes her tongue out and runs it lightly over the pointed edge of her teeth while she considers her response. She seems to be measuring her response to Mando with a little more care than she bothered with while speaking to you. You’re guessing that she cares far more about his perception of her than your personal attitude regarding the Twi’lek. Wouldn’t want to piss off her fuck buddy.

“Answer me!” He snaps when her response takes a millisecond too long. Your purple associate sighs, exasperated now.

“Yes a slave,” she hisses, drawing out the word in contempt, “Really I’m doing him a favor. From the looks of him, he was picked up on Tatooine. I doubt he even had a family to mourn him back on that shitty dustball of a planet-” Her eyes suddenly bulge as she clamps her mouth shut, gaze fixed on the armored man betraying a twinkle of... fear?

Slowly, you turn to him. The pit in your stomach is somehow weighing heavier than ever when you take in his body language. If you thought he was emanating white-hot rage before Xi’an’s response then you don’t even have words for how he holds himself now. You take a half step back in trepidation as the air around you seems to warp around the Mandalorian’s gravitational pull.

“A foundling?” His tone is unexpectedly quiet for someone who is manipulating the very atmosphere of this desert planet. Time seems to freeze. Shadows are ebbing at the edge of your vision and your head feels like it is going to pop in the pressure. You want to do something, anything, to relieve the pressing wall closing in on the three of you, to somehow end this interaction so that you can crawl in on yourself and bury the ghosts in the back of your mind. Fuck, your mouth is so dry, heart palpitating with a painful squeeze. Shit, fuck, what do you do? What did he mean by that question and why is Xi’an freaking out? You’re still fixated on the gleam of his helmet, rushing to find appropriate words when-

A flash of red explodes in your peripheral-vision, sparks seeming to fly 20 feet in the air. The words die in your throat in shock.

Did he? Did he shoot her? You barely saw him move yet as your mind races to catch up on this turn of events, you realize his blaster is drawn low on his hip, while the rest of him hasn't shifted an inch. The pressure cooker disappears in a sweeping wave of silence.

You swallow and turn awkwardly back to Xi’an. Oh.

He shot the slave.

Xi’an is just as stiff as you, her arms slightly raised as if she instinctively tried to ward off the blaster fire before realizing its trajectory. You are still processing his actions when a gloved hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you swiftly as he runs from the scene, tossing a flash bomb behind the both of you.

Without question, you run with him.

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

“Hey!” Within minutes your chest is burning from keeping up with Mando’s relentless pace. You’re fit from your job but he's twice as big as you and probably more than twice as fast. You get the feeling that he's moving slower than usual so you aren’t left behind. Struggling to control your breathing, you attempt to make sense of the jumbled thoughts by wheezing out, “M-Mando what are we doing?”

“Running.”

“Okay, fucking obviously!”

“To the Crest.” He clarifies just as shortly. Okay. Okay, once you reach his ship maybe you’ll get more answers. Right now, both of your priorities align with getting the fuck away from Xi’an before her vision returns and she comes after the both of you. But you can’t yet push some of the recent events to the side.

“You shot him.” You mean to phrase it like a question but it comes out more accusatory than intended with how breathless you are. “The slave you shot-“

“I ended his suffering.”

Oh. That makes sense, even if it makes your chest contract in duress you recognize his killing the slave came from a place of empathy. What exactly did he say right before drawing his blaster, something about… foundlings? You don’t know the term exactly but contextually you can guess it means orphan or alone. Fuck, this is so bad. Just what are you going to tell everyone? He may not have directed his shot at the Twi’lek but he temporarily blinded her. That still counts as an attack on a member of the team. Your chest is burning unbearably now so you slap at Mando’s vambrance to signal your need for a break. He drags you gasping around a corner into the shadowy edge of the warehouse.

“Listen, hey, look at me.” His large hand reaches out to gently grip the side of your face, warm against your skin and smelling sharply of blaster residue. Looking into his visor you realize your cheeks are damp again as hysterical hiccups threaten to make themselves known. “We are going to run. You don’t have to come with me of course but I unintentionally put you in the position of being complicit by attacking Xi’an. That-that wasn’t the plan… but I was leaving the company anyway”

His chest suddenly deflates as he rids it of air.

You realize you were holding your breath at the same time as him as you gasp out, before rubbing at your cheeks and asking dumbly, “Y-you were… leaving the company? Is Ran pissed?”

Stupid question. Of course, he’d be pissed at losing the one Mandalorian in the group. Mandos' presence gave him cred.

“Ran doesn’t know.”

“Ran doesn’t… what? When was this happening then?”

Mando’s visor turns away from your gaze and looks off into the middle distance. His gloved hand on your face is still gripping gently to lock you in place. “Today. That’s the only reason why I agreed to let him use the Crest for this job.”

He shakes his helmet slightly and turns back to your face, the metal covering his face becoming your main focal point while the room spins. You can't see his features, and never would, yet you feel as if you are looking directly into his eyes. Your body has impeccable timing when you feel your cheeks heat blushing.

However, your senses return in an instant when a familiar piercing howl echoes off the walls. The glove drops and he is gripping your shoulders,

“Can you run again?”

Adrenaline springs your limbs into action as you spin around, catching his wrist and pulling, roles reversed as you lead him in the direction of his ship.

Dust is billowing from below whenever your feet meet the ground. The steps sound like thunder in your ears as paranoia begins to worm its way into the forefront of your senses, every corner, every shadow, every blindspot could be hiding one of your former partners. Xi’an is an excellent assassin; time and time again her main skill has proven to be stealth, targets dropping dead expectedly. The Crest isn’t very far thankfully. It sits right on the back of the targeted freighter since Zero requires physical contact to hack the other ship systems for paths. Oooohh shit you forgot about the droid-

“Mando, Zero’s in there.” You puff out shortly in between breaths.

“Fuck that droid. I’ll take care of him, just back me up.” You both slide around a corner as he responds, bringing the two ships into your field of view. You are facing the rear end of the larger vessel, thankfully leaving the coast clear as far as you can tell. Mando’s helmet scans the area then nods, indicating the go-ahead with his fingers before running ahead of you. You follow him, casting fervent glances behind you for any signs of life. You reach the ship a millisecond after he does, his vambrance held high to lower the rear ramp. As the ramp begins to lower he grips your shoulders and spins you around dizzily.

“Stay right outside here. The second I enter the crest I’m dropping the Droid. I’ll call you once it’s safe.” You gulp quickly and nod in assent right before he leaps into the opening of the ship.

Seconds pass.

Your nerves are plucking way more than they normally would.. You never particularly liked Zero, but the sudden turn of taking out your ex-allies is making you high strung and nervous. Zero’s voice cuts through the silence, making you jump.

“Mandolarian, you are back early. Were the prospects plentiful despite being Organics?”

“No.” You twitch when a shot echoes in the hull followed by the clash of metal on metal.

The Mandalorian sharply calls your name springing you into action. You enter the ship immediately spying Zero’s body under the cockpit ladder, blaster wound still smoking with red-hot metal ringing the edges. Your eyes linger a little on the droid’s body, slightly leery at the death of someone who was your backup only hours ago, then you sigh and duck to get a handle on under his shoulders, dragging him to toss out the open entryway.

Grunting with effort you direct your voice at the cockpit, “Tossing the droid! Take off when read- Shit.”

One of the droid's hip joints gets stuck on a portion of the hull wall, preventing you from moving his corpse. Something wizzes above you at the exact moment you duck down to adjust the body, right where the back of your head was a second ago. One of Xi’an’s triangle blades ricochets off the wall and slides across the floor, stopping right under your nose. Oh f-

“Fuck! Fly, fly, she's here Mando!” You lurch to the floor as the thrusters kick in, twisting your head to try and get eyes on the clearing. Through the rapidly closing ramp, you see a flash of purple skin, but before you have time to react the Crest door snaps shut. Heart thudding at what feels like a million beats per second, you try to get your bearings on the floor. Twisting sideways you suddenly find yourself face to face with Zero’s corpse, revulsion whipping through you like lightning as you scramble backward on your hands and feet.

You can’t do this right now.

The last thing you want is to seem weak and needy in front of the man who just selflessly saved your life, for reasons still unknown, but you can’t do this right now. A creature of habit, you fold your neck between your legs, the same reaction you had to the violence on Cantonica. A minute, you just need a minute, a minute and then this horrible drone will go away, and you can deal with this, you’re a fucking mercenary… the blackness swarming at the edges of your sight overtakes you all at once and you slide limply to the floor.

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

You aren’t sure how much time has passed once you rouse. At your request, Mando tosses Zero's body before kicking into hyperdrive right about 120,000 feet in the air. You stare at its flight path until the speck disappears in the taupe shithole that is Cantonica. Feeling shaky as your adrenaline finally dips, you decide that the Crest could do with a once over before the long journey.

After performing a quick analysis on the Crests systems it’s determined that the two of you are lucky this hunk of metal can fly. Hyperdrive operating at 67% capacity, weak communication signal if it even works half the time, plus more damage than you can currently process. If there weren’t five million different stressors weighing on you, your mechanic brain would probably explode at the current state of Mando’s ship. He probably should’ve taken it to you, or anyone else handy with tools if he wanted it to be in proper form for departure, but it makes sense that he didn’t want to draw too much attention. Hopefully, his pilot skills will compensate for the Crest’s sorry state.

To be fair, the whole blow-up-your-coworker-and-run-for-your-life aspect didn’t seem to be in Mando’s original plan.

“So… where are we going?” You’re on the floor in the cockpit, back facing the passenger chair while the Mandalorian is seated pilot. After crawling under the console for a while you couldn’t bother to lift your aching muscles on the chair, resigning to scoot on your butt over to the closest object that could support you. As a result, you end up craning your neck to look up at him, his back straight in the chair.

“My original plan was to head to Nevarro to take on a few quarries. I’m still with the guild and Karga doesn’t give a shit whether I’m running with Ran or going in alone.” You bite your lip anxiously. Oh yeah, you kinda forgot your presence threw wrench in his plan. He notices and tilts the helmet sideways at you, “You’re not in the way. I’m not concerned about you joining me, someone of your skillset is helpful to have around. I’ll introduce you to Karga so you can get on your feet.”

The compliment lifts your spirits enough to make you playful, poking at his boot with your toe, “Gee, glad I’m useful enough to keep around. All I have is my blaster and the clothes on my back, so if you drop me, I’d be pretty fucked.”

You giggle quietly but you know it’s the truth. All of your possessions are back on the space station, but you didn’t own too many personal artifacts, aside from some clothes and weapons. The only thing of use would’ve been your credits. You worry again at the realization, dipping your head before continuing to speak,

“Shit Mando, I don’t have any money on me. It was all back in my bunk, I don’t know how I’ll help pay for things around here unless Karga decides I can take on a quarry right away. Even then I’ll have to bring it back before I ever have a lick to my name.”

“You can make it back. I’ll split the profit from jobs that you assist me on. Cut depends on how useful you are and once you prove yourself, Karga will give you the decent pucks.” He swivels the chair and faces you, knees slightly spread as he leans forward in the chair, “Deal?”

You swallow and nod your head, mind blanking at how your head is level with the bend in his hips. You don’t think he's trying to come across as suggestive but the effect, intentional or not, invites a flutter of desire in your tummy. The Mandalorian leans back on his leather backing and sighs, the sound gentle despite the modulator warping his natural tone,

“You aren’t in my way. I swear it. If I had more time before leaving I would’ve asked you to join me anyway, you're good with your hands and always had more… compassion? Than anyone else in the company. I admire that quality.” That makes you straighten back up to meet his visor. He sounds nearly shy.

“O-oh…” You never even thought he noticed you aside from when you touched up the Razor Crest. The compliment sends warmth throughout your body, as languid as sex pollen in the near feverish effect. You don’t know how to respond at all, you’re feeling disjointed, like you may reveal too much if you don't change the subject soon. You wish you could be snappier but you’re exhausted. Maybe try for a joke?

“I g-guess you value girls good with their hands, huh. H-haha?”

Silence. Hm.

That was the absolute worst thing you could’ve come up with.

It didn’t meet even a single one of your simple ass goals, which entail the following:

Thank him.

Change the subject.

Not reveal how much his words make you want him to rail you.

Wow, what the fuck- kill me. He hasn’t moved an inch, much less reacted to your shitty joke. The positioning of your bodies that you found so hot ten seconds prior is now a place you’d try anything to escape from. It’s almost comical how his height advantage serves to emphasize the disappointment in the small room. He hasn’t responded so you’re guessing he won’t bother to try. Heavy silence suffocates you to the point of desperation, you need to fill it with something right now or you swear you’ll die.

“I-I jus-t mean like- Well you had certain- ah- habits, you’d adhere to in your free time. Li-like um, I mean you didn’t hide much. Kinda obvious if you- listen, uh, I didn’t mean t-to say that I-I was joking around-”

“Get to the point.”

“I-” Your tummy fills with heat at his command. “Umm..” You wipe your hands on your thighs and glance down from his voice. The hours of on and off adrenaline must be majorly messing with your head. It’s kinda weird that you want him this badly after everything that went down today. Wasn’t your most recent concern something about avoiding death at the hands of a bitch you hate most in the galaxy? To be honest you can’t recall.

The proximity of his groin is suddenly at the forefront of your mind. Again.

He slowly tilts his helmet to look at you, arms bending to settle in a relaxed position on the armrests. You are extremely aware of how you’re blatantly staring at him but your mind is slow to come up with a valid response, blankness written in the reflection on his visor. His position on the chair is mountainous, looming over your body in a way that boxes you in between the passenger seat and the Crest console. You feel like a prey animal... In a sexy way? Maybe?

Although, when he leans back into his seat, helmet still trained on your face, you are unsure if you’re actually pissing him off or not.

“Say what you mean.”

Okay, the sexy is mixing a little with anxiety.

“Ah- Um well, I just mean like. It’s not like you hid it from me- everyone else too. In the company. Ran’s company? ‘Cause, I- We… always overheard you and Xi’a- Her…” Fuck, your mouth is so dry that last part came out like a squeak. “I’m sorry, I’m rambling again um, I kinda thought you were doing it on purpose. With Xi’an. Making me hear when you’d...fuck her.” Cheeks blazing, you duck your head back down, which doesn’t help at all since you’re just face to face with his crotch once more.

“You say ‘always’...” Mando’s inflection is lost somewhere between statement and question, his tone confusing enough that you end up lifting your head from its bowed position below him.

“Y-yes?”

“As in this was a common position you found yourself in? Did you overhear me multiple times?” Now he poses not one but two questions for you, neither of which you feel brave enough to answer steadily. You can’t deflect further at this point so you answer him with a sigh.

“No, I only heard you once. Xi’an always wanted me to hear her though. It was gross.” Mortified, you gather your legs under your body to stand up from the floor. You think the hyperdrive issue is fixed well enough to hold until Nevarro. When your hand reaches for the edge of the armrest to pull yourself up it is abruptly enveloped in warm leather. Half crouched, your arm jerks back a little in surprise at his touch.

“I wasn’t asking about myself specifically. And I wouldn’t force you to participate in her games, had I known.”

Maker strike my ass down. Can humans die from embarrassment? You wish it were possible if it got you out of this conversation. He’s correct, he didn’t specify whether you had heard his moaning. If you weren’t nursing these stupid feelings for Mando you never would’ve given away the fact that you memorized every tantalizing second of what you overheard. Not only is this embarrassing, but you don’t want him to think you’re a sicko who wanted to eavesdrop in the first place. The clarification about his awareness of Xi'an's timing is comforting but not enough to erase what you already admitted to him. You somehow feel sweaty and bone-dry at the same time, a flush spreading over your face.

“I’m so sorry.”

“I heard you too.”

You both speak at the same second, and a beat passes before either of you process what the other said. He- what? What is he talking about? Are we having two totally different conversations right now? When did you ever fuck someone on that space station anyway… unless he means… in the fresher…

This time he is the one who breaks the silence, “You’re sorry for… overhearing me?”

“Y-yes, I really, really, don’t want you to think I’m a creep or anything. Anything I heard was involuntary, I swear. Xi’an w-wanted to make me… Um…” You trail off shyly, sitting down again. His hand is still over yours.

“Get to the point.” His voice is filled with heat now, so low and compelling that you’d tell him anything just to keep it that way. You whisper your response, lifting your eyes to his dark visor wishing you could meet his gaze.

“She wanted to make me jealous. Over you.”

“Mm… You wanted me instead?”

“Maker, yes.”

The climate between you and the Mandalorian made a 180. Nerves dissolving like honey in tea, all at once being taken over by a hum of sexual tension while his fingers caress a warm pattern over your knuckles. Exhilaration builds within you, though in the back of your mind you are calculating the possible motives behind his advance.

You know sometimes, after a particularly rough day, people are compelled to relieve their pent-up stress through intimacy. There’s a reason why the market of sex work thrives under wartime, terror existing constantly in a fighter’s life must be paired with the softer, inner-most comforts of knowing another living being, or they’d go mad with sorrow. Brothels made a lot of money during the last stages of the Empire’s rule from both Imps, Rebels, and neutral parties alike.

It’s not out of the ordinary for you to seek each other out right now, yet can’t help but dream that this might mean more.

The Mandalorian’s hand currently encasing yours flips your wrist to trace the lines of your palm. Sighing you tilt your head to the side, a curtain of hair cascading across your features. His free hand reaches out to brush the strands away before he gently grips your jaw, hand large enough to press his thumb on the front of your chin while his fingers wrap lightly under your ear.

“I heard you too, pretty girl. You called out for me in the fresher… just what were you doing in there? Describe it- please.” He speaks with such allure that you break under his voice, pressing your cheek to his palm.

“I-I thought of you watching me while I touched my pussy. I was so wet thinking about how I want you to feel me after being under all your armor, Stars, even the wind can’t touch you Mando. I thought about how you must crave the feeling of something so soft… can I show you how soft I am?” Your free hand raises to rest gently on his knee, fingertips hesitating at the edge of his thigh piece. He is still fully suited for battle, explosives strapped to one boot and rifle across his shoulders.

You wish so badly to help him unwind, you would never disrespect him by trying to remove his armor, but you want to help him move past the experience that was Cantonica. Mando continues to stare at you for several tense seconds before melting into your touch.

“H-helmet stays on.” He breathes out shakily, a slight tremor running through his legs as your fingers lightly explore the fabric under the edge of the piece of metal. “But the rest… the rest can come off.”

He’s already moving to undo the magnetic connectors holding his cuirass in place so you scramble to follow his movements. The rust-colored armor on his body has complex enough attachments that you don’t really know where to begin. Your hands clamber around, mostly following his deft movements. Slowly a man of flesh and blood is revealed, and as his impenetrable exterior melts away you find the true shape of him.

The armor serves to add a few inches of bulk on his features, enhanced proportions making out a dramatic silhouette designed to be spotted from miles away. Without it his body is still so powerful, built hard as stone and broad, hard angles melding enticingly with a hidden softness. Not hidden- you realize -it compliments him completely. The pieces fall away and you’re left with the unexplored bareness of him. He is human and warm, evidence of this betrayed in rare moments where his hands travel lightly up your arms while you work at his pauldrons, brushing through your hair here and there before finally returning to your jaw to hover in front of your lips.

“Off.” He instructs shortly, brushing the seam of his thumb over your bottom lip. Your mouth falls open to explore him with your tongue, tasting salt, blaster residue, and a hint of the heat he holds in his body. Satisfied, you bite down gently on the glove ridge, watching as he pulls off the leather encasing his hand and drinking in the sight of golden skin as it is revealed to you inch by inch. All you’ve seen of him is one bare hand and somehow it is the sexiest thing you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Flames lick your body, spreading from your white-hot core, energy gathering with such impassioned motions that at any second now it will burst from your skin, a reaction so immense that you could birth another galaxy.

You want to taste his skin too.

“Fuck baby-” You take his middle finger down to the knuckle, emboldened by his slurred reaction, noises startling to babble out of the bounty hunter as his stoicism falls apart under your tongue. Humming around the digit, you start to bob your head gently, eyes locked on his impassive visor while filthy, filtered noises drift through the beskar. It’s like there is no barrier at all between you, the air thrumming with a longing so great that you feel one with the man crumbling before you. If you're not careful you will fall with him.

“Mando, Plea-se,” You stutter around him, voice shaking more than intended. “I want to f-feel more of you, let me touch you, please-” You squawk, mouth empty when he suddenly rips off the other glove, tossing it behind him before reaching down his torso to pull the hem of his trousers south. You gulp in trepidation, unable to tear your eyes away as enticing dark hair displays itself, leading to the base of his cock. He pauses, but you’re so caught up in discovering him that you don’t notice the tonal shift.

“Before I show you this-” dark words enunciated by palming his cock through the fabric, “I need to know where to put it.”

What kind of question is that? You’re honestly bewildered, mind blank before you realize that the options are overwhelming. In his own way, he is asking you to verbalize consent, which is very much appreciated. You want him in your pussy, to work his way deep in your body and in turn, discover just how human you are... yet… You feel oddly unprepared. It’s not that you don't think you can take him, in fact you can't recall ever being this wet in your life. It’s just… after today… you want to help him unwind but you’re still not fully there. You still want to please him, but you’re not ready to let him know you that way, not until you come back to yourself.

So in that case…

“I want you in my mouth, hunter.”

Mando growls then grabs your wrist, guiding it over the edge of fabric and onto his throbbing length. He shudders while you process the feeling of him. He is thick, the width of his cock so wide that your middle finger and thumb are straining to meet each other. You release him from his pants then try to pull at the hem to wiggle them down his thighs. He obliges and lifts his hips so that you can reveal more delicious olive skin, but he makes no move to assist you with his hands. You get the feeling that he is drinking in your efforts to touch him, the sensation of your jerky movements giving away how much you want him.

You kiss and nibble at every possible moment, one hand drifting lightly over the length of him, twirling at the base dusted with short, dark hairs, cupping his balls then moving back up, your mouth traveling to meet your fingers. Hissing, his hand flashes up to meet the back of your head, fingers tangling in strands to tug tightly on your scalp. With a light moan, you tongue along the side of him, teasing hot air more than actually licking him.

“Look at me- fuck - pretty thing, s-so fucking willing for me, I want to see you take my cock as far as you can, s-show me how much you can handle-” He pulls harder at your hair, dragging you roughly enough to control your neck, back up from where you were sucking at his hip to the head of his dick. “Are you going to show me yourself before or after I gag you on it?”

Fuck, you never realized how tantalizing submitting to another person could be, not until that came out of his mouth, rough enough to clip through the modulator. You elect to show him what you can handle. Leaning forward to meet the swollen tip, you part your plush lips and kiss at the drop of precum gathered there, before relaxing your jaw to take him halfway. He groans and nearly doubles over at the sudden sensation, holding you there for a second before you draw back up to spread your saliva more thoroughly. Lips rewet, you sink back down on him, gliding smoothly as you pull his cock deep within your mouth, drinking in his breathy groans.

“Maker, yes … that’s it, fuck-” You attempt to sink even further down on the Mandalorian’s impressive length, but stop short a few inches from his base, blunt head pressing in your throat. “-so good, s-so good for me baby, you look perfect like this.”

He’s so far back inside you that you can’t access your vocal cords to produce any noise at all, otherwise you’d be whining at his praise. Your hands are free to assist you at any time, you could circumvent his daunting length if you wanted help. But you want to impress him. Besides, your palms are warm on his torso, traveling under his shirt to feel the ropes of muscle there. You don’t want to remove them.

You surface to the tip, taking a deep breath in preparation before ducking to take him as deep as you can manage. He watches you, entranced at the sight of a face so lovingly strained to please him. Your gag reflex spasms but you will it away, determined to fully engulf his cock at least once even if you find you’re unable to handle more. The noises rising from your throat are brutal and raw as you choke around him, his helmet blurring when tears fill your eyes. You bob a little then almost give up when the urge to retreat floods your senses but then he starts talking again- so filthy that you can’t stop yet.

“You’re trying so fucking hard, fuck, I love seeing you wrapped around my cock, Maker, you feel so fucking good, I can’t imagine how your little pussy must feel, you’re so warm, so, fu-fuck, tight…” The stream of filth serves as your motivation to bob for as long as possible on his length, throat stretched obscenely around him. You realize hazily that there are tears streaming from your eyes, but the urge to pull off is lost in dizziness as the oxygen in your lungs depletes. You keep going and going, your high at its peak as you recognize that your body is starting to fade in black. You should pull off and breathe, one quick breath is all you need, but the way he’s filling you is more addicting than the purest Spice. He notices when you start to slump into his lap and pulls you up gasping for air.

Nearly fainting never felt so good.

“Shit, are you alright?” You nod and rest your cheek on his thigh, face turned on its side to meet his visor as he spins little circles in your vision. A soothing hand brushes against your cheekbone, tracing a gentle pattern on its height. “You were doing so good for me baby. No need to hurt yourself.” Mando’s voice is still breathless, offering you tenderness through a cloud of stimuli.

“I’m okay- I’m… I just need to catch m-my breath.” You’re still heaving unevenly but you want him so bad, you want him to finish for you, your wants translating into weak pawing at his dick trying to give him more sensation. He catches your wrist with an airy laugh and guides your uncoordinated movements to better stroke him. The sound fills you with light.

“Pretty thing, I know you want me. Try to not die on my dick before I’ve had the chance to feel your cunt.” His hand leaves yours on his length and reaches over your ass to cup the apex of your thighs through your pants. You jerk up and almost crack the crown of your head open on the chin of his beskar but his other palm is pressed between your shoulder blades, keeping you bent over in his lap. A garbled noise tears from you when his index and ring finger spread on either side of your outer lips, allowing his middle finger space to travel up and down your seam, so wet that you can feel the slickness gathering through two layers of fabric onto the tip of his finger.

“Ah, Fuck! Mando, I-I- wait please, please, wait-” He draws his hand up away from your wet center, reaching your asscheek before you yelp and snatch his forearm to stop him from retreating farther. “I s-still wanna, I wanna make you come. You first, before-before me.”

“Baby, you’re… fuck okay. Can I still touch you?” Mando caresses your hip at the fold where it meets your thigh.

“Later, let me d-do this, please.” He allows you to lift his arm from your spine and rest it on the crown of your head as you move forward and try to meet his cock again. Pulling his thighs to the edge of the chair, you settle back on your knees and stroking him one-handed while he hums low in his throat. You wrap your lips around the swollen head, sucking and swirling your tongue before taking him deeper, this time using a palm to stroke the last few inches instead of opening your throat. Starting up a rhythm of bopping and stroking his velvety length that pulls incredible noises out of the Mandalorian, each one going straight to your swollen clit.

Coming up for air you start to jerk him off faster with your slick hand, meeting the T of his visor with your heated gaze, hoping that you are finding his eyes. He must enjoy the sight of you jerking him off because his moans start to tighten, hips thrusting into your palm.

“K-keep fucking doing that, good girl, fuck I-I’m close, where-where do you want it, baby?” You respond by settling low near his thighs, putting his cock above you with your tongue sticking out, wetting the tip while your wrist moves faster. Somehow he’s harder than ever and-

Mando curses through his teeth as his cock convulses, warm spurts of cum painting your tongue, cheeks, and nose bridge, rivers of him flowing down your chin and dribbling on the swell of your chest. He grips the back of your head tight enough to hurt, then rips one hand down to stroke himself, smearing the mess across your features.

The fingers on your scalp loosen then graciously begin rubbing at the base of your neck to soothe the soreness on your head. One of your eyelids is sealed shut due to a rope of his cum crossing from nose to eyebrow, the other eye unfocused, hazy with pleasure as you listen to him come down from his peak. A low noise rises from your throat as he massages your scalp, feeling tingly all over as blood flows back to the area.

“T-Thank you… that was great, I-“ he breaks off when you start to gather his cum off your skin, licking it off your fingers while studying his visor through your lashes. “Hey, let me…”

He surprises you by wiping at your face with his cape, still hanging off the arm of the pilot chair from when you detached it. You giggle, “Is there a way to wash that on here? I can’t even tell if that hole in the wall includes a shower.”

“There’s enough to work with.”

You laugh louder at that, “That’s encouraging. I hope there’s ‘enough to work with’ so that I don’t meet Karga covered in cum.” Pausing to consider your current position, you add, “Actually, that might help my case.”

Face wiped mostly clean, you're able to open both eyes now, taking in his posture. A jolt shoots through you when you realize he’s holding himself differently for some reason, he looks almost predatory but maybe that’s just the effect of Beskar’s harsh angles... Nope, he’s leaning forward now, caging you in again.

“You want to look sexy for Karga?” Gulping, you try to figure out the best response but he continues before your slow-ass mind can catch up, “You’re right, that might help you get better pucks. But I don’t know if I want my hunting partner to be introduced that way. I still need to return the favor…”

He lifts your body with ease, pulling you sideways onto his lap. Mando’s warm hand slides along the bend in your knee, slow and sensual on your body. He caresses you aimlessly, relaxed in the afterglow of cumming so hard. You’re still tightly wound, energy balled in your body as his movements serve to wind you up even more. But he’s not moving any faster so you relax into his broad chest, enjoying the feeling of his bare skin.

Time blurs with your senses. His touch pulls you to a place right out of your daydreams, where everything is draped in velveteen and silk. You’ve honestly forgotten his original goal in the first place, and as his arm begins to drag on its path, it seems like he has too. The stroking on your arm has lowered your arousal to a simmer, leaving you content to stay laying across his lap, the glow of hyperspace streaking over your bodies. All at once, you realize he’s no longer moving over your body, his chest rising and falling deeply against your shoulder.

He’s asleep. Surprise registers sleepily somewhere in your exhausted mind, the realization behind layers of warm fuzz. Didn’t even think he slept.

There’s a full day of travel until you reach Nevarro. Snuggling closer into the warm crook of his neck to resolve to live in this dream for as long as possible. Who knows what tomorrow will bring.

#the mandalorian #din djarin #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x reader insert #mando x reader #reader insert #fanfic #star wars #mandalorian fanfic #din djarin x reader #smut #smut fic #mandalorian smut fanfic #the mandalorian x you #mando x you

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is-nini · 3 years

Text

Genshin impact x reader

Episode: 3

Title: a day with master Diluc

A/n: SORRY THIS TOOK A LONG TIME- I’m sorry for any mistake and also, please enjoy! possible love interest for now will be : Diluc, Kaeya, Albedo, Zhongli, Childe, Xiao, Beidou, Ningguang.

And with that your fate has been decided, you'll be with Master Diluc for the rest of the day... Until who knows when.

a quiet silence just waves over you and master Diluc after Paimon and Aether said goodbye and walks out the door. master Diluc doesn't seem like a bad person.. he’s just... kinda cold.

“ follow me".

the red hair man said as he walks towards the exit door. not wanting to be left alone at the bar you chase after him. you went pass people that you have meet before as they greets you and master Diluc in a friendly manner.

“oh! y/n! hello master Diluc”.

Barbara went up to the both of you and greets the both of you. you greets her back, smiling and waving while master Diluc just gave her a nod.

“what are you both doing?”

she asked, master Diluc just stays quiet, you also stay quiet, not knowing what to say, where are you actually going? you thought to yourself as you both neared the gateway. you guess that Barbara senses the quietness and nod, pretending to understand the awkward situation. she laugh awkwardly.

“w-well.. uhh have fun..?”

she said and bid you both goodbye. the silence began again. a sound of foot steps caught your attention. you look up and saw master Diluc took another step, you instantly follows him.

“uhm.. so master Diluc.. do you have any thing for me to do?”.

you ask suspiciously. why would he take you when it was clearly stated that AETHER is the one who will be your tour guide? is he- kidnapping you?!?!? wait no way he is kidnapping you.. you don't have money, you're not even THAT important in this world yet. master Diluc stopped walking and lookback at you and that's when you notice there is a carriage in front of you and him ‘where did that come from’ you ask yourself.. but that's not important yet.

“you don't need to do anything, just follow my lead and answer my questions”

he opened the carriage door and step aside. you look at him weirdly and scoff quietly. you stare back at him.

“how.. can i trust you?”.

is what you said. okay, you might not have money or power but- you could turn into a human resources or-

"before you think about anything weird. I suggest you to put your wild thoughts down".

P-pft what excuse me? Did this man just read your mind? Well... He is right. Master Diluc folds his hand Infront of his chest.

" what makes you think i have the motive to kidnapped you?".

Wow.... Perhaps master Diluc is that type of ikemen you guess.... The cold but very sweet and- okay you're getting off topic.

"w-well".

"just follow me and there will be no problems between us".

Anddd with that you end up in the carriage with a handsome red man that possibly could kill you and make you look like a criminal. You sigh and looks out the window, you pass by trees and cliff's until a certain place comes into view.

"we arrived at the first location that they found you".

You look around.. this place is quite nice ... The sand looks so.. good here .. and the water is so clean... And blue, the sky and the scenery in general is very pretty and magical.

"woah.."

You mutter out, the red haired man cough to get your attention, you look back at him with no hesitation.

"does.. this place helps you brings back your memories as to where you came from?".

You shake your head no when in reality you are lying so SO bad... Gosh.. if they caught you.. what punishment will you get? Jail?.... Death?. You shake your hand and stare at the red haired man, master Diluc has been staring at you... At least that's what you assume. You sigh again. Gosh.. city of freedom? This doesn't feel free at all.

"listen, master Diluc. Let me come clean and just say i don't remember where I'm from or what is my purpose of being here, but trust me. I have no ill intent".

Diluc stares at you suspiciously, you doesn't seem like you are lying... And you seem very clueless about most of the things here.

"okay then".

Is all he said. You sigh a little and walk towards the water as the sky slowly turning golden ish with pink tint. You remember about the times where you would hang out with your friends on the beach, laughing and having fun. You might not notice the sad face that you're presenting but master Diluc sure does. Master Diluc didn't trust you, not one bit, yet he didn't say anything more to you. The expression of your face looks like you're missing something or someone, that is a little hint of you possibly lying.

"well then, perhaps it's time we brings you back to Aether".

You heard him and instantly snapped out of your thoughts, you run to catch-up to master Diluc and started to make your way to Aether.

Once you reach Mondstat gate, purple girl... Lisa..?, Jean, Aether, Barbara, Kaeya, Paimon and a unknown red girl is standing on the gateway.

"ah! Lookie! Y/n and master Diluc is back".

A high pitched voice, who you assume would be Paimon is talking and alerting the rest of the group. They all looked at your direction with a relieved smile.

"oh! You're both are back.. safely!".

Master Diluc only nods his head while you confusedly looks at them.

"what's with the reunion? Anything happens?"

Master Diluc said, the red girl with brown hair steps towards the both of you.

"the hilicurl activities is getting more and more active.. not only that the rate of the hilicurl around the area increases by alot".

Hilicurl? The name of the monster right...? Interesting.

"ah we didn't encounter any hilicurl fortunately, I'll be sure to help kill them if any of those things were in sight".

A thankyou was heard from the girl, she turned her head towards you and smile brightly at you.

"hello there new girl from nowhere! My name is Amber what's yours?"

She asked, you giggle at her antic's and smile at her, waving towards her.

"my name is y/n, nice to meet you Amber!"

At least she is nice... She can be your friend.. you sigh a little, she doesn't seems like she is judging you, you can tell that you both will be a great friends.

"this is your room for now..."

Barbara said, showing you the room that you waken up from today, you walked inside and everything is normal and similar but with a little more furniture to make it more homely and comfy. You turned your head towards Barbara and walked towards her, you grab her hand and show her a huge smile.

"thankyou Barbara!"

You exclaimed, she seems shocked but smile at you nevertheless. you both bid your goodbye and proceed to sleep on the white bed. it was comfy.. the scene outside the window is absolutely breath taking.. as the sun sets. you led out one last sigh for the day. a day with master Diluc is pretty dull... and went by so fast.. you do hope that you'll get to know him better near the future.

Taglist:

@laic2299 @inlustris-is-slowly-dying @dreaminselfinserts

#genshin diluc #diluc x y/n #diluc ragnivindr x reader #diluc x reader #diluc x you #genshin impact #genshin fanfiction #genshin fanfic

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avengerscompound · 4 years

Text

Running to a Standstill - 18

Running to a Standstill: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count: 2893

Rating: E

Warnings: Smut (mmf bisexual threesome, oral sex, vaginal sex, anal sex)

Synopsis: While on the run from an unknown organization trying to take your son, you meet two super-soldiers. While they try to help you get to the bottom of who is hunting you and your son, feelings come out and admissions are made that make your personal life even more tricky.

Epilogue

Your feet hurt a little and you were hungry to the point that you were considering just tearing a piece off the sourdough loaf you’d bought, and eating it plain before you even finished your ride up in the elevator. Even with these minor discomforts, you felt really good. You had just ventured out to the nearest bodega alone for the first time since moving to the Tower.

It had been eight months since the raid on Madripoor and while everyone had doubts that HYDRA was gone for good the new rightful ruler of Madripoor was pretty thorough with cleaning the NAZI organization out of their nation. Not for any particular need to clear out all criminal organizations mind you, just to clear out the one creating the most competition. Madripoor was for all accounts, still lawless.

All the people involved in the production and distribution of the super-soldier drug had been arrested. You had hopes that the drug might end up virtually extinct the way the Quaalude was now. However, you logically knew someone who still had them would try and replicate them. Given the fact that the drugs existed in the first place because someone was trying to replicate what they’d done to Steve way back in 1943.

What you’d stopped being worried about was them bothering you anymore. The Avengers, thanks to Tony, Vision, FRIDAY, and with a little help from Geo, had managed to remove any details regarding the names of people who were experimented on. Which meant there was no one left to know that Geo had powers and no one left to hunt you. You were safe and you could finally have some semblance of a normal life.

It had taken you a while for any of you to trust that. For a month you still didn’t want to go out at all just in case there was some kind of retaliation or last-ditch effort to grab you. When you finally did it was with Bucky and a group of guards. Gradually the guards dropped in number. When all the HYDRA members were convicted you started to go out with just Bucky and every time you went out, there was no one watching you that shouldn’t be. No one followed you or made you feel unsafe. Sure, Bucky would get looks but you could tell the difference between Avengers groupies and the people who had been trying to kidnap your son.

Today was the first time you’d ventured out alone. It was only down the street and you still weren’t brave enough to take Geo out without at least Bucky or Steve with you, but it was a start. You’d only looked over your shoulder a few times. You’d done this alone for years, you knew what to look out for and it wasn’t there. You were safe.

More than safe, you were happy. With all that weight off your shoulders, you were able to just enjoy life again. Every part of it. Being a mother wasn’t just a case of protection and high alert twenty-four/seven. You played with Geo more. You let your guard down and let him get on with the job of being a kid. You started to look back into the things you had studied in college and were seriously beginning to consider studying again so you might be able to have an actual career and not just a cash-under-the-table job that paid your bills but kept you off the books. You were looking at schools for Geo. You were letting yourself be a girlfriend and opening yourself up to the fact that this could be it. You might have actually found two people that were your people the same way your husband had been.

The apartment was alive with sound and smells as you stepped in. Bucky was cooking, he’d just started when you’d ducked down to the bodega for a couple of missing ingredients and now the whole place was full of the scent of garlic, herbs, and cooking tomato. Music was playing over the speaker and Geo seemed to be talking animatedly with the AI as the two of them played some digital version of snap using his tablet. Steve sat with a sketchbook on his knee. There were crayons scattered over the table from when he’d been drawing with Geo but now he was just sitting with his pencil poised but not actually drawing anything.

“He looked up when you came in and smiled. “Hey, sweetheart. How did you go?”

“Good,” you said, as Bucky abandoned whatever it was he was stirring and rushed over to you. “Got a little jumpy at the alleys but there was nothing to worry about.”

“Did you get what I needed?” Bucky asked, digging around your fabric bag while it still hung from your elbow and fishing out items as he found them.

“Yes, honey,” you said, pushing the whole bag into his hands. “Here take it.”

Bucky took the bag and you went to sit down with Steve and Geo. Steve took your hand as you went to pass him, and you let him pull you down into his lap. “I’m proud of you,” he whispered.

“It wasn’t that big of a deal,” you said. “I used to go out on my own all the time when I was on the run. I didn’t have a lot of other choices.”

Steve’s arm circled your waist and he nosed at the side of your neck. “I know. Still. I’m glad you're starting to feel safe.”

You relaxed in his lap and Geo climbed up onto you. You did feel safe. And loved. And all the things you had missed for three years. Despite the fact you had been trying to go slow for Geo’s sake, it was hard when you felt like this with them. It was clear that Geo was feeling just as safe and at home as you were.

When he was very upset he was still the mommy’s boy he’d always been, but more and more he was turning to Steve and Bucky. Not just when he wanted to be comforted. He did it when he was excited about something, or wanted to play a game, or have a story told to him. He’d ask them to take him out or take him up to the pool. As scary as it was for you to see Geo starting to treat these two men the way he would have his own father, as melancholy as that hit, it was still happening. Geo now had two father figures where he once had none.

Even though neither had said anything about it, you could tell they were seeing Geo as a son too. This was your family now and some moments terrified you, but mostly you couldn’t believe how lucky you were. There were days where you thanked whatever force it was that had led you to not only apply for a lease in Clint Barton’s apartment block but to begin dog sitting for him so that you just happened to be dropping Lucky off at the same time Steve and Bucky were there.

Bucky called you all for dinner and you ate around a table sharing stories about your day and making plans for the following day. Just like a family on an old sitcom, only with extra dads and you all genuinely liked each other.

After dinner you gave Geo his bath and took him to bed, reading to him from a comic about Figment the dragon from that old Disney ride at Epcot. It was a comic that Bucky owned for some reason which was odd because he would have been in cryo freeze during the entire time that ride even existed, yet he had it none-the-less. Geo spent a lot of time looking at each picture so that the thin comic that would normally only take five minutes to get through was being dragged out so it was closer to twenty.

“Bug-key sayed dat dis dwagons was a robod,” Geo said, tapping the cover when you were done reading.

You chuckled. “It was, and it’s weird he even knows that,” you confirmed. “The robot dragon is gone now. We can take you to Disney World some time, then you can see all the different robots. I don’t think any of them will be as smart as FRIDAY though.”

“No…” Geo said, shaking his head. “FWIDAY is da smartest.”

“Thank you, Geo,” FRIDAY replied, the fondness of the little boy evident in her voice.

“Alright, you,” you said, putting the comic away. “Lie down. Time to sleep.”

He flopped back onto the pillow and you kissed his forehead. “Good night, I love you,” you said.

“Wuv you too, mommy,” he replied. “Have sweed dreams.”

“You too, little one.”

“Mommy,” he said as you got up. “I dotta say goodnight to Bug-key and Steeb.”

You chuckled. “I’ll send them in.”

You stepped out of the bedroom to find Bucky and Steve sharing the recliner as they watched the news. “He wants to say goodnight to both of you too.”

“We can manage that,” Steve said as they both got up.

Bucky and Steve went into Geo’s room as you went and got ready for bed too. It was still early but you figured whatever the plans were for tonight, they’d be more enjoyable in your pajamas. When you came out into the bedroom you shared with Bucky and Steve, they were there getting undressed.

“He didn’t cause you any trouble?” You asked.

“No. He just said goodnight and had FRIDAY turn out the lights,” Steve answered.

“I like when I’m here to say goodnight to him,” Bucky added. “He’s so funny how he wishes you sweet dreams too.”

“Yeah, we can use them,” Steve added.

“Speaking of,” you said and looked over at Steve. Lately, when you and Steve had been alone, you’d started talking about Bucky moving in. He was here a lot anyway and the times he wasn’t it felt like he was missing. The three of you still took time to enjoy each other one-on-one, but now you were all happier and more relaxed when it was the three of you.

Bucky froze in the process of stepping out of his jeans and stared at you like a deer in headlights. “What? What did I do?”

“Nothing, Buck,” Steve chuckled. “We were wondering… hoping really, that you’d move in here with us.”

“What? Really?” Bucky said, standing up straight and looking between the two of you.

“Yeah. You don’t have to decide right now…” Steve said.

“No, I want to,” Bucky said, lurching forward, completely forgetting he was still in his jeans and falling flat on his face.

“Bucky!” You yelped, rushing to his side and helping him back up, while Steve watched on with a slightly bemused look on his face.

“I’m okay. I’m good,” Bucky assured you as he got back up and kicked off his pants. “I want to move in. When?”

“Whenever you like,” Steve said. “We can bring your stuff down tomorrow if you like.”

“I do like,” Bucky said. He pulled you close and cradled your face. “Yes, I want to.” He leaned in and kissed you deeply. As the two of you kissed, Bucky reached out to Steve, pulling him closer, so when Bucky pulled back from you, he moved straight to kissing him. You ran your hands down Steve’s chest and nuzzled at Bucky’s neck, nipping at his throat gently.

Bucky pulled back and smirked at you. “You tryin’ to start up some celebrations, huh?”

“Maybe?” You giggled, tugging on his boxers.

“I think that might be something that can be arranged,” Steve teased. He picked you up like you weighed nothing and tossed you onto the bed. You squealed and quickly spread your legs and opened your arms to Bucky as he crawled up your body. He began to unbutton your flannel pajama top and kissed your skin along each new part that became exposed to him. His fingers brushed over your breasts as he pulled the fabric apart and your right nipple, puckered and hardened under the cool metal of his left hand.

Steve took off his boxers and moved up beside you. He leaned in and kissed you. His lips moved slowly against yours and his tongue teased the corner of your mouth. You reached down and massaged his cock. He was already semi-hard and as your palm moved up and down his length and you curled your fingers around his shaft, the blood rushed to it.

Bucky began to grind down against your cunt. You could feel the press of his cock through the fabric of your pants, the thick shaft pushing between your folds and rubbing up and down against your pussy, making your whole body tingle and your cunt start to drip. He leaned down and pulled one of your nipples into his mouth. His teeth pressed against it and you moaned, breaking the kiss with Steve and arching your back so you pushed your breast up into Bucky’s greedy mouth.

Steve moved to his knees, pumping his cock as he looked down at you. You leaned up and lapped over the head as it disappeared and reappeared under the foreskin with each pump of Steve’s hand. He teased the head over your lips and you opened your mouth, letting him guide his cock into your mouth.

As you sucked hard up and down Steve’s shaft, Bucky moved from one breast to the other. His hand slipped down into your pajama pants and he quickly fingered your clit in small circles as he ground his cock against you.

Your whole body buzzed like an electric current was swirling through your veins, making your body thrum. You moaned into Steve’s cock as a hot pit pressed down inside you and your fluids slicked your folds. Bucky pulled back and pulled your pajama pants off. You released Steve’s cock and no sooner had you sat up that Steve was up beside you and pulling you into his lap.

“Mmm… did you want something?” You asked as you straddled his lap and started to grind down on his cock.

Steve cradled your jaw. “I think you know,” he teased. You smirked and leaned in and kissed him deeply. As you dipped your tongue into his mouth, you guided him inside of you.

You both moaned into the kiss and you slowly rolled your hips with his, appreciating the way he stretched and filled you. Bucky got up and grabbed the lube. He moved behind you and kissed your shoulder as he put his hand on Steve’s chest and pushed him back on the bed. You lay down with him, pressing your body against his chest and continuing to bounce on his cock as Bucky lifted Steve’s legs and pushing them up against your sides. He began to apply lube to Steve’s ass, sinking a finger into Steve’s ass.

Steve gasped and bucked up under you. You broke the kiss with Steve and you looked down into his blue eyes. “Feel good, Steve?” You purred.

He groaned and closed his eyes. “Yes. Oh god, yes.”

“You want my cock, Stevie?” Bucky teased.

“Please,” Steve groaned arching his back and forcing his cock up into you deeper.

Bucky took his hand away and slicked his cock. Steve raised his hips needily and as Bucky sunk in Steve groaned and dug his fingers into your hips. You started kissing Steve again and moved with Bucky as he started to thrust. Bucky’s stomach pushed your forward with every snap of his hips, pushing you up and down on Steve’s cock. Steve was breathless and moaning under you both. He reached up and grabbed Bucky’s hand, holding it against your back as the two of you fucked him.

A sheen of sweat began to cling to your skin and your skin prickled. A dull ache built in your cunt, making your walls clench and spasm around Steve’s thick shaft. Steve groaned and his hands opened and closed on your back. You slipped your hand between the two of you and began to finger your clit.

It brought you over. Your orgasm shuddered through you and you moaned loudly. Steve gasped and jerked up under you, coming deep inside your pussy. Bucky kept thrusting. His hand tightened in Steve’s and his hips began to stutter. You kept being bounced forward on Steve’s now softening cock with each thrust of Bucky’s hips. With a groan and a hard thrust, Bucky came.

The three of you slithered into a pile, your breathing coming much more labored than theirs. Bucky rolled on his side and ran his metal fingers down your stomach. “We break you?”

“Mm-hmm…” You hummed. “In the best way.”

“Well we can now do that any time,” he said.

You laughed and pushed him. “Did you forget I have a toddler?”

Bucky hummed and kissed your shoulder.

“Big changes,” Steve said. “It’ll be good though. Us together.”

You smiled and cuddled in between us. He was right. It was a big change. You had been through a lot of change in the last five years, but this was the first one since Geo was born that you felt truly excited about one.

To be continued in Until the End of the World...

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #stucky #steve rogers x bucky barnes #stucky x reader #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #captain america fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert

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cryingcow · 4 years

Text

Character Story - Kiryu (Junior High Student) [RGGO]

Remember how in Kiwami there’s a Majima Everywhere event where Majima accuses Kiryu of reading sexy magazines outside of M Store and Kiryu just snaps? Well, this may or may not be the backstory to that XD

We don’t have Junior High in our country, so how old is a JH student? 13? 14? Either way, if I were the one in Kiryu’s position, I’m pretty sure I’d be crying the entire time. Kudos to our Dragon Baby for staying strong!

Story: Kiryu enters a bookstore to buy the latest issue of Dragon Ball, and ends up getting accused of stealing a porn magazine and earning a reputation in Kamurocho.

Kazama: “It’s normal for a growing boy to feel these things, Kazuma. You see when a man and a woman love each other very much-”

Kiryu: “AaAaAaAAaaAAaaaAAAaAaaA!!!”

For those who don’t know, the H stands for "hentai" :D

CHAPTER 1

|When Kiryu Kazuma was a junior high student . . .|

|On that day, Kiryu was visiting a bookstore.|

[Bookstore]

Bookstore Clerk: “Welcome.”

Kiryu: “Now . . . what to do . . .”

Kiryu: (Today is the release of the latest issue of ‘Dragon Bowling’ . . . but if I buy it now, I’ll be broke for the rest of the month. But I really want to read the new issue . . . hmm, I’m conflicted.)

{The front door opens.}

Bookstore Clerk: “Welcome.”

Bald Guy: “. . .”

Kiryu: (. . . What is with that bald guy? He keeps glaring over here . . . Hm? It looks like I wandered into the erotic books corner . . . Ah, so it wasn’t me he was looking at. This is awkward, there’s only the two of us here. I don’t want to linger here too much . . .)

Kiryu: “Well then, I need to decide if I’m going to buy that book or not. Hmm . . .”

{Bald Guy bumps into Kiryu.}

Bald Guy: “Oops . . . you shouldn’t be standing there, bro, you’re in the way.”

Kiryu: “What . . . ?”

{Bald Guy leaves the store.}

Bookstore Clerk: “Thank you very much.”

Kiryu: “Tch. What’s with that guy? Bumping into someone and not even buying anything. . . . I should just go home for today. If I still have money at the end of the month, then I’ll buy it.”

Bookstore Clerk: “Hey, you . . . can I talk to you for a moment?”

Kiryu: “Hm?”

Bookstore Clerk: “I’m sorry if it’s a misunderstanding. But . . . I want you to show me the inside of your bag.”

Kiryu: “My bag . . . ? Why?”

Bookstore Clerk: “One of the adult books on the shelf is gone. If it’s a misunderstanding, I apologize in advance. But for the time being, please allow me to check.”

Kiryu: “. . . You’re saying I shoplifted? That’s absurd. If you want to look in my bag, fine.”

{Kiryu unzips his bag.}

Kiryu: “As you can see . . . hn?!”

Kiryu: (‘Erotic Volcano Summer Special Issue’?! What is this doing in my bag . . . ?!)

Bookstore Clerk: “Th-This is . . . the lost H book!! There’s no doubt, the mystery is solved! You . . . shoplifter! Come here, I’m calling the police!”

Kiryu: “W-Wait! I didn’t shoplift! This . . . this is a mistake!”

Bookstore Clerk: “Oh you made a mistake and somehow this H book just fell into your bag without your permission?”

Kiryu: “Th-That’s . . .”

Bookstore Clerk: “Now come with me . . .”

Kiryu: “Please wait. Here, you can have my student ID. I can’t run away or hide. So please give me some time . . . I will definitely find the true criminal who framed me.”

{Kiryu runs off.}

Bookstore Clerk: “Ah! Wait!!”

----

[Nakamichi Alley]

Kiryu: “Haa . . . haa . . . I can’t find him at all . . . Where did that man go? I have to clear this misunderstanding with the clerk as soon as possible . . .”

Giant Man: “. . . Are you Kiryu Kazuma?”

Kiryu: “? . . . and if I am?”

Giant Man: “Apparently it’s true . . . but even if you’re a kid, I can’t forgive you. I’ll punish you!!”

Kiryu: “Tch. I’m in a hurry!”

{Kiryu defeats the Giant Man.}

Giant Man: “F-Fuck! To lose to a shoplifter of erotic books . . .”

Kiryu: “What?!”

Giant Man: “Because of you, Muramura Bookstore is closed . . . The store had the best assortment of erotic books!”

Kiryu: “W-Wait a minute . . . you think I’m a shoplifter?”

Giant Man: “You can’t hide your lechery by playing dumb! You’re absolutely unforgivable!”

Kiryu: “Wait! . . . Damn it, he’s gone. What does he mean? Why does that guy think I’m a shoplifter?”

City Man: “I thought he was a good kid, but that Kiryu-kun shoplifts H books.”

Kiryu: “?!”

City Woman: “Hey kid, shoplifting isn’t cute. If you want to know about H things, I can teach you.”

Kiryu: “?!”

Kiryu: “N-No way . . . does this mean the rumors of me shoplifting are spreading through the city? Only that bald guy could have done this, but why . . . ?!”

Kazama: “Kazuma . . .”

Kiryu: “O-Oyassan! What are you doing here?”

Kazama: “. . .”

Kiryu: “. . . ?”

Kazama: “. . . Ah, I’m sorry . . . I shouldn’t have thought that you’d stay a child forever. You’re going through puberty.”

Kiryu: “. . . Eh?”

Kazama: ‘I was like that too when I was your age. It’s not bad to be interested in such things.”

Kiryu: “Oyassan? What are you . . . D-Don’t tell me it reached even your ears!! O-Oyassan! It’s all a misunderstanding!!”

Kazama: “I know the kind of person you are. But are you saying the shoplifting is a misunderstanding?”

Kiryu: “Eh? Y-Yes! That’s right! I was screwed over . . . !”

Kiryu: (It’s Oyassan after all! He knows me better than anyone else . . .)

Kazama: “. . . Most of the time, such rumors are started even if you’re just browsing.”

Kiryu: “?!”

Kazama: “Next time, read it in a place where no one will find you. A man has to keep up appearances, after all.”

Kiryu: “O-Oyassan! I-It’s not like that!”

Kazama: “it’s alright . . . I know you want to hide your interests. But there’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Kiryu: “No . . . that’s not . . .”

Kazama: “Don’t worry. I asked the guy who told me this not to tell anyone else. . . . Oh, sorry. I was on my way to Patriarch Dojima. Let’s discuss this more later. Kazuma, I know you’re anxious, but you can always rely on me.”

{Kazama leaves Kiryu alone.}

Kiryu: “O-Oyassan . . . ! Th-This is the worst . . . Damn it, I have to find that bald guy and prove my innocence before the rumors spread even further . . . !”

-END-

CHAPTER 2

[Nakamichi Street]

Kiryu: “Haa . . . haa . . . That bald guy . . . I can’t find him at all.”

Mister: “Hey, isn’t that the boy who shoplifts H books? Haha, say . . . are you okay?”

Kiryu: “?!”

Young Woman: “You get withdrawal symptoms if you can’t steal H books, right? That’s scary.”

Kiryu: “?!”

Mister: “He has a bed made of H books at his house, and he can’t sleep without them . . . That’s abnormal.”

Kiryu: “?!”

Kiryu: “Oi! Wait a moment! I’m not a shoplifter! And-“

Mister: “Hiii! Did you get even more excited when we mentioned H books?! D-Don’t attack us!”

Young Woman: “Hiii! Don’t come any closer!”

{The two run away.}

Kiryu: “O-Oi! Wait . . . ! Damn it. Why are the shoplifting rumors so widespread . . . is it the work of that bald guy? And why are the rumors escalating? At this rate, I’m going to end up sounding terribly perverted . . . I need to prove my innocence quickly. But where on earth can I find that man?”

Nishikiyama: “Kiryu! Haa . . . haa . . . I finally found you.”

Kiryu: “Nishiki . . . ! What is it?”

Nishikiyama: “Haa . . . haa . . . you . . . I heard you shoplifted erotic books and got thrown into prison . . .”

Kiryu: “I’m in prison?!”

Nishikiyama: “Yeah, you’re an addict who shoplifts erotic books . . . many erotic bookstores have shut down from your erotic book shoplifting. Now that they’ve caught you, you can’t escape imprisonment.”

Kiryu: “That’s not true! It’s all a rumor.”

Nishikiyama: “. . . Rumor? So it’s not true?”

Kiryu: “It’s a lie. It’s all a lie.”

Nishikiyama: “. . . So it’s not true that you’ve shoplifted so many erotic books and became so addicted to shoplifting that you can’t sleep anymore?”

Kiryu: “Yeah . . . it’s a lie.”

Nishikiyama: “Haa . . . well, it was a good one. That little liar.”

Kiryu: “Little?”

Nishikiyama: “Yeah, there was a little old man telling passersby about it. So I thought you were in a pinch . . .”

Kiryu: “Why is the man spreading such a lie . . . Where was he?”

Nishikiyama: “Suppon Street. I just heard it a while ago, so he’s probably still there.”

Kiryu: “Damn him!”

{Kiryu runs off.}

Nishikiyama: “Oi! Kiryu, wait!”

----

[Suppon Street]

Petite Man: “So now, that Kiryu guy is . . . hm?”

Kiryu: “Hey, can you tell me the story of that Kiryu guy?”

Petite Man: “Oh, good. That Kiryu Kazuma is a shoplifter specializing in H books. It’s outrageous. Countless shops have been crushed by his shoplifting, the total amount of damage incurred is more than 10 million yen. Did you hear that Muramura Bookstore and Sukehira Land shut down recently? That was Kiryu’s work.”

Kiryu: “Huh . . . what an outrageous guy . . . So, where did you hear that big lie?”

Petite Man: “. . . Big lie? What do you know.”

Kiryu: “I know more than you. Because that Kiryu Kazuma is me.”

Petite Man: “?!”

{The man tries to run, but bumps into Nishiki.}

Nishikiyama: “Oops, can’t let you escape.”

Petite Man: ��L-Let me go!”

Kiryu: “We’ll let you go. If you tell us why you’re spreading such a lie.”

Petite Man: “Gck . . . I’ll kill you!”

{Kiryu and Nishiki beat the guy up.}

Petite Man: “H-Hiii! S-Sorry! I’ll tell you anything! Please forgive me!”

Kiryu: “Then tell me . . . who are you?”

Petite Man: “I’m . . . Ken . . . I’m a thief . . . there’s two of us working together.”

Kiryu: “Thieves? Why’s a guy like you spreading lies about me?”

Ken: “M-My aniki asked me to . . .”

Kiryu: “Aniki?”

Ken: “He’s the boss of our little group. My aniki is a master a shoplifting, known as the Miraculous Tatsu. . . . He’s the one who slipped that H book in your bag.”

Kiryu: “What?! Is that the guy with the shaved head?!”

Ken: “He wears a jumper, has a beard . . . has a lot of exposed skin on his head, yeah.”

Kiryu: “So it is him . . . Then why is he framing me and telling lies?”

Ken: “He said he had a grudge against Kiryu-san because he lost a fight to him once . . . That’s why he framed you as a shoplifter of H books and pinned his crime of making bookstores shut down on you.”

Nishikiyama: “What a guy.”

Kiryu: “What kind of person is that aniki of yours? Where is he now?”

Ken: “When he contacted me earlier, he said he was shoplifting back at that bookstore where you got accused.”

Kiryu: “. . . Alright. Then I’ll go to the bookstore. Follow me. I want you as my witness.”

Ken: “Y-Yes sir . . .”

-END-

CHAPTER 3

Bookstore Clerk: “. . .”

Bald Guy: (Oh? A new erotic book is out. Should I take 10 when the clerk takes his eyes off me? Kuku, how unfortunate for him that Miraculous Tatsu is here. I’ll keep shoplifting until the store shuts down.)

Kiryu: “I found him. The Miraculous Tatsu.”

Ken: “Aniki . . . I’m sorry . . .”

Miraculous Tatsu: “. . . Hm? . . .Kiryu . . . and . . . Ken?!”

Bookstore Clerk: “Hm? Ah, you shoplifter!! I won’t let you run this time!”

Kiryu: “Wait, Mr. Clerk. I’m not the shoplifter. That bald guy is the one who put the book in my bag and framed me.”

Bookstore Clerk: “Eh?!”

Miraculous Tatsu: “. . . I don’t know what he’s talking about. Can you stop imposing your sins on others?”

Kiryu: “There’s no use trying to squeeze your way out of this. Your subordinate has ratted you out already. Right?”

Ken: “Y-Yes . . . my aniki framed Kiryu for the shoplifting . . .”

Miraculous Tatsu: “. . . tch.”

Bookstore Clerk: “Wh-what! So it was you!”

Miraculous Tatsu: “. . . I don’t know that guy. Kiryu just brought him up as a false witness.”

Bookstore Clerk: “What was that . . . is that right?! Boy!”

Kiryu: “Don’t be stupid. That guy’s the criminal!”

Bookstore Clerk: “Wh-Which one is telling the truth . . .”

Miraculous Tatsu: “Mr. Clerk. Are you going to listen to a shoplifter? Isn’t this guy the villain who’s been getting bookstores shut down?”

Kiryu: “?!”

Miraculous Tatsu: “If you don’t make up your mind quickly, your store will be destroyed.”

Bookstore Clerk: “I-I won’t forgive you! I’ll protect this bookstore! This time I’m not letting you go, I’m calling the police!”

Kiryu: “Fuck . . .”

Miraculous Tatsu: “Hehe . . . give it up, Kiryu. You’ll forever be known as the pervert who steals erotic books.”

Kiryu: “I’m . . . not a shoplifter . . . or a pervert . . . !”

Miraculous Tatsu: “Heh, shoplifting ‘Erotic Volcano Summer Special Issue’, you don’t have an excuse.”

Kiryu: “. . . wait. You . . . why do you know the name of the book?”

Miraculous Tatsu: “. . . Ah?!”

Bookstore Clerk: “?!”

Kiryu: “The ones who know the title should only be me and the clerk here.”

Bookstore Clerk: “Surely you have an explanation, customer. Why do you know the title?”

Miraculous Tatsu: “Th-That is . . .”

Kiryu: “If you can’t say it, I’ll answer. There’s only one reason . . . because you’re the one who put it in my bag.”

Miraculous Tatsu: “Fuck . . .”

Bookstore Clerk: “Customer. Do you have anything else to say in your defense?”

Miraculous Tatsu: “Tch!”

Kiryu: “You can’t escape.”

Miraculous Tatsu: “That’s it! I’ll kill you!”

Kiryu: “If you can do it, then go ahead. On behalf of all the bookstores you put out of business . . . I’ll crush you again!!”

{Kiryu defeats the guy.}

Miraculous Tatsu: “Hiii! Please forgive me! I’ll confess to everything! I-I’ll admit I did it!!!! So please stop!!!!”

Kiryu: “. . . so that’s it then. Mr. Clerk, please handle this guy and the other one.”

Ken: “Hiii . . . “

Bookstore Clerk: “Y-Yeah. I’ll take care for them and hand them over to the police. And . . . thank you. Because of you, I’ve finally caught the real shoplifter. I’m sorry I suspected you of shoplifting H books.”

Kiryu: “. . . You just did your job. You don’t need to apologize.”

Bookstore Clerk: “But . . . there’s rumors about you in the city, right? That you stole H books . . .”

Kiryu: “. . .”

Bookstore Clerk: “I’m sorry about that. I’ll take full responsibility for the rumors. If I spread word that you were framed, the rumors should disappear in a few days.”

Kiryu: “Really?”

Bookstore Clerk: “Yeah. I know a rumor-loving Aunt who lives in a radio tower in Kamurocho. I’m sure the rumors will be managed.”

----

Kiryu: “. . . Phew. The rumors are likely to settle down now with this.”

Nishikiyama: “Kiryu! How was it?”

Kiryu: “Nishiki . . . things should be fine. I caught the criminal and cleared up my name.”

Nishikiyama: “Hehe, I’m glad. Well, even if you were accused of shoplifting erotic books, you have to admit it was funny.”

Kiryu: “. . . I’m not laughing.”

Nishikiyama: “Well, anyway, at least the case is settled.”

Giant Man: “Oh! You! I finally found you!”

Kiryu: “! You . . . we met earlier . . . I’m not a shoplifter.”

Giant Man: “Hehe, yeah it was a mistake. I heard it was all a lie. Sorry you got framed.”

Kiryu: “Really . . . ? Then what’s this about?”

Giant Man: “Did you get it? Did you buy ‘Erotic Volcano Summer Special Issue’? Even if you’re young, I want to discuss it with you!”

Kiryu: “. . .”

Nishikiyama: “This . . . the rumors aren’t going to disappear any time soon, huh . . .”

-END-

Masterlist

#Kiryu definitely got the Talk from Kazama that night lol #I'm loving the implication that Kiryu has beaten up so many people in junior high that he can't recognize someoneone of them #rgg online #rggo lore #rggo #rgg #Ryu ga Gotoku #yakuza #kazuma kiryu #kiryu kazuma #akira nishikiyama #nishikiyama akira #shintaro kazama

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moonchildsaurora · 4 years

Text

Running in Circles

✤ guard captain!Mingi x thief!reader ✤ genre: Guard AU // smidge of fluff, (semi)enemies-to-friends. (feat. Yunho) ✤ t/w: sfw, none - except very brief mentions of some fighting, rated PG ✤ count: 3k ✤ [ part 3 ] of Lacuna miniseries

a/n - huge apologies for keeping Captain Song in for a so long but alas, he’s finally freeeeee. I really need to pick up the pace with continuing on with this mini series 😅 this idea sorta played out better in my head than out in words - I’m not 100% happy with this, it’s defs not my best but I shall practise writing more Mingi fics in the future! This is also probably the tamest of the lot in terms of cry-level. Just preparing you guys with an easy read before the shitstorm that awaits in the next member on the list one shot hahahahahahaha. @hereisleo & @barsformars hope you both enjoy this for ya man 😉 I couldn’t bring myself to hurt this giant teddybear too much in writing. Also everyone, let’s welcome back a familiar face within this one shot :P

In all of his years of being a royal palace guard of Aethevintis, nothing would cause his body to seize up with tension instantly and hasten the greys that threaten to come through his still youthful auburn tresses than when he was requested at the interrogation chamber.

Heavy steps echoed off the dark granite stone floors, the sharp clinking from an array of medals that hung proudly to signify his prestige were in sync with his tense pace. Song Mingi had no problem exercising command and authority when it was needed, in fact, he prided himself in doing so.

He was good at his job, and he knew that.

Otherwise the title of Captain wouldn’t had been bestowed upon him that four winters ago. The real struggle was when his confidence in being assertive was mistaken for the ability to intimidate, broad body physique to further fuel that common misconception. And so Mingi often found himself sat in that bleak chamber with some poor unfortunate soul, who had been frightened into admitting nothing more than petty crimes.

He’d argue such tactics were unnecessary. Running his hand frustratingly through his hair for the umpteenth time, Mingi mentally braced himself for whatever...or rather whoever awaited for his arrival.

Rounding the corner, his brows arched up with surprise upon seeing the King standing in front of the chamber doors. The troubled look that replaced the King’s usual ebullient features prompted Mingi to straighten his posture immediately; this was sure to be a serious matter. “Good afternoon Sire…”

Yunho turned towards the rich baritone voice of the Guard Captain and rigid shoulders relaxed ever so slightly at the sight of one of his most trusted.

“Captain Song,” Yunho nodded in acknowledgement, “Although I’m not sure if it’s entirely good at all.”

Mingi’s forehead creased but remained silent to allow the King to further elaborate about his plight.

“The Queen’s aquamarine diamond parure has been stolen, and I suspect a selection of other jewels too. Those I care not for as much as the diamond parure…it’s got high sentimental value as it was passed down within the family from my great-great-grandmother.”

“That certainly isn’t good at all. Has the perpetrator been caught yet, Sire?”

“As luck would have it, yes actually. And I’ve been told that you would be the perfect person to know how to handle this….situation,” at saying this Yunho fully turned to face Mingi. The falchion in his belt’s scabbard felt heavy and a million and one thoughts were running through his mind at once.

“Mingi…”

Mingi could see the sincerity in Yunho’s eyes and the hesitation in spilling out the words that needed to be said.

“I hope you know that in any other circumstances, I would not be requesting you to deal with such matters that you have immense dislike for. I apologise for putting you in such a position. This…certain individual has crossed paths with you before and I’m hoping with that familiarity you may be able to coax them to reveal where the diamond parrure is. How you do so, I’ll leave that up to your discretion.”

Oh.

Well that wasn’t what Mingi was expecting to hear. A certain individual he’s familiar with?

He straightened his back and gave a determined nod of his head, “I shall do my best Sire. That room may be the bane of my existence but this matter is clearly of importance to you, let us hope the thief can be convinced to comply.”

“You have my utmost gratitude Mingi,” Yunho said, reaching his hand up to give Mingi’s shoulder a comforting squeeze before making his way out of the grim dungeon hallway.

Mingi waited till the King was out of sight before turning to face the chamber. Taking a deep breath, he steeled his heart and pushed open the doors with slight force.

“Well, well if it isn’t my favourite Captain of the guards. Come to keep me company for the evening?”

If he wasn’t already sweating before, he sure was now. That oh-so coquettish voice he’s grown to recognise almost immediately, fell on his ears.

You sent a cheshire grin to the tall figure, legs propped up on the worn-out wooden table and hands idly fiddling with the heavy brass shackles around your wrists. This certainly wasn’t the first time your paths had crossed but it was the first for you both to meet in a more dire setting.

Mingi feared for the implications of your capture.

Not just a mere thief of the streets but being the leader of Dusk Talons, the Royal Crown surely won’t pass up a chance to make an example of a core individual from the renowned thief guild.

“You ought to close your mouth, otherwise the flies will get in.”

One of the guards closer to you brought his fist down on the table, a mere tactic meant to frighten you. However, all it got out of you was the bored glance you sent to the guard who started berating you for talking back to Captain Song.

Mingi let out a sigh, “That’s enough. I can take it from here, you all are dismissed.” The command was given to the other guards in the room as he settled into the chair across from you. They left without a fuss and silence encompassed the room, though not for long.

“Would you please be a dear and help with this?” you asked, chains jangling as you held out your cuffed wrists towards Mingi.

“It would seem that’s not needed at all,” a ghost of a smile gracing his lips, “your handy work got the job done for you.”

“You’re no fun.”

Not admitting out loud, you were slightly impressed that the guard captain didn’t let your lock-picking slip by him. The shackles dropped on to the table and you made a show of stretching your arms out, body arching lithely off the chair. Your loose tunic rode up just shy of showing skin, causing Mingi to avert his eyes out of respect.

That widened your grin.

Mingi let out an awkward cough, any pre-planned script he had for questioning was abandoned. You weren’t entirely a stranger to him nor were you an acquaintance – if the laws even allowed for that. But Mingi didn’t feel right about making you go through the same interrogation protocol as previous criminals had to. You weren’t like them.

“I can’t tell if you thrive off the riskiest raids or that you don’t fear anything nor anyone. Going after Her Majesty’s diamond parure? Of all things!”

An airy chuckle left you, “If I didn’t know better…you sound awfully worried for me, Captain.”

“Shouldn’t you be at least more careful? What would become of your family if something were to really happen to you?”

The grin on your face disappeared immediately.

Mingi continued when he didn’t hear a response, “I’ve seen you…giving food and gold back to those in the Lower Wrean. I know some of the funds for the city’s orphanages are provided by your guild. And that one time…the only reason why you led the attack on our eastern outpost was to rescue a few of your own and relocate some of the nomad camps away from potential crossfire. You don’t abandon family, right?”

These were the things that convinced Mingi, you weren’t really all bad. Questionable choices? Sure. Morals? A little grey. Although underneath the layers, your intentions have always stemmed from a compassionate heart.

“What’s to the rich if they lose a few here and there? They have far more than enough, so to us, they’re top of the list of contributors.”

Mingi remembered you telling him that when he had first caught you escaping from one of the noble’s house. Your guild only ever stole from the rich and it was a bonus if the corrupted was targeted too. Mingi, who then was still under the command of the previous captain, hesitated to pursue. For his moral compass went spiralling. Being bound to carry out his royal duty or close a blind eye because he empathised with what you stood for.

Empathy.

Nothing more than a weak link, according to his captain. There was little room for that, just as grey had no place among Aethevintis’ black-or-white justice system.

Hence, a thief was still a thief at the end of the day. Even for a good cause, by definition you were on the opposing side.

You continued to observe Mingi in silence, with a neutral expression, as you let his words sink in. Captain Song was much different than his predecessors. An unspoken level of mutual respect had developed between you both somewhere along the way of your encounters. The way he led with his heart rather than blind authority was admirable.

“We do what we must to get by. My family…as you so kindly put it…are capable of adapting to whatever circumstances are thrown their way. Risk is an inevitable norm for us.”

At least, you could appreciate Mingi looking at you without that faux sympathy.

“And I’ve lived doing what I do best…that is to survive. Being careful only gets you so far but being smart, well, you could go just about anywhere with that.”

With a rather loud yawn you broke the tension in the dim room. The grin reappeared back on your face and you slinked backwards on the chair. Mingi was contemplating on whether switching back to the original subject of this…talk…would be a good idea or not. He needed a starting basis, a hint of sorts from you in order to give direction where he’d be searching for the missing parure.

Betting on the fact that you don’t wholly despise him, Mingi tried his luck. “Now I do have a job to complete, and I’m sure we both would rather spend our time elsewhere other than down here…”

“Aww, I thought we were having a good time getting to know each other better. Don’t get to do that as much on the streets now, do we?”

“What have you done with Her Majesty’s parure?” asked Mingi, keeping his tone levelled.

“You sure are set on that huh? What’s in it for you if you successfully retrieve the jewels?”

Tilting your head, eyes sparking a challenge. Only to be met with determination glinting off Mingi’s own pair of dark chocolate brown orbs.

“Nothing more than the satisfaction of returning a precious family heirloom back to my King. It’s of great importance and sentiment to him.”

You wished you could find fault in his resolution. Yet again, Mingi was nothing but honest in answering you.

Surely, you could play a little nicer this time, right?

“Hmm, I’ll think about it. I’m feeling rather parched as well…any chance I could get some fresh water?”

Sensing you weren’t going to give in anytime soon, Mingi drew in a deep breath and exhaled. Standing up he offered, “And I’m guessing you haven’t had anything to eat?”

“You’re offering?”

“This is an interrogation chamber, not a torture one.”

Mingi left to gather the necessities. Head filled with too many conflicting thoughts, that he missed the growing grin on your lips and the space where the dungeon keys previously sat on his belt.

“THE PRISONER HAS ESCAPED!”

“FIRE IN THE COURTYARD!”

It was havoc.

The thunderous sound of fireworks broke through the tranquil evening. Catching everyone by surprise and confusion arose as to why bursts of colourful sparks were going off within the palace grounds. When some of the flag banners and trees caught fire from the stray sparks, it caused a flurry of panic.

And to make matters worse – the guards had lost you.

Mingi finished over-seeing the last batch of palace staff into the safe area. “All palace guards are to stay by the doors to the throne room and west wing! No one is to leave or enter until my unit and I have done a final sweep of the grounds, “ he ordered.

Part of the team was put in charge of getting the fires under control. He deduced the fireworks were set off as an intended distraction and, a successful one at that too. Mingi’s priority was now to prevent you from escaping.

He heard the commotion and shouting before, “CAPTAIN! THE SOUTHWEST WALLS!”

You held your own and by the time Mingi had reached your location, the guards who were stationed there were knocked out cold on the ground. A minor cut bled slightly from your left cheek and you looked a little more roughed up than when Mingi had last seen you.

“Here I was thinking this would be a clean goodbye…” you said, securing the rope around your waist that Mingi noticed was tied to the stone merlons. He also saw a couple of dark-coloured pouches with you that weren’t present on your attire during the interrogation.

Three guesses as to what filled those pouches.

You followed his eyes to where they were fixated on, “Ah yes, amongst thieves it’s the number one rule to not hide our spoils on ourselves…lest we get caught.”

A series of sharp whistles was heard. The signal that your guild had completed their tasks and was awaiting to reunite with their leader down below at the meeting point. You blew three consecutive similar whistles back in response.

“Wait!”

You paused with one foot up on the stone edge. Turning back to look, you saw Mingi’s hand hover slightly over his falchion.

“Are you going to try and stop me?”

‘No. But I will ask once more, where is the diamond parure? I know the cold season approaches and you’ll need all the resources you can get. Those gold and other jewels you’ve got there should be sufficient enough. So please….”

Having already made your decision the moment you slammed the doors to the chamber out, simultaneously breaking the noses of the unsuspecting guards, you knew what you had to do. But that didn’t prevent you from adding a little dramatic flair.

After all, you want to stay memorable in Captain Song’s books.

“You just don’t know when to give up, do you?”

Your voice dripping with light sweetness, eyes locked on his as you made your way right up to him. Your hand darted out to grab his falchion and on reflex, Mingi intercepted – large calloused warm hand latching around your wrist.

“But maybe that’s what makes so different from the others…” You flipped his hand so it faced palm up, and placed a familiar cobalt blue pouch on it. “You’re a good man, Captain Song. Thinking with your heart doesn’t make you weak…this world needs more of that, more of people like you.”

You watched his shoulders fall with relief and the look he had in his eyes change into something you couldn’t quite discern. Mingi nestled the pouch carefully towards his body, the delicate clinking confirmed its fragile contents within. And he didn’t feel the need to look inside for confirmation; he trusted you.

“If we were to meet in another lifetime, I hope we’d be on better terms then. Preferably one leaning closer to friends.”

A genuine smile crept up from the corners of your lips upon hearing Mingi’s words.

“That sounds rather nice, actually.”

You could definitely use a friend like Mingi in your second lifetime, should fate ever be so kind to give you another shot.

“CAPTAIN!”

The clamouring of guards and blades being drawn drew closer and you could hear the running of feet up the stairs.

“Well, that’s my cue to leave. And I am so sorry for doing this but…”

And you physically winced when you sent a knee to his gut, causing Mingi to collapse and gasp for air.

“…Captain Song wouldn’t go down without a fight and this makes it look less like you just let a scummy thief off the hook.”

Mingi waved his other gloved hand, “I…understand – you ought to hurry…” he managed to cough out the words.

“Don’t be a stranger.”

With that, Mingi watched you leap over the wall’s edge just as back-up from his unit arrived. Not only did you leave him with the Queen’s jewels and potentially a bruise or two, you also left him with a new sense of comfort.

Two worlds apart. Two unlikely individuals who were both willing to cross the bridge that’s been built to fill the gap, to meet in the middle.

Yeah, this was a change he could get used to.

“Thank you Captain Song!” cheered the orphans, watching with admiration at how effortlessly Mingi climbed the tree to recover their kite that got stuck in the tall branches.

He soon found his legs to be attacked with hugs from several pairs of petite arms.

Mingi returned the affections with gentle head pats and a, “Be careful not to run too fast and watch where you’re going!”

The townspeople greeted him as he patrolled his rounds. Even scoring a ruby red freshly-picked apple from one of the vendors. Today would be a breeze. Golden rays of the sun shone down warmly and the morning air was still crisp. Mingi was already planning to finish his shift early and go see if he could convince Yunho to sneak away from royal duties for a round of archery out by the fields.

“STOP! THIEF!”

Just like that, his trail of thoughts were cut short. Mingi snapped his attention towards the direction where the yelling came from. Jogging over to where the crowd had gathered, he was nearly bowled over by a fleeting figure.

Upon making eye contact for that split second, he could recognise your mirthful eyes from anywhere.

Your eyes crinkled with delight and being bold as to send a wink his way. But your feet never stopped sprinting and within seconds, Mingi had lost you among the sea of townspeople who still went about their business on the street.

“THEY WENT THAT WAY!”

Mingi looked back to see some of his unit tailing after a few hooded figures who disappeared into the maze of alleyways. Your guild sure knew the layout of the town inside out.

A sigh escaped him. So much for finishing up early for the day.

But if it was a chase you wanted, then it would be a chase you’ll get. Being the respectful gentleman that he was, he’d let you have a head start of course.

Maybe one day, when he’s old and cranky, worn out to his bones – he’d stop running in circles after you.

Luckily for you both, today wasn’t that day.

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nothing-but-dreamy · 3 years

Text

ON THE EDGE ~ Pt. 3

Characters: Gavin Reed x fem!Reader; Connor; Hank Anderson;

Warnings: cursing

Words: 2.122

Gavin nodded while he checked the file in front of him, “Well, yeah… I never made the connection before-”

“That’s why I am here… for the things you won’t see.”, yn said teasingly. Gavin glared at her but she just stuck out her tongue which caused Gavin to smirk. Yn took another file and handed it to Gavin, “Here is another statement. Again this Joseph.”

Gavin frowned as he skimmed through the file, “Is that one of mine? I can’t remember-”

“No, it’s not yours. Actually, this is from Hank-”

Gavin’s head shot up from the file, “Hank? Have you talked with him about this?”, annoyance was hearable in his voice.

Yn looked at him with a challenging expression, waiting for him to say the wrong thing but he didn’t, so she answered, “Yes, I did. Because my partner was MIA, you remember?”, she asked rhetorically.

Gavin understood and decided to stay silent, swallowing down his pride, “Alright, yeah... so, you wanna trace this case?”

“I would like to do it, yeah. But first, we need more information or at least, we should collect everything we can find.”, yn said and wasn’t surprised to see Gavin making a face by mentioning ‘boring’ paperwork, “Listen, here’s the deal, you go home, take a shower and relax a bit. You kinda look horrible-”

“Thank you very much.”, Gavin muttered.

Yn smiled softly, “You know what I mean. Meanwhile, I will gather the information.”

“You sure?”, Gavin asked. It didn’t feel right to let her alone doing all the work but a shower was also something Gavin was yearning for after this kinda horrible day.

“Of course. You know, it feels good to be here and to have these files in my hands. I just want to enjoy this feeling a bit longer.”, she said softly, “And you hate doing paperwork anyway.”

Gavin knew how much she loved her job. She was as passionate about it as he was. They both wanted the same things: to hunt criminals and to bring justice to those who got hurt by all the bad people in this world. Now that she was back, he couldn’t remember how he had managed to stay sane without her. He stood up and donned his leather jacket, “Alright, but if you need help or anything, call me.”, he said. As he saw her doubtfully glance he added: “I promise, I will answer.”, he said softly and yn grinned. Reluctantly, Gavin left his desk but looked back at her one last time. In the end, he wished he hadn’t done it. The scene he saw was annoying but before his temper could blow his fuses once again, he left the DPD.

Just as Gavin was about to leave, Connor walked to yn. As yn noticed the android, she looked up from the files and shot him a warm smile, “Hey, Connor.”

“Hey. Could you talk with Reed about these files?”

“Yes, I could. I think we will have a new case here.”, yn answered with a smile.

Connor noticed the way her eyes sparkled when she was talking about the case and the work. He already noticed that she had a cheerful personality mostly in comparison to Reed and Hank. But the energy he saw now was something different. Connor had studied her career a bit. She was young, ambitious and one of Detroit’s best Detectives and now, he saw why she was this good: there was a fire burning in her. She wouldn’t give up until she would solve this case, “I’m glad the two of you could sort things out.”

“Yeah, Gavin is a bit hot-headed… some things will never change. You just have to know how to deal with him.”, yn said. On the other side of the room, she saw Hank getting done with work to leave the office, “You’re done for today?”

“Yes. The Detroit Gears have a game today and Hank wants to watch it in Jimmy’s bar. I accompany him to make sure he won’t get … too drunk.”

“Sounds like a good evening.”, yn admitted.

“Would you like to join us?”, Connor asked carefully and kinda shy. He wasn’t sure where this idea came from but the idea to spend more time with her was something he would like.

Yn’s brows shot up in surprise. This invitation was nothing she had expected, “Oh, uhm… you know, Connor, it’s very nice of you to ask but I… I want to work this through. But next time.”, she answered. Connor understood it and then, Hank was ready to leave the DPD. Yn smiled to herself. The way Connor had asked her was so pure and innocent that she was surprised that he was able to keep up with Hank and all the other cops. He was nice, friendly … even undeniable handsome with these soft brown eyes. Her glance fell on the small plant which caused her smile to get even a bit bigger.

It was past nine as yn realized that she was alone in the DPD. Well, there was herself, the police androids in standby mode and Captain Fowler was also still in his office. She sat straight in her chair which caused her spine to crack nasty. She rolled her head left and right and rubbed the back of her neck. As she looked hopefully into her cup, it was already empty.

“You know when the coffee is gone it’s the sign for you to go home.”, Captain Fowler said, who stopped next to yn’s desk, “What are you working on anyway? Something interesting? Or are you trying to make sense of Reed’s paperwork?”

Yn chuckled. Everyone knew that Gavin was a very good Detective with a high crime clearance rate but his manners casted a cloud over his victories most of the time, “No, his files are all fine. But I found something in them. First, there were just two statements with the same name of a Red Ice dealer. Hank also found something that suited this case in his own files. Now, I have a bunch of files and statements all with the same names and places.”

Fowler was hooked immediately. ‘Red Ice’ was still the main problem in Detroit. He grabbed a chair and sat next to yn’s desk, “Tell me more about it.”

Ten minutes later, she had summarized all the information she had found as best as she could. Fowler nodded slowly, seemingly deep in his thoughts. Yn waited for him to speak. She knew that the Captain hated it to get interrupted while he was considering his next steps.

“You really have found something. Maybe even something big. This Joker-guy must have a boss. What you said about him doesn’t sound as if he would be connected enough to get the drugs on his own.”

“I thought the same.”, yn admitted.

Fowler stood up, “Reed and you can follow this trace but, if you need anything, come to me. It’s your first case, take it easy. Even if I know you’re capable.”

“Thanks, Sir. Uhm… I might already have an idea.”, yn said and grinned.

After another training session on his boxing bag, Gavin took a hot shower at three o’clock in the morning. The water was slowly running down his body and relaxed all the tense muscles. He tried his best, but Gavin wasn’t able to keep a clear mind. His thoughts were always drifting to all the events of the past day.

The small plant... Connor… the hooker … how he had treated yn…

Gavin sank his head, his hair was falling into his face and the water was running down between his shoulder blades while he supported himself with his hands from the wall. Yn already had noticed that something was bothering him and he knew, if he wouldn’t watch out, that she would ask until there was no other way than telling her the truth why he was on the edge all the time.

Ten minutes later, he left the shower, flung a towel around his hips and stepped to the sink to look into the mirror. Yn had been right, he looked horrible. His lip was still slightly swollen, his cheek a bit red and dark shadows under his eyes betrayed that he was barely sleeping. He checked his appearance one last time, before he groaned, annoyed about himself, and left his reflection alone. There was no solution for any of these problems - and Gavin wouldn’t even start to try to find one.

A few hours later and filled up with much coffee, Gavin entered the DPD. He was determined to keep his temper calm. He really wanted to stay cool but as he walked to his desk, his blood pressure was already increasing again.

Yn was there, like an early bird, sitting at her desk. Next to her were Hank and Connor. Yn laughed loudly about something Hank had said and as Gavin came closer he heard something about ‘pigeons’. Gavin approached the small group, all the former good intentions long gone and his bad mood back in charge, “Don't you have your own desks?", he asked and looked annoyed at the two men.

Yn checked quickly on Gavin. He looked a bit better than the day before but she saw that he hadn’t slept again. So, yn wasn’t surprised to see him this moody. But the first thing she had learnt in handling Gavin Reed was to treat him with kindness if he decided to be a prick, "We wish you a good morning as well, Detective.", she said teasingly friendly while she observed his reaction.

"Yeah, yeah,yeah...", he answered bugged, "What is going on here?", Gavin asked and pointed at the file in Connor’s hand. It was one of Gavin's.

Yn rolled with her eyes, "Oh, hell! Calm the fuck down! Eat a Snickers!"

"W-what? Why?", Gavin asked dumbfounded and looked puzzled at her.

Yn grinned at him, "Because your boiling hot latin blood comes through when you're hungry!"

"Latin blood?", Connor asked with one raised brow.

Yn looked at him with a lopsided smirk, "His mother comes from Puerto Rico."

"Hey!", Gavin called out.

Yn looked back at him still grinning, "What? That's not a secret. Oh, and by the way, Hank and Connor are joining us on the Red Ice case-"

"No fucking way! It's our case!", Gavin called out. He got annoyed more and more, although he had planned this day differently, but somehow he got the feeling that yn was working against him.

"Orders from Fowler.", yn explained with crossed arms.

“Why?"

"I gathered all the information and… this case could be big, you know, it might even come with a lead to a drug boss. So, since I got Hank’s case file already involved and because he is the most experienced of us relating to Red Ice cases, it’s just the best solution to be successful. And Connor... he's a very intelligent and advanced boy. It could be useful to have an android on our side.", yn said and winked at Connor with a grin. The way she spoke about him gave Connor a good feeling.

Gavin pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath, "Bloody hell! I should have stayed in bed.", he muttered.

Yn looked skeptical at her partner, "The way you look, I'm not sure what you use your bed for but it's not for sleeping."

Slowly, he looked at her and pressed his jaw together to swallow down the comment he had on his lips, "You... I need coffee!", he grunted and went into the kitchen.

Yn followed Gavin with her eyes, a smirk on her lips, "Maybe you should consider bathing in it rather than just drinking it."

Gavin showed her his middle finger and heard her chuckling.

Yn turned over to Hank with a grin, "It's really good to be back."

Hank smirked, enjoying the fact that Gavin got some backtalk, "Reed will kill you when he finds out that it was your idea to get us on board."

"I know.", she answered with a huge grin, “But I wasn’t lying. Fowler approved the idea. Gavin just doesn’t have to know that.”

Connor looked at her. How she grinned and how much fun she had treating Gavin like this was contagious. Connor grinned as well, in his eyes, Gavin deserved this, "You like to fuck him up, don't you?"

Yn looked at the android and nodded slowly, "Hell yes. It's funny. And very easy."

Gavin came back, sat at his desk, took a sip of his coffee but stayed silent.

"Better?", yn grinned.

"No.", Gavin muttered low.

"Perfect. The best base to start the briefing."

#detroit become human #gavin reed x reader #gavin x reader #gavin reed #dbh gavin reed #dbh #dbh fic #fanfiction #fandom

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vanillann · 4 years

Text

aphrodite and her son cupid (spencer reid x f.reader)

finally got to part two, also if you asked for a part two i tagged you!!

word count: 1.6k

aphrodite and her son cupid mastlist

“Spence, just call.”

Spencer, JJ, and Morgan sat around Spencer's desk in the bullpen with Spencer's phone in the middle of the desk. The lockscreen of the Doctor Who cast that Penelope had picked out forever ago was one but the screen was clear of notifications.

“I can’t.”

“You can Pretty Ricky,” Morgan clapped down on Spencer's shoulder, giving a pearly white smile while trying to get him to pick up the phone.

“I can’t, it’s been three week since she gave it to me and statically-”

“No static, just call,” JJ pushed the phone slightly, giving a sweet smile that would have worked if Spencer nerves weren’t so highl.

“I-I can’t JJ,” he voice switched, saddened from the fact of everything slowly getting to him.

JJ looked to Morgan, her plan was falling apart and all she had left was Henry's plan, which she knew wouldn’t work but it’s all she had left.

“Okay Spence the topic is dropped, how about you come to dinner tonight with Will, Henry, and I?”

Spencer would never pass up dinner with Henry, never in a million years.

“Sure, where are we eating,” Spencer dared looked at his phone one last time before he looked back at JJ.

“It’s a nice Thai food restaurant about 20 from my place.”

The lighting was beautiful, dimmed down and little lights hung everywhere. Spencer definitely had never been in a Thai food restaurant this nice before, but he didn’t eat out much anyways.

“Jareau,” JJ smiled at the host, looking to Spencer to make sure he wasn’t looking, before leaning over to whisper to the woman's ear.

Henry was about to jump out his shoes out of excitement, this was his plan after all. He was hoping his Uncle Spencer would make it easy for him, I mean come on who doesn’t call the pretty lady, but he was prepared for this.

“Right this way,” the sweet lady, who couldn’t stop smiling at JJ, carried them to the back room with the extra seats. Once they pulled back the beautiful golden curtain, Spencer felt he was going to be sick.

There sat Ms. (L/N), her hair in the perfect arrangement, a beautiful black sweater sat on her shoulder with a black and pink floral skirt at her waist.

Spencer Reid didn’t get speechless often, Will knew that.

Suddenly a small stack of menus fell to the floor, Spencer wasn’t paying good attention as we see. This bought all eyes, yes I mean all, to Spencer as he nervously tried to pick up the menus that covered the floor now.

Two delicate hands reached for a stray menu, smiling as she handed it back to the good doctor. Henry was jumping in his seat, a bright smile on his face as Spence nervously looked up at the sweet teacher.

“Ms. (L/N),” Spencer was shocked his voice was clear.

“Doctor Reid,” she smiled down at the ground, itching behind her ear as if she was embarrassed.

Will thought he was better at profilings her than Spencer was at this point.

“W-what uhm, what are you doing here?”

“I come here everyone on the first Saturday of the month,” he spoke gently, the two slowly standing up full once the menus were back in their rightful places.

“Oh,” his words trailed off, looking over at JJ who sat with her family, at a completely full table. The only other empty table in the backroom was the extra seat across from Ms. (L/N).

He was going to cry, like sob cry from embarrassment at this rate.

“I-uhm, I think JJ must have forgotten I was joining them tonight, I suppose I should head out,” time to make a run for it.

“You can eat with me.”

Why did Spencer have to like incredibly nice people?

It was almost annoying how he felt he could never say no to her. It got so bad Spencer hasn’t come within 100 miles of the school since parent day.

“Are you sure?”

When (Y/N) nodded her head, JJ and Will fist bumped under the table. Henry boucher in his seat as Spencer made his way across from Ms. (L/N).

His plan was going just how he wanted it.

“How have you’ve been Doc?”

Spencer smiled at the nickname, one he missed more than on thought possible. It was odd, attaching the nickname to her but it felt weird when Garcia called him that last week.

“I’ve been busy, nothing new I suppose, You?”

He didn’t lie, he would never lie to her if he could help it, he just overplayed how busy he was.

“Good, the kids keep young,” she looked down to her menu, looking up at Spencer before frowning.

“You didn’t grab a menu for yourself?”

Spencer looked at his placement, everything but a menu was in his sight. How does one forget the very thing he knocked down? Maybe it was other things to be focused on, but Spencer wasn’t spilling that yet.

“Here,” Ms. (L/N) picked up her chair, moving it to the other side of the round table beside Spence and held the menu out for both to read.

She could have called for a waiter, sure, but it was just nicer to offer. Yeah that was the only reason. She definitely wasn’t making a move on the sweet attractive Doctor that has ignored her very sad attempt at flirting.

Spencer smiled, looking over the menu held in her multi-color painted nails, ones the kid must have paint with how sloppy they look.

“What do you normally get?”

“The Mango Salad, it’s a personal favorite,” she looked to her right,smiling at Spencer as he himself quickly looked over the menu. She liked the way when he read his jaw locked slightly, he was so focused he didn’t even think to move it.

“Are you both ready to order?”

The two looked up, eyes wide as the waitress stood with a sweet smile as a notepad waiting for the order.

“I believe so.”

(Y/N) let her napkin fall to her plate, little giggles falling from her lips and she laughed at Spencer's sour face.

“Definitely don’t mix them too,” Spencer took a sip of his water, ignoring the way her laugh made him want to do it again just for her.

“I told you so.”

It was true, she made very clear the two wouldn’t mix but he thought best to try it before you brush it off.

He’d definitely brush it off next time.

JJ and Will kept a close eye on the two, enjoying the family dinner and the smile Spencer had tattooed to his face.

“I wish he could’ve just called her, it’d been so much easier,” JJ spoke to Will as she ate the last bit of her soup. She was pretty sure Spencer forgot he even came in with them.

“Yeah, me too doll.”

Will was proud of how well JJ and Henry were doing with this plan, almost scary how good they worked together.

Henry jumped in his seat, prepared to get in the car and hear his favorite profiler, next to his mom, talk about the crush he has on his teacher.

It wasn’t so much to ask, Spencer to be happy, but the universe apparently decided against it. Henry was mad at the universe for that, he knew his Godfather didn’t deserve that.

Meanwhile back to the small table across the room, Spencer was preparing to leave the sweet lady, watching JJ slowly pick up her coat from across the room.

“I’m glad I could speak with you again.”

This was (Y/N) sad way of telling him to call, please God for him to just call her.

“Me too, sorry about not calling,” he did feel bad, but he wasn’t as confident as Morgan with this stuff, he didn’t think he could handle her voice that close to his ear in honesty.

“It’s fine, you’re busy I get it.”

She smiled as he stood up, slowly placing his coat back over his shoulder as Henry came skipping over to the table, smiling at his favorite teacher.

“Hiya Henry,” Ms. (L/N) reached out and fixed Henry's button on his shirt, something that made Spencer panic. She was perfect, he was sure of that.

“HI Ms. (L/N),” his voice was high and excited, as usual when things went as planned.

Spencer didn’t waste time, waving at (Y/N) and goofy smile on his face as he slowly exited the restaurant after JJ and Will, Henry never leaving his side, The boy bouncing on his feet until he was buckled in the backseat beside Spencer.

“So...” JJ trailed off, turning to look at Spencer from the passenger seat of the car.

“So?”

Spencer couldn’t stop smiling as he imagined the look on your face when you found it.

“How was it?”

“Nice, I suppose.”

Suddenly the plan was falling through.

“Are you going to call?”

“Maybe, but I have a feeling she’ll call first.”

(Y/N) unlocked the door to her apartment, tired as she let her bag fall on the light blue kitchen counter.

She slipped her flats off, turning back to her bag to find her phone so she could call her mother. A small slip of paper looked to be almost tapped to the front, folded with god knows what.

(Y/N) slowly removed the paper, un-folding the paper to the note that was left.

I’m sorry I didn’t call, but maybe you could keep me in check

(703)-555-9816

She felt her teeth run over her bottom lip, unlocking her phone and opening the text message app. She punched in the numbers, smiling as she typed out the text.

Spencer was about to get out of JJ car when his phone dung, Without thinking he fished it out and smiled at the contact pop up.

I’m not calling first, but maybe a text couldn’t hurt.

JJ, Will, and Henry didn’t need to ask who the text was from.

how do we feel about this story??

criminal minds tag list:

@itsarayofsunshine @m-n-m @aquarius-pisces-rose @victomizedbyreginageorge @avaxreid @erinxneil

spencer reid tag list:

@writtenbywolfie

aphrodite and her son cupid tag list:

@hypotheticalforest @bobo-bush @eternalharry @friendlyweirdobaby

#spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid/you #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #bau #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds

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noirineverysense · 3 years

Text

When they woke up, Hero’s teeth clenched as they tried to wriggle out of the iron bonds holding them. They were forced into a standing position, steel behind them keeping their back straight. Their restraints held them by a window, overlooking the city from the top floor of Villain’s recently built high-rise. It was a towering skyscraper, with a large, gaudy logo on top, letting the entire city know where the criminal was. As if they were completely untouchable.

‘As if,’ the thought made Hero growl audibly. They knew that they were in way over their head when they charged in without a plan. But with Superhero gone, someone had to step up. Someone had to stop Villain from turning the city into their own personal playground.

Hero looked around as far as they could, head twisting in awkward positions as they tried to make sense of the rest of the room behind them. They saw various ornaments and small sculptures memorialising Villain, but other than that it was fairly empty.

‘Egotism, thy name is Villain.’

Looking back through the window, Hero saw something reflected behind them. Large, cylindrical metal attached to the iron and steel holding Hero captive. It twisted across the floor and connected to some kind of machine. Hero felt their heart rate pick up; they didn’t like the look of things.

“Hello there, Hero! Enjoying the view? The city’s skyline sure is wonderful.” Villain’s cheery tone made Hero sick.

“It was better without this eyesore.”

“Now, now Hero, that’s no way to talk to someone’s who has your fate in their hands.” Villain’s voice sounded quieter as they walked away from where Hero was held.

Hero growled, then their breath hitched as they felt a small zap from the iron bars wrapped around them.

Villain smirked from their place near the machine Hero spotted earlier, it was now lit up and a switch had been flicked.

“Do you know what this is, Hero?”

Hero didn’t bother to turn their head or give a response.

Villain continued undeterred, “It’s a generator. Do you know what I’m going to do with it?”

Hero scoffed, “What? Electrocute me until I tell you about the Hero League? Nice try, but I won’t talk.”

“Oh no, no, no, Hero. I’m nothing if not original.” Villain let out a mocking laugh. “No, I’m going to kill you.”

Hero bristled at the bluntness of the statement, “Y-yeah?” They cursed at their shaking voice, “What’s so original about that?”

“See, you may be just a run-of-the-mill street hero. But I’m going to give you the superhero treatment.”

“W-what?” Hero swallowed as their heart hammered in their chest. No-one knew what happened to Superhero. One day, they just stopped appearing to challenge Villain, giving them free rein over the city.

“Just so you know, this is gonna suck.” It was the only warning Villain gave before they flicked another switch and Hero felt their body light on fire. They threw their head back as a scream tore through their throat. Light travelled out of their body, through the iron restraints then the metal pipes.

‘My powers!’ was Hero's last thought before their mind went blank. Their dark brown eyes dulled and the last thing they see is Superhero trapped in the ceiling. Their features seemingly frozen in time as the piercing blue of their eyes had been replaced with an empty grey and their mouth was ripped open by a scream.

#whumptober2021 #no.13 #this is gonna suck #fic #prompt #torture #restrained #death?#maybe #hero whumpee #villain whumper #i do love the hero/villain side of whumpblr #very fun #very dramatic #horror #-esque

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militantinremission · 3 years

Text

What's The American End Game strategy 4 Ukraine?

The situation between Russia & Ukraine is interesting. If We R 2 believe Joe Biden & his Administration, Russia is the aggressor threatening 2 invade Ukraine AT ANY MOMENT. Meanwhile, President Zelensky is pleading almost daily 4 The U.S. 2 tone down the sabre rattling. He attributes any Russian aggression 2 U.S. instigation. He is currently asking 4 NATO 2 put sanctions on Russia NOW, b4 Putin's Troops lay waste 2 Ukrainian Cities & their economy.

Talking Heads R asking why Vladimir Putin didn't make his move while Donald Trump was in office; maybe because The Trump Administration gave NATO 'The Middle Finger', & wasn't looking 2 expand into Ukraine? Russia, once again is getting tagged as The Villain, but if We look @ History, We see that Putin & The Russians may have good reason 2 play this international game of 'Chicken'. At the end of The Cold War, America & Great Britain promised The Soviet Union that while Germany would B reunited, NATO would not expand into Eastern Europe.

As We know, The U.S. & Great Britain didn't keep that promise, & I guess that The Russians had 2 draw their own line in the sand. When We add the fact that Russia & Ukraine SHARE Customs @ their borders, one could understand Vladimir Putin's concern over Ukraine joining NATO. America is pushing a Global LGBTQ... Agenda, & many Countries object 2 normalizing what They see as an Alternative Lifestyle. Russia is among those Countries. Sovereign Nations have a Right Of Expression, whether We agree w/ it, or not.

American 'Bullyism' may come back 2 bite The Biden Administration pretty hard. Putin is a formidable bully in his own right. The cost of placing 150,000 Soldiers & equipment around Ukraine's Border is proof that Vladimir Putin is playing High Stakes. Meanwhile, The U.S. isn't committed enough 2 protect U.S. Citizens stationed in Ukraine. What is Volodymyr Zelensky supposed 2 think about U.S. support? From here, it looks like a lot of 'lip service'.

Now, The Biden Administration is telling Americans 2 brace ourselves 4 economic turmoil that may result from any 'Russian Aggression'. America already has a nationwide problem w/ pot holed roads, along w/ bridges & tunnels desperately in need of repair; why is Biden sticking his nose in Russian- Ukrainian Affairs? What happened 2 the America that handled its affairs @ Home, b4 getting into World Affairs? The 'World's Police' moniker only benefits Defense Contractors. Letting violent criminals out On Bail 2 run rampant won't distract Us from this simple fact.

Joe Biden already has abysmal Poll #s; the economic backlash on America from a Russian Invasion of Ukraine is sure 2 make his popularity drop further. This Administration is pretty big on talking tough, but EVERYONE still remembers Afghanistan. Right now, The U.S looks like a Paper Tiger; better yet, a freshly plucked duck ready 2 B cooked- I hear China has a recipe... @ this rate, Donald Trump's chance of regaining The Presidency isn't far-fetched. Biden avoided being a 3 Time Loser, like Bob Dole, but unless he brings Real Tangibles 2 Black America (like he has 4 EVERYONE ELSE), he runs the risk of being a One Term President.

-I almost feel sorry 4 the poor suckers that voted 4 him.

#CluelessJoe #Kakistocracy

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falrytales · 3 years

Text

i just posted a couple of new opens which can be found here !

but if none of that tickles your fancy and you want to plot out something else, below the cut is some stuff that i’m interested in now that i’m back from my hiatus ♡

WANTED OPPOSITES

aisha dee

anne winters

brett dalton

charlie weber

danny pino

dj cotrona

douglas booth

dylan arnold

evan roderick

francia raisa

frank grillo

jesse lee soffer

john krasinski

justin theroux

lewis tan

madison bailey

manish dayal

manny montana

max riemelt

michele morrone

oliver jackson cohen

pablo schreiber

peter gadiot

priscilla quintana

rebecca rittenhouse

rudy pankow

samara weaving

scarlett byrne

trevante rhodes

zeeko zaki

WANTED PLOTS

“we got framed for a crime we didn’t commit so now we’re on the run and having to kill and steal to survive and avoid arrest and now we really are dangerous criminals” plot

we’re in rival gangs and i started dating you to get information for mine and i got caught but i only realized i was in love with you when you were jamming your knife into my stomach

“i’m your father’s mistress & and was nearly caught sneaking out early one morning but you saved the day by introducing me as your girlfriend && now your mother invited me to spend the summer at your vacation home so we have to spend the entire summer pretending to be in love.”

“you’ve just married one of my parents, but i don’t want yet another step parent. so i’m gonna tease you until you cave in, and i can tell everyone that you’re a creep. except you never seem to give in, and now i’m getting desperate for you to pay attention to me.”

plot where our muses were high school sweethearts and tried long distance for a while, swore they’d be together forever, gave each other promise rings, the whole ordeal. but they grew apart and broke up. years later, one is moving back home and they’re suddenly running in the same circles again and it’s bringing up a lot of … feelings. bonus if one of them is engaged to someone else

i really need a “you used to be my babysitter and although you were the worst babysitter alive (letting me stay up late, eating cake for dinner, watching rated r movies with me and helping me hide the ceramics we broke) i was practically in love w/ you and told you that i was gonna be your bf/gf someday. you would always just laugh and say that i was too young. WELL i’m older now and we just got matched on tinder/my parents just invited you to my birthday party/etc

a plot where one is a criminal that’s on the run from the police, and they stumble across this practically empty motel that’s in the middle of nowhere, and they think, hey, perfect place to hide out for a few weeks until the manhunt dies down. the motel is run by a married couple, and their sheltered, somewhat naive child – well, actually they’re an adult by now, but they’ve never left their small town, had a job outside the motel, or been anywhere, and their parents still treat them like a kid. the criminal checks in, of course not mentioning why they’re here, and the owners’ kid is fascinated by their guest – they hardly ever get guests for more than a night at a time, let alone guests who seem to have so many interesting stories and secrets…

muse a is a criminal that owns a technically-legal-but-shady business (casino, strip club, nightclub, etc.) that doubles as a front for their definitely-not-legal business. muse b is a brand-new employee. despite them not being in the shady business and rather low on the ranks (and thus, usually not even a blip on muse a’s radar), muse b catches muse a’s eye one night, and the two begin to talk and hang out at work – and that quickly turns into a relationship. the two genuinely fall for each other, and muse a slowly brings muse b further into their world, once they’re sure their criminal activities won’t scare muse b off.except there’s something muse a doesn’t know. muse b was hired by a rival criminal (or possibly the feds) to act as a spy, collecting info on muse a’s shady dealings in exchange for a huge chunk of change.

there’s a hard ass cop, and he always sticks by the rules and works hard and his work is his life but then one day he makes a huge bust in an underground sex ring and carries a girl out, and the media dub him as a superhero, and he feels strangely protective over this girl. So he goes and visits her at the hospital, and she lights up as soon as she sees him and just thanks him continuously, and he starts smiling a bit more, and she doesn’t really talk to anybody except for him because she doesn’t trust anybody except him. Cue her having trouble sleeping at night because of bad dreams and memories, so she calls him to help, and he does, he always does of course. And she calls him when her car breaks down in the middle of the night and she’s terrified, and he literally drops everything for her, and its so obvious they like each other, but he doesn’t know how to do relationships and she’s just a mess from everything thats happened to her, and so much angsty fluffy goodness of them two being awkward and shy dorks at times but also staying up and telling their entire life stories to each other

ok but a verse where muse a and muse b are exes and they go on a skiing trip with their mutual friends every year and it’s the first year they’ve been broken up but the friends really want them to get back together so they tell both of them that the other isn’t going and then when they show up it’s like !!! and it can be cliche like maybe muse a is dating someone new that muse b didn’t know about it but muse b finds out when one of the friends accidentally mentions that they all hate muse a’s significant other and they’re arguing constantly and can’t stand to be in the same room and a blizzard comes so they lose power and it’s freezing and everyone else paired up to cuddle for warmth so the muses are forced into it and it’s all ‘get your feet away from me they’re cold as fuck’ and ‘do you really have to breathe so loud right in my ear’ and ‘you used to like when i held you like this’ and that makes them smile a little and suddenly it gets all fond but muse a is still dating someone

“you’re my dad’s best friend and one night i come to your house because i got locked out of my apartment and you’re only two blocks away. i’m a little tipsy when i come over, and you have the smell of whiskey on your breath. you let me stay the night and it’s late and we’re still talking and we’re definitely not sober and somehow instead of hugging before i go to bed it’s a kiss. things snowball from there; when we wake up in the morning you panic because you just slept with your best friend’s daughter, and i panic because… well, for similar reasons. we promise never to talk about it and a few months go by? until you get a call from my dad ranting and raving about how some idiot got his baby girl pregnant because she’s already three months along and your hEART DROPS” (w/ or w/o the pregnancy)

muse a was born into the life of harleys, guns and rock and roll. her father was the president of a motorcycle gang, while her mother was a sweet woman who welcomed his lifestyle with open arms. it was an unspoken rule that no one in the club, especially full patched members, was allowed to touch muse a, but she couldn’t stop the feelings that had grown for her father’s co president aka muse b. he was older and rough around the edges and she knew he wouldn’t dare even looking at her twice due to the respect he had for her father. although, when she turned eighteen, muse a mustered up the courage to confess her feelings for him during a party at the club house. muse b was shocked to hear she had feelings for him, and told her that he wasn’t interested ( perhaps a small piece of him was? ) and muse a left the party heartbroken. unknown to anyone else, the reason she had decided on confessing her feelings was because she was skipping town the next morning, and didn’t want to have any regrets. she left her parents a short letter telling them that she needed to find her purpose in life and would come back home in the near future. over ten years passed and muse a finally did so, only because she got word her father had died at the arms of a rival gang. muse b had been ranked up as president and is dealing with new responsibilities, and he’s shocked when the scrawny, awkward kid he last saw ten years ago is now a beautiful woman. angst & drama ensues.

NOTES

i only rp on tumblr with people over 21

i only do m/f, f/f, f/nb pairings

like this post and i’ll message you (alternatively, message me first if there’s something on the list that interests you!)

#indie rp #indie smut rp #1x1 rp #1x1 #indie roleplay

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thecaptainhelm · 4 years

Text

Good Love

ch.2 is here, it’s technically an interlude, which is bad bc it’s so early. i never claimed to be good at this, so here’s Alfred being worried for almost two thousand words

Enjoy!

That day, it was one of the rare, bright mornings in Gotham, where the sky was overcast but the sun managed to shine through, sending dappled sunlight into the eastern wing of Wayne Manor. Alfred Pennyworth had been up before sunrise as he had been for decades, carrying out his more mundane tasks in service to the Waynes, though it would have been preferred that they learned to rely on him for other things.

Normally he wouldn’t complain quite so much, the stress from it was cumbersome in his old age, but the situation had been truly aggravating this past month.

The youngest master of the house had begun acting...strange. Strange in a way that genuinely worried both himself and Bruce. Damian was by no means the best at communication, but he did at least check in from time to time, and they saw him for when they needed extra hands on deck for their ‘night shift’ as they’d begun to call it.

He didn’t contact anyone for an entire week, dropping off radar, and the only reason anyone knew was that Dr. Norfey had left a message with his emergency contacts, asking him to set up a date to reschedule his bi-monthly appointments.

Everyone called Damian in a rush, and he said he was fine, but it was strange because Damian never did anything without a reason, ever. He was literally raised to make carefully planned decisions, and that idea was only reinforced under their care. They’d had to find out because he missed his therapy session as if he didn’t worry Alfred enough.

For the past three years, he had been in the care of a reputable therapist, competent, and more importantly, safe for Damian. They specialized in mentally and emotionally abused patients and unearthing childhood trauma. The success rate of Dr. Norfey was slightly above average, as most patients either leave positive reviews or receive recommendations for more intensive help. After arguing for days on end with the entire family, he finally relented and scheduled a two-hour session. After that, he went about his routine as usual.

Nothing extreme had happened, thank God, but there did seem to be a positive response. He met with Dr. Norfey again after two weeks, glaring at anyone who would look too long, daring them to speak up. It wasn’t long before it became the new normal. The young master gradually lost his scowl for something gentler, appearing relaxed when home, though he went back to it as soon as he left the premises. Certainly, he had his good days and his bad days, but he seemed all the more certain of himself as an individual. Truly, he didn’t think Damian could make him anymore proud.

Then, he met a young lady.

Her name was Marinette Dupain-Cheng, a petite young woman with kind eyes and a bright smile set upon a youthful face. She was polite, witty, with no small amount of talent and charm, and an endless amount of patience for Alfred’s brood. She was a breath of fresh air, especially for the suffocated Damian.

An investigation into her profile revealed that she was a rising star of the cutthroat fashion realm, her resume boasting high-profile clientele and lucrative business contracts. She hadn’t had anything notorious to her name, no criminal record, no illegal transactions, almost normal to the point of suspicion. After a while though, they managed to dig up something insidious.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng had connections to a terrorist.

Six years prior, a supervillain appeared in Paris for the first time, holding the city, it’s citizens, and tourists hostage for what would be the better part of three years. During that period, Ms. Dupain-Cheng would then begin to date Adrien Agreste, and then break up with him a year later. She and her entire family disappeared soon after. A month later, Hawkmoth was arrested, along with his accomplice Mayura, and seventeen years old son, Adrien Agreste. It didn’t take a detective to figure out what happened.

Looking at the classified investigation reports uncovered more of the truth, that Gabriel had the idea to use the miraculous to revive his wife. He planned to sacrifice his son’s girlfriend, a girl his wife would never know about by using Adrien to make the wish. In the end, he never even got his hands on the miraculous. Marinette had started to become uncomfortable with Gabriel’s strange questions and talked to Ladybug and Chat Noir.

When she told them of what types of questions she was asked, they grew concerned and sent her and her family to a safe house outside of Paris. From there, with police assistance, evidence was gathered and a warrant was issued. Gabriel was confident until Supergirl arrived, using her x-ray vision on the property and revealing the hidden lair beneath the building. He was quickly apprehended without fuss, and it was case closed. Adrien had been arrested as well, but he was quickly acquitted when evidence showed that he wasn’t involved in any way.

After that was the media firestorm, and the Dupain-Chengs weren’t spared. However, Ms. Dupain-Cheng was skilled as she showed her hand, and it was a revolution. Out from the woodwork poured celebrity after celebrity, vouching for her and her family.

She managed to turn her pariah status into that of a martyr in the eyes of the public because that was the bible-sworn truth. She’d rose to the occasion and exceeded all expectations. After that, she faded from the media for two years before returning as a critically acclaimed designer. The Bats gave her a grace period and soon they too began to gradually lower their guard.

And young master Damian appeared to be quite smitten as he decided to open his heart as well.

He watched his young master attempt to curry favor with the young lady, awkwardly wooing her to their family’s amusement. He saw her cautiously reciprocate, and he saw their tentative courtship, budding and fragile, blossom into something beautiful and delicate. He saw them weather the tough days and work hard for their relationship. He saw Damian start to let himself be happy without restraint. Soon a year had passed, then two, and then three. In the fourth year, master Bruce started to hint to Alfred to update the family registry, as joyful as he was.

So when he was sent word that Damian’s belongings would be shipped home, he hoped that Ms. Marinette would be there with him. Perhaps misfortune had come to their apartment and most of the young lady’s things had to be sent to storage, but it wasn’t meant to be. The message he sent left no room for misunderstandings.

I’m sending my things back to the manor. I’ll be home by the end of the week.

The young master shall be returning alone, then.

Alfred had long since received the delivery and moved everything back to its original place, save for items that were acquired after he’d moved out. Now the day had come for Damian to arrive home. The moment was both exactly and not at all what he’d expected.

On an unusually sunny morning, about an hour before noon, the one and only Alfred Pennyworth opened the doors to the sight of the youngest master, Damian.

His appearance was neat, shoulders back, and posture straight as a rod. There was not a hair out of place. However, his eyes…

It had been a while since he’s seen his eyes look so strained, it was clear that he had not slept well. This was when he knew that Ms. Marinette would not be returning for a visit for some time

“Welcome back, Master Damian,” he said.

“Hello, Alfred.” A rigid nod. “I have returned.”

“So it appears,” he opened the doors and waved Damian in. “I have your favorite pot of tea on. Would you care for a cup in the dining room or the parlor?”

“Neither. I’ll have some, but I’d like to rest for a while.” Damian stepped gingerly through the door, as though he was indeed tired. Normally, he wouldn’t let such an obvious wound slide, but he knew better to pressure a man trapped in a corner.

“Very well, young master,” Alfred shut the door and turned to accompany Damian through the main hall, a step behind.

“You’ll find your belongings in your old bedroom with the facilities fully stocked, as per usual. Please be sure to take care of your wound and to reschedule your session with Dr. Norfey before tomorrow.”

“Yes, thank you, Alfred.” A pause. Damian had never been one for conversation, but he would usually ask what was going on in the manor without wasting time.

“As your father will be out late at the office along with your brothers, dinner will be held an hour earlier to accommodate their sudden absence.”

A noncommittal hum came from the young man in front of him and Alfred nearly furrowed his brow in worry.

All too soon they arrived and Damian turned back to the Wayne family butler, stoic.

“Thank you, Alfred,” he nodded slightly. “I’ll be out for dinner, but I am feeling a bit hungry after my drive. “

“Say no more,” Alfred gave him a placid smile. “I’ve already set out the tea and snacks on your desk. I shall return for the platter after you have finished.”

Damian finally let loose a tiny smirk. “Thank you, Alfred.”

“Of course, sir.” A courteous bow was the last Damian saw of the butler as he entered and closed the door to his room.

Alfred walked back towards the kitchen to check on his pot roast, feeling relieved. Damian wasn’t at his best, that much was evident, but that didn’t mean he was at his worst. At least not yet. However, there was still hope, because while it seemed like he had regressed in his current state, his tired eyes said that he had some sort of revelation.

Alfred began to prepare Damian’s portion, wondering what could have happened between the two for him to return alone, looking as though he would rather be anywhere else? The list of options was short but severe. He could have told her any number of secrets about his past, family history, current vigilante occupation, and while he had faith in Ms. Marinette, the young woman was by no means a saint.

It could have also been that she broke up with Damian, and it might be his extreme bias, but he couldn’t fathom why. Yes, this was Damian they were talking about, but he’d been in therapy for close to eight years now and was making steady progress as he continued to root out his trauma and slowly but surely heal. However, he did not know how their relationship was faring, as both proved to be rather private. Though, the young miss was more shy than possessive.

Damian had over ten years of trauma, all throughout his early childhood, and suddenly he was becoming an adult. A confused, depressed, and unstable child had become trapped in the body and mind of an adult, and while everyone helped to the best they could, all while trying to help themselves, it wasn’t enough. It never would be, not for this battle.

Alfred sighed, feeling his years. He pulled dinner out to rest and started to set the table, just in time for the proximity sensors to notify him of Bruce’s car pulling into the estate. Right on schedule.

“Welcome home Masters Bruce, Timothy, and Duke. If you would, hurry and wash before dinner. It’s been quite the long day, has it not?”

there, it’s gonna be a while for ch. 3

#Good Love ch 2 #daminette #marinette x damian #maridami

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suwya · 4 years

Text

Till the Stars Had Run Away - Chapter 5

Summary: Killian Jones was a voyager. Actually, he was many things, or at least he had been - a lieutenant, a brother, a loving boyfriend - until everything had turned upside down and his life had hit an all time low. So, he gave up. Aboard his spaceship he abandoned Arcadia, his planet, navigating the stars and other solar systems in search of... well, he still didn't know what he was searching for, but his rule was "never remain in the same place longer than necessary."

Rating: M

Prologue; Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

AO3

A/N: Thank you @thisonesatellite for being the best beta I could ever ask for . And thank to all of you who are reading this.

Chapter 5 . .

“Do not wait to strike

till the iron is hot;

but make it hot

by striking.”

(W. B. Yeats)

Everyone on the Jolly Roger was almost ready to start the journey back home and the crew was busy sorting out the last details. In the end, the little holiday had been a pleasant one; Emma was happy she had decided to embark on this adventure. But she also looked a bit worried. Wrinkles showed up on her forehead while she was chewing her bottom lip. “Henry, would you mind checking if everything is in order in our cabin?”

As soon as the kid left the main hall, Emma approached Killian. “Can I talk to you for one second?”

Killian observed how she was acting anxiously, often checking on the door in case Henry would come back. “No need to find an excuse with your boy. If you want to spend some time alone with me, you just have to ask.” He tried to minimize the moment.

She answered him with a roll of her eyes, but it was clear that something was bothering her. “Are we leaving already?” She asked.

“Probably not before tomorrow morning. I need some more time to replace the fuel and our water supplies.”

“Oh, okay.” Was her short reply. But Killian detected apprehension.

“What’s the rush?” He inquired.

She dismissed the matter with a wave of her hand and he decided to take advantage of the moment alone with her. “Why did you accept?” He suddenly asked. “To come on this trip.” He added to her puzzled expression.

“I just want to offer Henry every possible chance to live a life full of good experiences.”

Killian hummed, but he had a feeling there was something more. He made another step towards her, invading her space, and he could now distinguish the freckles that dotted her cheeks, which he found very endearing. He tilted his head and kept his eyes connected with hers, trying to read what she was not telling him.

Emma did not step back nor she lowered her stare, but she was biting her lower lip again. "And I have a lead." She admitted eventually.

He didn't see that coming and arched an eyebrow in question. "Come again?"

She looked briefly over her shoulder towards the door, but Henry wasn't in sight. "I may have found someone that could have information about my adoptive parents and their plan," she whispered in case Henry could hear her, "I know where this person is, but I don’t know how to reach him."

Killian was all ears even though he somehow already knew he wouldn't like what was coming next.

"I need a favor,” she started explaining. “This man, he appears to be on a planet… ahm...” She handed him a little piece of paper with some coordinates. “Here, see? Do you think we could make a stopover there on our way back home?”

Killian glanced briefly at the numbers written on the paper and nodded. An unpleasant feeling of anxiety was growing inside him.

“I have already arranged an appointment, well sort of, with this guy.” Emma went on. “I can set the meeting at an hour when Henry should be already asleep. He doesn't usually wake up at night, but in case he does… would you distract him until I come back?"

"What kind of appointment? Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Will you?" She insisted, avoiding his questions.

Killian sighed. "On one condition.”

“Shoot."

“What’s this guy’s name?” Killian asked as if it wasn’t a big deal.

Emma stared at him for a few seconds. “Are you going to check on him?”

“Of course I will.”

“I have already done that. Thank you, but you don’t have to worry about me.”

“I’m the captain here, and I have to take all the possible precautions when it comes to my ship. And you meeting someone whose name I don’t even know could represent a risk.” Killian was starting to lose his patience. Everything about this appointment was screaming danger.

Emma crossed her arms in front of her defensively, but in the end, she surrendered. “Fine. His name is Sidney Glass and he’s a journalist, he’s not a criminal or anything. He travels a lot, that’s why I’m pretty sure he’s got more current information than what I have about New-Tolemac.”

“So what’s the plan, Swan? Seduce him until he speaks?” He asked sardonically.

“Would it be any problem?” She retorted.

He swallowed hard. “I don’t like it. If he’s a journalist, it won’t be easy to make him spill any possible secret he may know.”

Emma looked behind her back again. Still no sign of her son. “Will you take care of Henry or not?”

Killian finally nodded. “I assure you, nothing will happen to the boy while he’s in my charge.” But his gut told him he was already regretting the decision.

~·~·~·~

Days passed quietly. Killian tried to bring up the topic from time to time, but she wasn’t keen on talking about her upcoming appointment, always avoiding his questions and rapidly changing the subject. She was also spending less and less time sitting near him in the main cabin at night, just in case he started worrying again. He suspected she knew that meeting this man could be risky, but he soon learned how stubborn she could be, especially with a goal in mind.

That’s why he was surprised when the evening before the scheduled appointment she approached him while cooking dinner. Henry was sitting nearby, immersed in his tablet.

“What the hell is that thing?” She asked pointing to a big hairy bug Killian was holding.

“It’s a mottled furry cockroach.” He answered as the most obvious thing.

“Yuck!” Emma scrunched her nose in disgust. “It’s huge!”

“This one? Oh, no, it’s just a baby. Grown-ups can reach even 3.5 feet length.” Killian seemed delighted.

“Is it dead?”

“Of course it is. One little bite of this creature and you’re going to pass some nasty hours of life. Its foam is poisonous.” He explained.

“And what exactly are we going to do with it?”

“Why, eat it!” Was his answer. “It’s our dinner.”

“You are not being serious, are you?”

“Believe me, with a nut of garlic butter and some secret spices only I know, it’s exquisite.”

She moved close to him, probably more than necessary. He shot an inquisitive look at her. She spoke as lower as she could so that Henry couldn't listen. “Are you trying to poison me, so that I can’t go to my appointment?”

He turned towards her and stared directly into her eyes, his face mere inches from hers. “Try something new, love, it’s called trust.” And he could sense a sudden shift in her behavior, even though he didn't know if it was because she was making an effort and opening her trust to him or if it was because they were standing so close he could feel her warm breath on his face. They stayed like that for a few beats of their hearts.

“Could you please stop making eyes at each other when I'm in the same room? It's gross.” Henry said behind them.

Emma hurried back to the table “I don't do that”, she stated, while Killian tried to concentrate on the ingredients in front of him even if he couldn't suppress a smile. What the hell was with this woman that made him act like a teenager with his first crush?

As soon as the meal was prepared Killian served it on a metallic tray accompanied by some rehydrated vegetables. When all were served with their portion of food, he opened a bottle of yellow sauce and poured just the right amount on the plates. After that, he sat down waiting for his guests’ reactions.

Emma was fidgeting with her fork, moving pieces of food from one side of the plate to the other.

Henry was the first one in giving in to it, always famished. “It's not bad at all!” He exclaimed enthusiastically.

Killian put his right elbow on the table and rested his head on his hand. He was staring expectantly at Emma.

“Okay, let's do this!” She breathed. And then she put a piece of meat in her mouth and closed her eyes, probably for savoring it better, or maybe for just not seeing what she was eating. After a couple of seconds, she emitted a sound that Killian would describe as a moan “God. This is delicious!” She purred.

Killian’s mouth fell open. He was conscious of ogling her and his pupils were probably already dilated, but he couldn't help himself.

As soon as Emma opened her eyes and met his, a bright red color flushed her cheeks, but Killian couldn't figure out if it was because she suddenly understood what she had just done, or because his inappropriate thoughts were written all over his face like an open book.

“Guys, you're doing it again.” Henry managed to say with his mouth full of food without averting his eyes from his plate.

The rest of the dinner passed in awkward silence.

~·~·~·~

It was already dark when Emma emerged from her door, wearing a skin-tight black dress that left little to the imagination. A dark leather jacket that she wore hanging from one shoulder and high heels of the same color completed her outfit.

Killian was just walking from the main cabin to the ship's entrance when he stopped short: jaw dropped, admiring the vision before him. "You look stunning." He breathed.

He tried to move towards her as casually as possible, adjusting his trousers to relieve the sudden unpleasant pressure and praying to the gods that she didn't notice it. But of course, she did, if her quick look down and a sudden blush on her cheeks were any indication.

"Good." She exhaled not making eye contact with him.

"Remind me why letting you go alone is a good idea." He spoke in a low voice at a cautious distance from her, restraining the urge to put a rebellious lock behind her ear.

"I can take care of myself." She stated finally looking defiantly in his eyes.

"I’m aware of that. But that Glass man, you don't know anything about him. Just be careful."

She swayed a bit towards him, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're being jealous." She was teasing him, he didn't need to be a mind reader to know it. But that wasn't the time to play that game, so he just gave her a warning look.

"Don't fuck it up." She smiled, and then she stepped next to him, invading him with her scent. She put her mouth to his ear and whispered: “And yes, the pun was intended.”

With that, she turned back and made her exit through the main gate.

Bloody Hell! Killian thought.

~·~·~·~

As soon as Emma left the ship, Killian sat down at his control board and switched on his computer. He inserted the name of Sidney Glass and waited until he had all the results. He had already checked on the man several times, but he hadn’t found anything conclusive yet. Maybe there wasn’t anything to find out, but something inside him was telling him to keep looking.

Not much appeared on the screen. A bunch of local prizes for articles he had written years ago. Appearances in several news conferences on various planets. He didn’t seem to have a family and he had traveled a lot.

This was frustrating. Sidney looked clean, this should have reassured him, and yet... But then two words appeared on the screen: "Lepka Industry". The man had worked for the Industry at an early age. It couldn't be a coincidence, could it? Killian thought.

What are you getting into? The LED light started to blink.

“Not now, Liam.” Was Killian’s short answer.

If I were you, I would go back to Althea-Seals as soon as possible, deposit that woman and her lad safe at home, and forget about them forever.

“Well, luckily, you’re not me.”

You don't know her, brother, you have no idea what troubles she could bring. And any connection with the Industry, even the most feeble one, means danger. You, of all people, should know that. Listen to me, Killian. Forget about her, before it's too late.

A voice inside Killian whispered to listen to his older brother, always with words of wisdom. But another voice, louder, was suggesting to ignore him. “Maybe it's already too late.” He sighed. .

~·~·~·~

. And it was late, indeed. Literally. Too much for his likes. More than three hours had passed since Emma had gone out, and she hadn’t come back yet. Killian was starting to feel anxious. What if something had happened to her? And he was stuck on his ship, taking care of her son. He went to the kitchen counter and poured a glass of his favorite liquor. He stared at it but didn’t drink it. He shouldn't indulge in its temptation. Henry was sleeping just a door down from him.

He was still pondering the option of swallowing the amber liquid or not when Emma opened the main gate with the code Killian had previously given to her.

First thing inside she took off her high heeled shoes, balancing precariously on her wobbly legs. She looked very tired.

“I’m exhausted” she exhaled “and I had too many drinks.”

“How was your date?” He tried to ask nonchalantly. He didn't want to show her how annoyed he was, but he couldn't help a scowl.

“It wasn't a date.” Was her dry reply.

He released a sarcastic chuckle.

She watched him carefully, “Are you drunk?”

“I would never do that while in charge of your boy, Swan.” His patience was hanging by a thread.

Emma approached him. Killian straightened his back and stared into her eyes, trying to keep control of the situation, and not wanting to give her the privilege of berating him without case, but his confidence had never intimidated her. She looked at the glass he was still holding and took it from his grasp drinking it down as if it were water. He was impressed, he knew his rum should have burned her throat.

“You still haven't answered my question.” He insisted.

“I don't know.” Was her evasive answer.

“And what does that mean?”

She shrugged. “I had some news, but not what I expected to hear.”

Bloody infuriating woman. Killian internally cursed. “Good or bad news?”

She exchanged the glass with the bottle on the counter and drank directly from that. “I don't want to talk right now.” She had no intention of divulging more information, it was clear in her posture. She was trying hard to maintain control over the situation.

He was not one to back down from a challenge. “And what do you want to do?”

At her lack of reply, he pressed “Did he touch you?”

She took another sip without averting her eyes from his, but without answering either.

To hell with personal space, he thought. With a quick movement, he took the bottle from her and deposited it in the sink, then he cornered her between himself and the kitchen counter. “Did you have fun, Princess?” He asked, mocking her royal title.

“You don't have a right to question my actions, Jones.”

“Believe me, I'm very well aware of it!” He stated, punctuating the last consonant, his face at mere inches from hers. The first thing Killian registered was that she lowered her eyes to his mouth. The second thing was that she vehemently grabbed the lapels of his vest. The third was the distinct sensation of her burning lips on his. And he had the clear impression that in the kiss she was putting all of her frustrations, and all of her hopes, and all of her exhaustion, and whatever other feeling she was experiencing.

It was frantic and desperate and hot. And Killian’s head was swirling: because of the lack of oxygen, because everything in her was intoxicating because he was already addicted and she was his drug.

“That was…” he murmured when they had to split up to recover some air.

But she didn't let him finish. “A one-time thing.” She disentangled from him and when she reached her cabin without looking back she said “goodnight Captain,” and disappeared behind the door. .

~·~·~·~

When Emma got out of bed the next morning, she had a dull headache from her hangover and a feeling that something was wrong. The ship was swaying, Killian had probably taken off during night, not wanting to waste other time to get home. Her mind immediately flew to him and the last moments of the previous day.

She had kissed him. Why? What had she been thinking? She told herself that she had probably drunk more than she could handle and she shouldn't give it any importance, but would go on behaving towards Killian exactly as she had done before. Nothing would change. They were both adults and it had been just a kiss.

But what a hell of a kiss it was. She couldn’t avoid thinking about it.

She couldn't fool herself either. She felt attracted to him, and he was probably aware of it, too. With his self-confidence, his lean torso, his ever unkempt dark hair, and his scruffy stubble. But Emma was not one who easily surrendered to a man's charms. She didn't want to get lost in the ocean blue of his eyes. She wanted to be found. The problem was that she didn't know if she could trust him.

But it was not just the turmoil of a morning after that was bothering her, something wasn’t right, she could sense it. A shake and a loud noise confirmed her foreboding. Henry woke up with a start and they briefly looked at each other before bursting into the main cabin. “What was that?” They asked in unison.

The ship was shaking and Killian had visible difficulties keeping it stable. The knuckles of his right hand were white with the effort and his bionic hand was in an impossible position. Through the windows, they could spot a very close planet.

The red LED was blinking and the metallic voice resounded in the cabin: Damages on the orbital maneuvering system and the vertical stabilizer, one of the propulsion engines is offline. I’m asking permission for landing, but I’m not getting any signals back.

Something shiny passed close to the ship.

“Was that a meteorite?” Henry asked.

“I have no idea what that was. The moment we entered the gravitational layer of this bloody planet, those bright flying things appeared out of nowhere.”

“Are we being attacked?” Was Emma’s worried question. “And why did we go so close to land?”

“There wasn’t supposed to be a planet here!” Killian was almost shouting from frustration.

Another loud bang shook the ship even worse.

“To hell with permissions! Hold tight, we’re landing over there.” He exclaimed, pointing to what looked like a spaceship's port.

Emma sat down on the same chair she used to sit at night. Then took Henry’s arm as an invitation to sit upon her knees and so Killian could keep doing his job without interference. The boy was already reaching for the man in his endless need to be helpful, he probably thought that he could give a hand in holding up the steering. But another flashing thing hit the ship and a piercing alarm started echoing through the cabin. That deterred Henry and he sat upon Emma’s lap, grabbing his mother's shoulders to avoid falling as a strong jolt shook the ship to its foundations.

While they approached the ground, big rocks appeared outside the windows, floating, and they became incandescent as soon as they came in contact with whatever atmosphere was surrounding the planet.

Was this land itself spitting meteorites? Killian tried to understand what was happening, but even if he had traveled to many different places, he had never seen anything like that. He was also worried about his crew, he wanted to look at them, be sure they were all right, but he was too concentrated on avoiding the rocks and not getting hit again.

The port was approaching fast. Killian internally prayed to the Gods above that the brakes would still work properly. He just hoped that someone could rescue the three of them alive.

After what seemed to be a long and quite difficult maneuver, the ship touched down. He turned off the engines and everything went silent. They looked at each other, waiting for a sign of life, but nothing came. Killian leaned his head against the back of the chair and exhaled. Then he got up and started rummaging through his belongings.

Emma and Henry were clinging to each other, but the boy slipped away and ran towards Killian hugging him. “You did it!” He exclaimed. The man was taken aback by this show of affection, he scratched a spot behind his right ear and tried to defuse “I’m a hell of a Captain!”

Killian took a shoulder bag from behind his hammock, and two laser pistols, delivering one of them to Emma. “What are you doing?” She asked, holding cautiously the weapon in her hand.

“We sent a request for an emergency landing and nobody answered. This planet does not appear in any known charts. I am taking the necessary precautions, it's best to be prepared for anything, good or bad.”

“I want a weapon, as well.” Henry stood there with his back straight and his hands on his hips, to reaffirm his statement.

“No way.” Emma thought that was enough to put an end to the subject.

“But what if I’m in danger and I need to defend myself?” He insisted stubbornly.

Killian retrieved his automatic harpoon from a locker near the control dashboard. “Take this. Munitions should be downstairs.” But before Henry could run towards the stairs, he grabbed the boy’s elbow and added “Don’t use it unless it’s necessary, lad. And try not to hurt yourself.” Henry nodded and ran away enthusiastically.

Stunned by the remark, Emma stood, mouth agape, staring at Killian. “Are you kidding me?”

“Don’t worry. It probably won’t work. I forgot to recharge it.”

“You forgot to recharge your weapon.” It wasn’t a question.

He was moving fast around the cabin, retrieving who knows what from here and there, packing his satchel “It was supposed to be a simple commercial trip: no big risks.” He stopped right in front of her and raised one eyebrow. “Wasn’t it?”

She looked at him chewing her bottom lip. “What are we going to do?”

“Go outside, have a look at the damages, find the replacement parts, and hope to come back home alive from this place.”

~·~·~·~

. The planet seemed to be desert, apart from the port there was nothing, just sand, and rocks. No people on the horizon.

“This is strange,” Emma said as the three of them were exploring the surrounding area. “Can you feel it too?” A sense of oppression and discomfort pervaded her.

Killian nodded. “It’s too quiet. Something is wrong.”

A large stone flew from nowhere and Killian saw as Henry was right on its trajectory. He launched himself trying to protect the boy from the inevitable collision. The last thing he felt was a sharp pain in his chest and he couldn’t breathe. Then everything went black.

#cs ff #cs au #Till the Stars Had Run Away #alternative universe - science fiction #space au #My writing

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