#I was supposed to meet with another client that I’m sitting for at the beginning of the month too but now I gotta put that off. again.

[imogenkol]

Pray 4 me 🥲

[pocket-vvardvark]

Ok ok so idk why, but I really want to head-canon that Meriano and Vanus knew each other bc he transported ancient relics to the guild. Anyways, idk if I ever said stuff about Angelica, but she takes an interest in translations in Lillandril after hearing about the college of sapiarchs nearby and what they do. She joins the mages guild way later, since she's too young to join the college during her family's stay in Lillandril. Anyways, this nonsense ensues during...idk Greymoor maybe??? Vanus is going to light her ass on fire guys tell her to stop 😭

The early morning sun rose steadily above the light-pink sky–a surefire sign of winter. No matter how cold it became in Skyrim, the sunrises and sunsets were at least pretty to look at. Vanus was never built for the cold, he imagines no mer is. Summerset never experienced winter, it remained cast in vibrant green and rosy pink and lavender foliage forever. Perhaps this was a welcome change, especially since the usual was beginning to become stale. That isn’t why he is here, though. An associate of his that transports relics to Solitude has happened upon a particularly interesting find. An Ayleid slate which is in dire need of translating. Fortunately, his associate’s daughter is quite the formidable translator. He has heard first hand that her skills are not to be underestimated in favor of her age. Whether that is familial pride or the truth, he supposes he’ll find out soon enough. 

Manicured fingernails scrape across his robes, and Vanus jumps at the sudden touch. The woman meets his gaze with a cat-like smile as she faces him–her overwhelming perfume surrounding him.

“Ah.” Vanus clears his throat, “You must be the translator.” 

She doesn’t respond immediately as she gives him a once-over. Her smile is becoming unnerving the longer they sit in silence. Her fingers pull away to pat his cheek, earning a grunt of disapproval from him. 

“I have a name, handsome.” She bats her long eyelashes from beneath her tear-stained smoky-eye.

“Angelica.” He answers.

She hums, “So, you do know it. You know…my father talked an awful lot about you.” Angelica takes a seat across from him, checking her nails. “So did my sister.” She adds.

“Sister?” he quirks a brow.

“Mhm.” She glances up, “Hm, let’s see…what do you call her?” She toys with a strand of dark-red hair between her fingers. “The hero of Nirn? The soulless one? Ooh, ooh, I know.” She grins, basking in his attention. “The vestige.” He perks up in realization. So, this was the vestige’s sister, Angelica. They don’t seem to have much in common. This woman is not at all like Alethia–kind and sweeter than pie. Angelica was more like a nixad, or a banekin, but perhaps twice as stubborn than both. Gregarious and a trickster, the perfect combination for a headache, he thinks. At least he could use her charming personality for social visits with clients, provided that she behaves. 

Angelica tilts her head with a thoughtful expression, and there’s a flicker of hope in his mind that she won’t be terribly rowdy. 

“So, want to have dinner with me?” Well, that squashed any hope he had. Entirely. 

Vanus sighs, massaging his temples, “No, Angelica. You’re grossly misunderstanding this visit if you think I came here for smalltalk.”

She pouts, “Aww, you didn’t? Papa said we would get along, since we’re opposites and all.”

Great, her father filled her head with stories about him. None that were accurate, it seems.

“I’m afraid it isn’t likely we will become closer than…acquaintances. At best.” He harrumphs. 

She crosses her milky thighs, smirking when they catch his attention. Her flirtations would certainly cause him to strain something with how vexing they are becoming. 

“That’s a shame.” She drawls, her eyes lidding dangerously. “I don’t mind the age gap. In fact, don’t you think it adds to the temptation? Or, maybe you prefer something mundane. I could be the perfect housewife.”

Without another word, Vanus shoves the tablet her way. “No chance, Angelica. I’m far too capable a mage to be drawn in by your poorly done act of seduction. It’ll take more than that to tempt the likes of the great mage.” His arrogance excited her, and that only irritated him further.

She rolls her eyes, smiling playfully as she grabs the slate. 

Her eyes take the small stone tablet in, observing it cautiously. Moss gathers on its corners and slightly obscures some words. Hopefully, those wouldn’t be terribly hard to ponder, but that is what her work usually details. Endless pondering upon various observations. 

“Well, well, well…” Her voice trails off, eyes stuck on some letter or worn down structure. “Interesting.”

Vanus looks on, a look of impatience passing his expression when she glances up to meet his eyes.

Gently, Angelica lies the tablet back in its case. “This little thing has spent some time in the ocean, hm?”

“Don’t tell me that’s all you've gathered.” He frowns when she giggles.

A pale hand waves him off, “Oh, please, I’ll need some more time before I dig deeper, my dear archmagister.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Cue another snort, “It’s made from marble, maybe something softer than that. The ocean won’t readily dissolve hard rock, you see? These cracks and formations came from somewhere coastal. But, you’ve gathered that already, I take it?”

Vanus huffs, “Quite so. I expect you to take this seriously. You work for the mages guild already, so I hope this attitude isn’t permanent, initiate.”

Angelica guffaws, “Ah-ah-ah.” She waves a long-nailed finger as though she were scolding a kitten. “Try Expert. I’m no child, Vanus. Even if the years between us say so, I do know my translations.”

“Fine, then at least be agreeable.”

She blows a kiss, “Anything for you, handsome.” He doesn’t have time to scold her, because she gathers the case and makes a bee-line for the mages guild.

His shoulders sag once her profile is done swaying out of the pub. This woman was going to be the bane of his existence for however long he needed to remain on this miserable rock.

[softlyapocalytpic]

Wait omg I’m dumb, I didn’t actually press the submit button. I was GONNA ask about James Finding the File in your WIP tag game yesterday but then I didn’t lmao. Better late then never tho so: 👀

Oh lmao you're totally good!! Better late than never!! c: so happy to answer questions about this one!

This is the next part of Detective Amy shenanigans that begins like this:

Detective Lockhart’s office was tucked away in a part of the vault that few people came by, but that was fine with her. She’d never been the kind of person who thrived in the spotlight. She sat alone in a dusty room with one lamp, cluttered by the belongings of the other tenants in the building. The price of low rent. She’d rather have a place of her own, but credits were tight and she was saving up for something far more important. This was where she kept her most important case files. Out of the hands of the prying public and locked away for only her eyes to see. If only she could get that journal with the lock and key, and if only it wasn’t in pink with hearts on it… Then she’d truly have her information secure.  A knock on the door sounded as true and sure as any other. What poor soul had made their way to her doorstep today? “Come in, but only if you’re willing to do business.” Leo pushed open the door, jamming his fingers into the slit where the lamp cord came out, and mumbled, “Ammy! Give Capn pees?” Amy siged, annoyed, and got the Captain Cosmo action figure out of the toy chest next to her, “Why don’t you just keep on the nightstand? What if I was in here with a client, huh?” She handed it to him and he broke out into a happy wiggle. “Tank you, Ammy!” He kissed her cheek clumsily and toddled away giggling happily.   Amy pulled the closet door closed and sighed ruefully. She remembered when she used to be that young and free- when she spent her days running through the halls of the vault on her Mama’s shoulders. She took out a lollipop out of her dad’s old cigar case and ripped off the wrapper. It was getting harder to remember her. Each day that passed was another day away from the past, and another day away from Mama. Amy sniffed. She wasn’t about to let that happen to someone else’s mom.  The authorities Daddy and Officer Gomez didn’t want her working the Deloria case, but their explanation was lacking. It was fishy. (Or, rather, she figured it sounded fishy. The cops in the Silver Shroud were always held back by the law, so there was a lot they couldn’t say to “civilians”. Amy had tried to argue she wasn’t one, but Officer Gomez pointed out that even as a private detective or a vigilante she wasn’t the law. He had her there.)  Daddy looked like he’d had more he wanted to say, but he got called into a meeting with the Overseer. With both of them busy that put Amy home alone with with Ms. Beatrice (blech) and Leo. It was more like house arrest. They were holding her in her own home on a weekend when there was a mystery out there that needed to be solved! She was supposed to hangout with Amata today too…

And ends a little something like this:

“Sweetheart, what is this?” He’s broken. Sitting on Amy’s bed with the lamp lighting the room. Leo’s asleep in his crib/bed. Amy is scared. Scared that he’s mad at her, scared that he’ll take it away, she wants to rip it away from him. So she gets angry. She screams, “That’s not yours!” She jumps on the bed and desperately tries to claw it away from him. He keeps it out of her reach, “Sweetie- calm down-” “No! It’s not yours! Give it back! Give it back!” Amy’s hitting him, crying. James’ heart is breaking but he doesn’t give it back. He knows he needs to burn all of this. She knows so much more than she should. He has to get rid of this before she actually tells anyone about this, “I can’t sweetie. I can’t. This isn’t-” his voice falters because he’s guilty and heartbroken, “This isn’t healthy for you.” “SHE’S ALIVE! SHE’S NOT DEAD! She’s just gone! I can prove it, I can prove it!!!” Amy is so desperate, so desperate to get her mom back, to not forget. 

Amy is a little too smart for her own good. Thanks for asking <3

[kshira]

would u write reader rough makin out with bonten mikey, ran, koko (separet) in their office but someone knocks to come in so he hides reader under his desk and reader teases him, sucks him off while hes tryin to stay calm? pls i love ur writin!

UNDER THE DESK

ft. mikey, ran, kokonoi

tw. fem!reader, m!oral, exhibtionsim, praise, dirty talk, teasing, slight voyeurism, dom!w/sub!reader

an. i hope you like babe! <3

❁ MIKEY

mikey shifts your body meekly in his lap, rough palms gripping at the fat on your legs while his tongue dips deeper in your mouth.

“pretty girl” he murmurs in your mouth, “keep rubbing your ass on me like that and you know what happens” he breathes heavy now, practically panting while your hips rolls harsher on his growing bulge.

he smiles through your lips when you drags across the ache of his cock, your clothed cunt forming a wet spot on him, mikey bares his needy side now, teeth colliding while he presses his face harder on you. he’s lost, the lingering thought of bending you over his office desk and splitting your cunt open in one swift motion but he jerks away the moment the door creaks open ceasing everything.

pink hair shuffles through the door, hanging his head low until he’s right in front of mikey’s desk finally dragging his head up to meet eyes with his boss.

“yes?” mikey spreads his legs further in the chair, leaning back till his hand supports his chin. “need your signature” sanzu waves a couple of papers near mikey, and squints his eyes when mikey just stares at him blankly.

“is that all you need?” mikey questions, and he’s so composed right now, his legs spread open just for your invitation and since he’s so inviting—you just can’t help yourself palming at his stiff hard bulge.

“you also have a meeting, i’ll walk with you” sanzu begins to sit in the chair seated in front of mikey, and that’s when you directly pull his cock out, so angry—dripping red at the tip and oozing a sticky substance, “oh god” mikey groans, shutting his eyes and gripping the top of your head.

“a-are you okay?” sanzu asks, worry masking his turquoise eyes, mikey clenches his jaw when you put his length in your warm mouth.

“i am f-fine” mikey utters, nails biting at the leather armchair when you begin bobbing your head, tongue swirling on the sensitive head.

mikey glances down at your eyes fluttering up to him, tears swelling in your eyes when you sink down to his stomach, nose brushing the skin. he narrows his eyes before raising his static orbs back to sanzu, “you can go now, give me five” mikey grits his teeth and sanzu simply nods his head before heading out, taking another peek at his boss before gliding out the door.

“i’m surprised you were even able to talk” you tease, slithering over mikey, grabbing his cock and pumping it, he groans deeper gripping your face and crashing his lips on yours.

“i’ll be surprised if you can even walk after this” he sputters through your lips, fingers hiking up your dress and slamming you down on his length. a moan rips from your throat while mikey hands claw at your back bouncing you on his length.

sanzu will have to wait a little more than five minutes while mikey fucks you, devours you and plays with you—just like you did under his desk.

❁ RAN

“your throat feels so fuckin’ good” ran moans, pushing your face harder on his length, he lays a hand gently under your chin guiding your lips up and down—the amount of drool drips past your lips, staining his pressed pants.

ran is supposed to be taking calls today, squeezing in clients and hassling deals but he’s a little busy right now—you’re kneeled between his legs, hands wrapped around his length while your lips attach around his sensitive head.

“ran why don’t you ever answer the fucking phone?” rindou yells, busting open the door to his office and plopping down. he spreads his legs making himself comfortable and ran quickly ushers you under the desk, but keeps a hand sternly on your head to keep you sucking him off.

“why don’t you ever know how to fucking knock?” ran chews on his inner cheek, cock throbbing inside your mouth at the action—mere deed of his brother unknowingly sitting in the same room as you keep bobbing your head.

rindou rolls his eyes, pulling out his phone to scroll mindlessly “why are you here?” ran questions, your nails dig into his thighs, focusing on the vein rounding his shaft and tongue guiding over it.

ran holds his fist over his mouth, sinking his teeth into the flesh, rindou cocks his eyebrow up at his brother before clearing his throat “bored” he murmurs.

ran rolls his eyes before knocking them down, your mouth works wonders on his cock, hollowing your cheeks and sucking him with such perfection, inhaling him dry.

he feels his core engulfing in flames, spark igniting at every suck, slurp your tongue, mouth even hands pull from his weeping cock. “fuck” ran groans, rindou darts his eyes up at his brother, deadpanning back when ran’s cheeks dust a pale pink.

rindou rises to his feet, the sounds of his shoes nipping against the floors—he heads towards the direction of the door before turning his head back “tell your girl i said hey, mouth so full probably won’t be able to say anything back” rindou chuckles before slamming the door.

ran throws his head back at the noise, rutting his cock down your throat till his seed coats your windpipe and it seeps through your lips. “look so pretty” ran coos, smearing the excess over your puffy mouth. and your thighs clench harder at his actions, the image of rindou knowing the entire time making your core throb.

❁ KOKONOI

kokonoi has been talking for what feels like hours, you had almost convinced him to lock his office door and fuck you against his wooden desk.

but mikey had to ruin it and kokonoi said it’s best if you hide under his desk—maybe he was wanting you to pull his pretty cock out at the chance he just gave you.

you can hear the litter of moans vibrate through his chest, kokonoi finds your head and grips against the scalp, and you can’t help but smile while your boyfriend continues the conversation as you take him in your mouth.

your hands come up to toy with his balls, length hardening with every slow drag of your tongue against the muscle, the slurs of words lay gently in your ear.

mikey has to know what is happening to him, but maybe he just doesn’t care as they continue their conversation, kokonoi tripping over his words and groaning subconsciously.

mikey grows silent before you hear soft murmurs of words and the door quietly closing, kokonoi pulls you to your feet, spinning you around and jerking your bottoms to your ankles “need you so fuckin’ bad” kokonoi whines, pushing his cock against your hole and sinking in with one harsh thrust.

his hands lay beside your hips while he pumps harder, cock scraping your gummy walls “sucked me off so good princess, gonna fill this pretty pussy up” kokonoi hips slam against your ass, his orgasm bubbling at the top.

lewd noises filter through the room as kokonoi pounds into your tight cunt harder and harder and mikey just can’t help himself as he presses his ear closer to the door, listening to your pretty moans and whimpers, pants tightening at every sound he craves.

tagging— @hertani

[writingwarden]

#24110

Locus x fem!Reader

TW: Drinking, Violence (punching), Harassment in a club

Word Count- 1539

Part 2

When on a job with the mercenaries a man decides to get handsy with reader. Locus doesn't like this and does something about it.

    Another nightclub, great. Where did Felix even find this place? We were here to meet with some drug lord. Apparently he had pissed off some powerful people and they wanted us to take care of it. They stressed the part where it had to be discreet. So Felix was posing as a potential client and me and Locus were stuck on the bar posing as a couple. Our part was to act as surveillance and wait for Felix to give us the signal that the job was done. All he had to do was get the guy by himself and kill him. Mason couldn’t make it, something about his wife wanting to visit her parents. Loser. A lucky loser but a loser nonetheless.

But back to us, sitting at the bar. Locus had ordered us drinks, getting a French 75 for himself and an espresso martini for me. Other than that he was acting very closed off and I was growing bored of trying to talk to him only for him to brush me off. 

Some couple we were being.

So I decided to try my luck on some poor soul. Maybe I can get lucky tonight. I will not deny that I am decently attractive, I don’t care if that sounds vain. I know my worth. I could probably pull most people I set my eyes on for the night, so why did my brain decide Locus [who was the definition of stoic] of all people, was the most attractive fucker on this planet. It’s not like he was my business partner or that he has gone out of his way to save my ass on a few missions. Or that he makes me feel safe and brings me food if he learns I haven’t eaten.  

No, Not at all.

And it's like the gods heard my thoughts because I feel a man slide up next to me. “What's a pretty thing like you doing here?” There's a slight slur in his voice. I look over and he’s mildly handsome. Not my usual type but I can make it work.  

“Oh you know, I wanted a little fun and decided here was the place to find it.” I made sure to look him up and down and bat my eyelashes. I heard a low grunt from Locus, probably telling me to knock it off and focus. 

“My name's Brandon but you can call me yours tonight.” he said as his eyes drifted down towards my chest. Men, they're so easy. I was about to respond when I heard Locus get up and begin to leave. It couldn’t have been Felix Because he was supposed to walk up to the other side of the bar and radio us. I not so secretly watched him as he walked towards the restrooms. This Brandon didn’t see as he was signaling the bartender. I couldn't hear what he ordered but the bartender poured two shots immediately. He handed one to me and I’m not about to turn down free drinks. So I knocked it back and smiled at him and he smiled back. I had realized there was something unnerving about it. We had barely talked and the vibe was just not right. Maybe he was just desperate for some and was playing it up. And I was bored so I let him talk. 

It wasn’t till he put his hand on my leg and tried to slide it up my thigh when I decided to stop him. “Look love, I’m not feeling the same spark you seem to be.” I say as I grab his hand and remove it. His face twists into a look of annoyance. Part of me was kind of wishing Locus would come back or Felix would finish before this could escalate. But I decided that I’m just gonna let this play out; although Locus would tear me a new one for causing a scene, Felix is gonna get a kick out of this one. 

“Oh come on sweetheart, you said you were looking for fun. Well, fun is right here.” he said, reaching for my leg again. I intercepted his hand before it could touch me and that's when he got angry. Grabbing at my shoulder hard he was borderline yelling as he said, “You have some audacity to come into my club and try to turn me down after I bought you drinks!” 

He started to say more when a black gloved hand grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him backwards forcefully. The hand belonged to none other than Locus and he looked pissed. 

“I suggest you rethink your actions before you speak to my girl here again.” 

His Girl? Oh I liked that.

“Well your girl is a whore” the fool spat out.

Well, that was the worst move possible.

Locus without a second's hesitation whirled him around and punched him right in the face. Now that was hot. Just after that I see Felix walking towards the bar, looking bewildered. The idiot was on the floor and I noticed a crowd had began to form so I grabbed Locus’s arm before he could swing again. “We should probably get out of here” I said as I motioned towards Felix who was still looking confused. 

Locus looked at me and then at the man on the ground and just sighed. Looking at Felix I began towards our exit. I waited in the car for a minute before they both came out of the club. The air was tense. Felix however decided to ignore that and relayed the details of what happened with the drug lord. The job itself was a success. Now all there was to do was to collect the money and move on to the next. 

Felix had found us a semi-nice hotel on the city edges a few hours earlier. Felix decided he wanted a separate room but neither me or Locus can sleep in a room by ourselves. Always needing backup just in case. So we parted with our goodnights and went to our rooms. He hadn’t spoken to me since the club and the silence was killing me. And then the most cliché thing happened, we got to the room and there was only one bed. Just great. This is what we get for letting that rat book our rooms. It seemed to be king size and there was a reclining chair next to the desk. We looked at each other, as if we were coming to some agreement. The bed was big enough to share and still have space.  So we stepped in and sat our bags down. 

Silently he headed straight for the bathroom with his night clothes and when he came back out I did the same. Digging through my bag I realized I had forgotten shorts out of all things. So I decided to grab a pair out of his bag. We shared clothes all the time so it's not like it will matter. I had just walked out when he spoke up.

“I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable.” Ah, so he hadn’t lost his voice.

Warring with myself I decided to just speak the truth and end this little dance. “Why would that have made me uncomfortable? Honestly it was kind of hot.” I said walking across the room to turn on the tv. When I got no reply I turned around to see Samuel Ortez, The Locus, one of the most feared mercenaries, blushing. His face was a dark crimson as he looked at me. Holy shit. That's cute. But why, I’ve always been blunt when it came to feelings. Especially when it came to flirting with him. 

“What is this? I mean, what do you want?” He said, gesturing to the space between us. It feels like I’m dreaming. He doesn’t do the whole feelings thing. This is so out of character but I’ll be damned if I let it slip away. 

Grinning, I began to walk to him. He leans back slightly and I take that chance to slide into his lap. He tenses up and I begin to think I’ve gone too far when he slowly sits his hands on my hips. Like he’s afraid I’ll shatter. If I wasn’t in love before I am most definitely now. Pulling his hand to my lips and kissing the now bruising knuckles. “I thought it was pretty clear on what I want,” I uncurl his hand and press it to my cheek, “I want you. All of you, even the most brutal parts.” 

He locks eyes with me, then looks down at my lips, then back at my eyes. I start to say he can when he just does it. His lips are surprisingly soft and I can still taste the liquor on him. I could kiss this man forever, I've decided. He pulled back for air and just looked at me. There was nothing to say because nothing had felt so right before. Just to be in each other's arms. Eventually I slid off him and he made a small noise of disapproval. 

“Relax, I’m just turning off the light.” I said, doing so while he got under the covers. Walking back to the bed he pulled me back into his arms. And that's how we stayed till morning.

[A/n- Very self indulgent brain rot]

[teacupcollector]

Rebel - Chapter 2

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Summary-  (Y/N) Is a Matt Murdocks 14 year old daughter who is just entering high school and is really struggling. She doesn't have a regular life having a blind father. He can't help with homework, Can't give her a have a ride to school, He can't see how often her face falls when she lies to him. Of course she has her Uncle Foggy and Aunt Karen but (Y/N) feels like to much of a burden until the one and only Frank Castle comes into her life and seems to be more of a father figure  then Matt ever was.

Your (E/C) eyes slowly open to the sun peeking through the curtains. The sound of cars and people going about their day is heard. You look over at your alarm clock to it reading 8:20 AM. 'Oh no... I slept in!' You suddenly sit straight up throwing the comforter off of you and dash to the open living and kitchen area, your eyes darting around. 

Your father Matt Murdock is no where to be seen and you let out a sigh. "Of course he is gone..." You grumble as you go into the bathroom and look in the mirror. Your (H/L) dark brown hair is sticking in all different directions, your eyes have bags under them, and you feel like death. You were never a morning person but you dealt with it for the slight chance you could get a few seconds to spend with your old man but of course he always seems to escape you. You pick up your tooth brush and run water on it then put tooth paste on it and run water over that. (There is no other way of brushing your teeth if you don't do exactly that you are a monster.) You had this routine. You would make breakfast, Then you would brush your teeth, take a shower, hang around in your room with the towel wrapped around you until you felt like getting dressed, then you would brush your hair and get ready for school. Since it is the weekend however you didn't feel the need to make breakfast. 'If dad stayed true to his word we might actually have donuts for breakfast.' The lazy train has just pulled into the station  as you threw on your favorite pair of clean pjs and walked out to the living room and sat on the couch. You sit there for a good few minutes until you feel to antsy to stay still and stand up again. You glance over at the small round table seeing the empty plate from last nights food your dad ate. You decide to pick it up and begin washing dishes... Which lead to sweeping... And then organizing... Which lead to cleaning the whole place.

             You were wiping down the coffee table when you hear the front door open. "(Y/N) I'm home!" Matt calls out from the front door. The smell of the beloved baked goods in his hand wafting through the air. "Hey daddio! Whatcha got there?" You say peeking your head around the corner to see your dad placing his cane against the wall with this left hand and holding the donuts in his right as he guides himself into the main living space. "Oh nothing really... Just the best breakfast ever!" He says holding up the box of donuts which you snatch out of his hand and make a mad dash over to the couch and set the delectable donuts down on the newly cleaned coffee table. "Thank you Thank you Thank you!" You say in excitement. "Oh come on (Y/N)... You dare steal from a blind man leave some for me." He says making his way over to the couch sitting next to you. "Fine, fine you can have some but the glazed and Strawberry filled ones are mine!" You says picking one up and taking a bite out of it savoring every bite. Matt chuckles. "Alright fine." He says as he starts eating his own.

           There is a small silence as you both finish your first donut. "So how is school going?" Your dad asks. "Its okay nothing to special going on... How is work?" You ask. "Work is work... you know how it is." He says taking a bite out of another donut. You scoff "Yeah totally."  You grumble glaring down at the donuts as you take another one and shove it in your mouth. Matt tips his head to the side slightly looking in your general direction. "Everything okay sweetpea?" He asks sounding very concerned at your tone. "Yeah everything is fine." You say as some crumbs fall from your mouth. "Just didn't get much sleep last night..." What you said wasn't a full lie, you didn't get to much sleep last night. "How is Uncle Foggy?" You asks changing the subject. "Did you guys crack any cases?" There is a smirk on your lips. "Foggy is fine (Y/N). And no we don't "Crack" cases." He says with a laugh. "Oh you know what I mean did you win any? Do you have any new ones? Give me the dets man!" You says scooting closer to him out of excitement. " (Y/N) you know I can't give you that type of information. Its classified. Client privacy." She sighs "Well you must have won something because you were out so late. You were probably with Aunt Karen and Uncle Foggy at Josie's partying it up." You say shutting the box of donuts seeming to have had your fill. " (Y/N) we don't party. That isn't our style you know that." Your dad seems to be getting antsy at all of the remarks you have been making. "No actually I wouldn't know because I'm not exactly allowed to be out of the apartment at night and I'm not allowed at Josie's either. You get to have all the fun." You say with a slightly annoyed  tone. "What is that suppose to mean (Y/N)? What I do for work isn't fun." He says sternly. "Uh huh yeah okay..." You stand up. 

                "What's up with this attitude all of the sudden?" Matt asks. "Nothing is up... I'm on my period!" You say maybe if you say something like that it will change the subject. "Okay okay okay I didn't need to know that... Look I'm sorry. I know you're stressed and so am I. How about you ask one of your friends to hang out and blow off some steam and then maybe later we can go for a walk in the park and go to that deli shop that you like so much or maybe the diner that we use to go to on Sundays after church. Would you like that?" He asks. "Yeah... That would be nice... Thanks dad." You say turning to him and he stands up. "Any time sweetpea" He give a small smile and opens his arms for a hug. You hug him. "I love you dad... And thanks for the donuts" You say with a smile. "Is that an "I love you dad" because of the donuts? Or what?" He asks with a laugh which in turn causes you to laugh as well. " Well you being my sweet treat supplier is a plus maybe you can add that to the "Awesome Dad" resume." You say letting go of him and he ruffles your hair. " Alright I will keep that in mind. You go ahead and call your friends and then tell me where you will be hanging out and for how long. If you still want to go out to eat I want you back by 1:30. What time is it now?" He asks. You quickly run to your room and grab your phone. "Its 10:45!" You shout from your room. "That's plenty of time to hang out with your friends. I hope you have fun! Now go call your friends!" He calls out and he grabs the donuts from the table and sets them on the counter.

           You dial your best friend Jenifer's number and on the second ring she answers. "Hey (Y/N)! Whats up!" Your friend sounds excited. " Nothing much. I was wondering if you would like to hang out. Maybe we can bring Abigail and we can go hang out in that ice cream shop or maybe go and hang out at the bridge like we use to or we can just walk around!" You say excited. "yeah that would be awesome! Where do you want to meet?" You look up slightly thinking "How about my street corner." You ask. "Alrighty I will see you there!" Jenifer says. "Alright bye!" You hang up then start getting dressed.

[kthynes]

the caller you have reached (chris evans x reader)

pairing: chris evans x fem!reader

summary: chris was trying to drunkenly call the woman he loved and wanted to get back with but instead he reaches you, a shrink.

warning: swearing (sailor level), brief mentions of mental health

**IMPORTANT disclaimer: I won't be dabbling into the hard hitting topics of mental health in this short only because I'm not a certified health professional and so I can't be providing a written, unbiased, often characterized diagnosis towards any sort of mental health disorder because really, those types of sensitivities need proper care and output. With that being said, I do want to emphasize the notions of seeking help and not being afraid to seek help when needed. It's hard, but we all fight a battle and no battle is big or small or better or worse.

If my followers or readers do feel the need to privately chat with me, I'm here and I can you lend you an ear. Otherwise let's be kind and uplift another while we can. No harm in doing good and being better, that's for sure!

-end rant-

This short is dedicated to the following lovelies:

@princess-evans-addict

@mrs-djokovic

@slut-for-chris-evans

@saltyflowermakertaco

@bitchyslut99

@patzammit

@itskikiyooo

@maximeevansblog

Being a working adult is dreadful but the work you do is the most fulfilling kind of anarchy. You are a therapist, you work to heal and you work together with people who willingly reach out to you and your facility of care. There is that balance, the altering nuances in between that allows you to do what you do best. You advocate for good prosperity of mental health and accolade of teachable moments that fosters a safe space for your clients, not patients, but the people who deserve to be heard and not be medically categorized.

Your salubrious passion keeps you grounded. In your lifetime, you've seen the imperial impacts of poor mental health and it has been a detrimental drive in how you retreat and give back to a small found community.

"Okay." You exhale to yourself while leafing through another client chart. You're working off the clock, stuck in the renaissance of your homey office space while the outside world turns pitch black.

In the appropriate fields you jot down important takeaways from your last sit in session with heavy concertation and reasoning, you try to congregate a treatment plan all before you cellphone cries for you in venturous fashion.

"Hello?" You answer without checking the caller ID, tucking the device between your ear and shoulder so that way you could work and talk.

"Jenny!" The man boisterously shouts. "Jenny baby please talk to me! Let me make it up to you, let's just do this right, please. I'm fucked up here."

"I'm sorry but you have the wrong number." You infringe sounding like the posh, automated answering machine lady.

"Oh what the fuck Jenny — oh cah'mon don't do that, don't be like that baby." You re-verify a local number and it doesn't belong to anyone you know of. So you wonder who this man is but choose not to press further instead you tell him what is right from the knowing wrong.

"I'm not Jenny."

"Seriously?" He yells, forcing you to hold the phone away from your ear. "That can't be... This is—" He recites the number that is similar to yours but the last two digits are off.

"You got 42, not 53." It's an easy mistake to recall, a swipe of a drunken thumb could've mixed that up, so this time around, you're forgiving. Not that it happens often.

"Oh no. That's—" The mystery man trails, something about his voice discerns you, it's familiar but in a hindbrain way that you can't put a finger on. "Fuuuuuuuck."

"Wait hold on, hold up, is this Jenny's assistant, Nina?" You exhale sharply sometimes it takes more than one try and a side of convincing to get your point across and your passiveness was certainly to blame.

"No I'm not her assistant either."

"Then who the hell are you?" He exasperates. You make the snide mistake of telling him your name and he buffers for a bit.

"Oh. So you really aren't anyone of my concern then?"

"No." You mildly retort. "I wouldn't want to be anyways."

"Okay well I'm not sorry then because I'm here trying to reach my girlfriend and I can't get to her because I have you on the line being a smartass." With that accent of his you can tell he's a patriotic Bostonian. One of your own kind and that furloughs your need to engage in this mindless drivel, it wouldn't get you or him anywhere. At least that's what you tell yourself before shutting him down.

"Well then maybe you should learn to listen first, how about that?" You snap, dropping your pen before you note down angry nonsense into your actual work.

"Hey nowwww!" He yells as if he's trying to be Hank Kinsley.

"It's clear that you're drunk."

He brushes you off on the other end, enigmatic in what he wants you to know. "This is Chris Evans, you're talking to Chris-motherfucking-Evans, you hear?"

"I do now." You say tersely.

"Good." He huffs. "Good... Cause you know I'm in the middle of bumfuck nowhere and this is what I get. This is what I seemingly deserve, god you women I swear..."

Your face changes. You don't agree to be a lending ear but somehow Chris forces you to hear him out.

"I told her Y/N. I TOLD her that I wasn't ready to take the next step but that doesn't mean that I don't want to be with her. And now she throws it back in my face by getting with some other guy she once dated back in high school. And somehow, I'm supposed to be ok with it and move on, as she tells me. How the hell am I supposed to do that, huh?"

"I, um, I don't know what to tell you." You sigh somberly.

"Of course you don't!" His Boston twang begins to nerve you as there some remitting frequency of it. Hearing him obnoxiously go off, reminds you of all your shrewd New England exes who were his exact counterpart when soused. A ludicrous memory that you relive again with time and perfect harmony.

"Listen lady all I'm saying is that I fucked up. I know I did alright? I mean it doesn't take much denominational math and the plot of Lost in Translation to get that. I get it!"

Jesus. You whisper the lords name in vain as you lean your forehead against the palm of your hand while your elbow rested on top of the desk.

"So, let me get this straight, you think yelling at a random woman will help get further?" You question a little acutely for his liking.

"I don't know but it sure as hell takes off the heat, sweetheart." Something about a man calling you sweetheart grinds your gears and now your molars.

"Okay, alright, let's talk." You begin, sitting up a bit and tearing out a blank page from your memo pad; you were doing a late night consultation, a small hash out.

"Schuwaaaaa." Chris enunciates the word sure and to much of his mayhem, he’s sprawled out on the curbside, somewhere in the nowhere land of L.A. He contented but also upset and you were simply crashing his little pity party.

"What is it that you want from Jenny?" You professionally prod. "How about we start there."

"Wooooah, what is that we're doing here?” Chris gets mildly defensive with you. “I dunno you like that. If we're gonna talk then you'll have to get through my publicist first because right now I plead the fifth.”

You exhale a deep and fulsome breath. No one troubles you like him. It's sanctimoniously unnerving.

"I'm a shrink, my job isn’t meant to incriminate my clients well-being, or anyone else’s for that matter.” You address calmly. “So, if you do require some solicited advice then we can keep this call under strict confidence. You have my word, Mr. Evans and the paperwork that will follow shortly after this call.”

Silence. There is some shocking silence which is brief before you're catapulted with disbelief and more cackles. "Holy mother fucking shit. You're kidding me?"

"I can run you by my credentials if you’d like?” You mention stiffly.

"God I’ve reached a cuckoo hotline!" Wrong. That's a horrible thing to say and you'd think a man like him would've been more sensitive about his choice of words, inebriated or not.

"Far from it."

"Tell me something, alright? How many grown, adult men come crying to you?" Chris is edging with curiosity even though his eyes are betrayingly reddened after crying into a bottle of Dewars 18. He doesn't make that known to you and you never cared to ask.

"Enough to know that they cry." You simply state.

"Huh. So this is just another Tuesday for you then.” Chris scoff, the bottle making it to his lips and then swishing back down again.

"Comes with the territory except I don't tolerate drunkenness." You motely add. "Can you keep the bottle aside for the time being? Just until we're done here."

"That's understandable and oh yeah sure, sure, I won't touch it." You can hear the glass bottle 'clink' when coming into contact with the pavement.

"Now tell me about Jenny." You softly inquire.

"What do you wanna know? How we fuck or how we met?" Chris giggles like a naughty school yard boy.

"How did you two meet?" You slam the words urgently, nearly spelling out the cause.

"Oh! Oh. We met on the job." Chris chuckles punitively.

"Okay and did you guys connect instantly or was there a slow build up?" You involuntarily took notes for any PR rep of his that wanted solid evidence that would preside this call, cover your bases and your poor ass along with it.

"Instantly. Our chemistry read was off the charts." He explains with a slight hiccup. "Sorry."

"Great. So it was more so a work relationship that later grew into something more correct?"

"Pretty much."

"So when did you start developing feelings for her?"

"Um I'd say..." Chris tucks his chin, burps and then excuses himself before continuing. "Just before we wrapped up filming. But then I think somewhere in between all that I realized that she was my kind of girl, my... better half."

"And what made you come to that realization?"

"Well for one she has this infectious laugh that would have you laughing with her, there's that sound of beauty and pureness to it. And then with that, there were all the little things she'd do for me that made me think, like damn she's the one, she's it for me and that for better or for worse, I'd need her more than she'd ever need me."

Chris gets sad and you feel for him. Your pen stops moving when you were about to prescribe him some mind memory exercises. He was human. Humans hurt. Humans make mistakes. Humans stray but they also love. That's all Chris did. He loved with all of his heart to not expect the same love in return.

"You know Chris, we don't always get the love we deserve and sometimes its sucks. Sometimes you wanna kick it back with a bottle of Dewars 18 and shake your fists in the air." Chris quietly perks up at your choice of alcohol that you didn't know he was forcefully downing. He fashions a small half smile that you don't see but hear faintly. "But there's also a time and a place and things happen, people come apart, people get together, people do people and there's that fine line of letting life run its uneven course."

"I mean you sometimes have to not be okay to be okay again and I know that from my many years of helpful healing. It gets okay, never fully better and I think that's just how it is. You acknowledge your pain, your trauma and then you go on while being mindful of that transition."

"Wow."

"Hey, um, look, I actually have to get going. But if you can, just down the rest of that bottle and get yourself home."

"Are you sure?" Chris gawks.

"I mean you were already halfway through and it's not like I can physically stop you, right? And besides this is what I'm prescribing to you. I want you to acknowledge your pain, drink away your sorrows and then smash that bottle so you can be relieved from that trauma and hurt. After that you need to fix up and start new, have a mature conversation with her, if you can and then have your feet hitting the ground again. Don't fall into the routine of heartbreak even if it becomes too hard, you hear me?"

"Loud and clear."

"Good." You sniff and start to put things away. "I know you're a good guy Chris, from how you are on TV and in interviews, I'm amazed by how articulate you are. You have the right mindset so I have no doubts that you'll fall back in any way. But if you do, please don't hesitate to reach out, I might have to hand you off to another cohort but nonetheless it can be worked out even if it does feel like you might be sparring on your own. You'll get the help you need."

"Great, thanks." Chris responds in his conscious state of thought. He feels pathetic with himself and that doesn't have you galling over the fact, instead you let him be.

"Do you need me to order you an Uber? Cab? Call a friend for ya?" You laugh easily and Chris hears it clearly, smiling in return.

"An Uber would be nice. I'll try to share you my location."

"Sure, on me and that'd be great."

"Thanks."

"No problem... And your ride should be here in two minutes, just look out for Raul in black Elantra." You inform him after checking your phone.

"Nice."

"You have a goodnight now Chris."

"You too." The line cuts and you're given a piece of your life back. You gather your belongings, flip off the light switch and make your way home. There's some truth and some brokenness in every situation. You knew Chris was going to be OK even if he didn't consult you afterwards. For you, there was no need. He's a smart man and he proves this over a prolonged period of time when he finally finds himself back on the market and then eventually in a relationship with a faceless and very loving woman from his own hometown.

He was finally happy, making you serendipitously glad that you were the caller he had reached.

[keigelsss]

Hard At Work - Kuroo Tetsuro

a/n: HERE IT IS!!!!! it’s really bad. i struggled. i just wanted to get it over with but this idea weighed heavily on my mind for so long and i cant seem to get it out the way i want so this is the bare minimum with what i was trying to go for sorry :/

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, timeskip!kuroo, dom!kuroo, language, teasing, literally half the fic is foreplay oops, smut, oral sex, unprotected sex (no glove no love y’all), kuroo smacks your ass once, sir kink?, SIZE KINK, belly bulge, overstim, squirting, creampie, as always my shitty writing. *thoughts in italics… if i forgot a warning pls lmk*

Summary: you never thought you’d find yourself in this situation, let alone with the man in charge of your paycheck. luckily those files weren’t that important.

word count: 4.7K

You’ve only been working in this position for about two months now, assistant to one of the smartest sports promoters in the country. It’s a wonderful job and you get to meet star athletes almost every day, but what wasn't in the job description was the super hot promoter that you would be working under literally. If you thought it was hard coming into work with someone so damn attractive, the amount of teasing that went on in and outside of the office was insufferable.

Your day began like every other; come in, bring Kuroo some coffee, a full list of the day's meetings and tidy up in his office. While setting the coffee on his desk, you anticipate what comment he’ll make about the lack of a baked good to accompany his beverage.

“Awe Y/n, looks like you forgot to bring something to munch on again,” he was currently going through emails while twirling a pen in his hand. That scheming smirk that you’ve come to recognize all too well plastered all over his smug face. 

“I’m sorry, Kuroo, they were all out at the café.” You placed your belongings on the small desk located in the corner of his office, spending some time to go over today's schedule as well as sort through a few contracts and client files.

“It’s all good,” he let out a soft chuckle. “You could always let me eat you instead, shortcake.”

You gave a pointed glare to the man before sighing and closing the file cabinet you just finished sorting. “I think it’s best if we get to work, we’ve got a long day ahead of us, sir.” he sends the smallest smirk in your direction then returns to his tasks. Shit... Did I mean to make it come out like that? Whatever he always teases the ever-living hell out of me so it's about time I had my share of the fun too, it’s only fair. Right?

Most of the day was uneventful, the typical routine coming and going without any interruptions. At around 4 pm though, you found yourself swamped with far more paperwork to go through than usual as well as having to scan and digitally file. We didn't have this many meetings today, did we? I just did a stack like this… Most of these need Kuroo’s signature, they shouldn't be on my desk.

Raising your head you shifted your gaze, letting your eyes land on him. He’s seated only ten feet in front of you behind his desk but today it seems like an entire mile. Did he always look that good going through his messages?

While gathering the papers that were wrongfully in your pile and saying a quick prayer to anyone out there, you walked over to sit in one of the matching seats opposite him. Placing the folder down softly to not mess up the flow of his work. He instinctively moves his elbow away to make room for the file and side-eyes it momentarily.

“Just give me two minutes here and I’m all yours sugar,” he says with a quick smile in your direction.

Humming your response and relaxing into the chair you take the time to admire his features. The messy but somehow put together hair that, according to his long-term clients and friends, has been that way since childhood. The sharp features of his cheeks and jaw, his pink lips permanently resting in his signature smirk that can mean an infinite number of things as you’ve come to find out. A muscular neck that is far too appealing for your taste, broad shoulders leading to strong arms, and an equally muscular chest. It’s no doubt that he is built like a god under that dress shirt, it fits him so perfectly it's almost offensive.

You’re so caught up in your thoughts of the man in front of you that you don't even notice how he moves his body, giving all his attention to you.

“Stare any longer sweet girl and you're gonna start drooling all over that cute outfit of yours.” His deep chuckle vibrates through you, definitely causing something to happen deep in the pit of your stomach. Your body was so hot and your throat was so damn dry from the way he was looking back at you. Is he undressing me with his eyes? Fuck! I’m one to talk, I’m doing the same thing.

“Uh it looks like some papers of yours got in my pile, if you can sign them, I’ll finish scanning and get out of your hair.” 

You sat up to hand him a pen then rest your palms against the desk. Those pieces of paper are the only thing separating the two of you and it helps you keep a grasp on reality for the time being.

He toyed with the edges of the folder, lifting just the corner, not even bothering to read over the contents. “Yeah, I put them there thinking it would keep you in the office just a bit longer but you caught on to my plan faster than I thought.” He met your gaze with a semi defeated smile.

“You thought I wouldn't notice at all? Kuroo, I thought you were supposed to be the mega genius here because I had just filed all of those this morning.” A sudden boost of confidence ran through your body and your hands found their way to the folder and started mimicking his previous action that, hopefully, would drive him just as crazy as it did you. Your cold fingers delicately traced above his watch then to his forearms, stopping right where he cuffed his sleeves. A small hiss escaped him through his teeth followed by an airy laugh.

“Call it an experiment.” You couldn't help but giggle at his response.

He suddenly moved back, completely reclining and relaxing in his chair. He went to loosen up the tie around his neck and even went as far as to open two buttons on the restricting shirt. Cheeky bastard.

Kuroo cleared his throat. Resting his elbow against the arm of his chair, chin resting in the palm of his hand. “I bet I can tell what you're thinking right now, shortcake,” he continued to roll his chair back slightly.

Without giving a second thought you moved around to his side of the desk, sitting and leaning on the end farthest from him. You conjured up the best comeback your normally shy and reserved self would never think of, but right now, it's war.

“Oya oya? Tell me, boss, what am I thinking right now?” you finally turned your gaze towards him, pulling off the most convincing innocent eyes you had.

He stood up from his seat, taking the slowest steps toward you and stood right beside your small body. His large hands are dangerously close to the edge of your skirt. If he could feel how hard your heart was beating in your chest you’d be done for. 

That contagious laughter of his booming throughout the room once more. He’ll never admit it but your teasing words sound a lot like him.

“Well if the way you're clenching the hell out of your thighs right now isn't the biggest sign.” His calloused fingers finally make contact with the exposed skin on your legs and slowly rise to trace the curves of your body. Finding a place to rest on your jaw with his thumb gripping your chin forcing you to look directly at him. “I’d say you're thinking of all the different ways I could make you cum on my desk,” his thumb began to slowly trace your lower lip.

You were barely aware of the small moan you let out while fluttering your eyes closed. “Let's say you're right Kuroo,” you nearly choked on the lack of saliva in your throat. “What else am I thinking?” your response barely above a pathetic whimper.

He let out a happy sigh as he placed his thumb between your lips, pressing slightly to signal you to open up. That sigh quickly turned into a small moan when you let your tongue slip from your mouth and wrapped your lips around the digit. Years of hard work and skill evident in the sensation of his thumb pressing against your tongue.

“You’re probably thinking about my cock filling every inch of your tight little pussy,” he moved to stand between your legs, his other hand finding residence on your hip and squeezing the clothed flesh possessively. “Or maybe you’re thinking you might just have the upper hand here because you caught on to my little trick,” he began to mess with the hook and zipper on the side of your skirt. Lowering the piece of flimsy metal agonizingly slow. 

“If that’s the case then you're seriously mistaken sweetheart also when it's just us, call me Tetsuro,” he whispered his name in your ear and if you weren't trying to match his teasing energy, you would’ve made the first move but the build-up was so much better.

He finally let go of the zipper on your skirt and began to pull it slowly down your thighs, all while maintaining eye contact. He slowly removed his finger from your mouth and trailed any lingering saliva along your bottom lip and down your jaw before his hand found comfort around your neck, offering the softest squeeze, eliciting yet another breathy moan from your lips. If only you knew how much those sounds of yours were causing him to short circuit.

“Tetsuro. If there’s anything I know very well, it's my place in this office.” You kept steady eye contact while attempting to squeeze your thighs together. 

Kuroo noticed your struggles and continued to strip the skirt from your body. Your lower half was beginning to burn with anticipation. His long fingers then traced the outline of your panties, if he looked any closer he would see the little wet spot forming right at your entrance. He lightly pulled on the thin material and snapped it back against your body, a small chuckle rising from deep in his chest because of how cute and responsive you are to his actions.

“And where is that exactly?” He can't help but tease you, even though his cock is absolutely suffocating, he still wants to make sure you know who’s in charge. 

“I'm an employee on your payroll, aren't I?” your voice was so soft, focusing more on steadying your breathing. He began to run the back of his hand along your hip and grazed his knuckles against the area that you ache for him the most, a throaty sigh escapes you and some of that newfound confidence as well. Where the hell did she come from?

“It only makes sense that my position is under you.” Kuroo is slightly surprised by your response but he can tell that you’ve had enough of his teasing just like he’s had enough of having to come up with new ways to fluster you. Now it seems that all his prayers are being answered, he finally has you to himself all alone in the office, and there’s only one thing on his mind after hearing the words slip from your lips. “That’s definitely the right answer, but I hope you don’t mind if I spend some time on you first?”

His fingers were now pulling the fabric of your panties down and off your body, he never breaks eye contact, rubbing his hands all over your legs and occasionally squeezing your soft skin. He finally returned to eye level and placed both hands on your cheeks, bringing you in for a hot and desperate kiss. He managed to push you further onto the desk so you can rest comfortably, the cold sensation of the wood on your bare skin forced a tiny gasp to escape. 

Kuroo began to play with the buttons of your blouse, pulling on the material. By the time he gets to the last button, you’re halfway done removing his, finally seeing the strong body underneath it all. Hot. Once he had you completely undressed he took a single step back. Biting his lip and admiring your body.

“You’re so god damn sexy.” He came back to you, hot mouth leaving kisses all over your neck and chest. He spent some time on each of your breasts, sucking and biting on your sensitive nipples, sending waves of pleasure straight to your core. His hands hooked under your knees and spread your legs. You're practically dripping onto his desk by now and can’t help but grind your hips against nothing, desperate for some sort of relief. 

“Someone's a little needy, huh?” his breath was hot against your stomach and fingers digging into the meat of your thigh. Once he got on his knees in front of you, his fingers found their way to your throbbing center. Slowly parting your folds and massaging your sensitive hole with perfect pressure. “Fuck. You’re so fuckin’ wet too,” with his other hand he used his thumb to play with your clit. You threw your head back, letting out a soft moan as you made contact with the desk below.

Kuroo wasted no time putting your legs over his shoulders, leaving wet kisses along your thighs and placing several on your hips. He finally placed a kiss on your clit, causing you to yelp and buck your hips against his face. “You taste better than I imagined baby girl,” he licked a stripe through your folds, then sucked on your clit softly. “Mmm it feels so good!” you’re a moaning, whimpering mess already. Kuroo has to use his hands to keep you still but he’s humming happily while lapping up all you have to offer him and you can't help but shake. “Am I making you feel good, pretty girl? Your cute little pussy is so sensitive huh?” his tongue was replaced with one of his fingers gathering up your slick and slowly entering you.

“Yes yes fuck I love it. I want your cock. Please.” you looked at him through lidded eyes sucking your bottom lip harshly in between your teeth. He can't help but smile at how cute you look begging for him. “Relax baby girl, we’ll both get what we want but I gotta work you up a bit more.” He added another finger curling them a little to find your sweet spot, while sucking on your clit. He knew he found it when you squeezed your thighs around him and called out his name. Your walls twitching around his fingers, reaching your first climax of the day. 

He pulled his fingers out of you and brought them to his mouth, sucking off every bit of your juices, moaning in sheer delight. Another kiss was placed on your clit before he began a trail of them to your neck and jaw, teeth sinking into your skin. One of his hands caressed your cheek as he kissed you on the lips, your taste and his hot breath sending another wave of arousal through you and you moan into his mouth. He pulls away and rests his forehead against yours. “Wanna make you cum with my tongue one more time okay sweetheart?”

You wanted to whine and throw a fit but his mouth was magical and you weren't one to complain. With a small ‘okay’ and another kiss on the lips he made his way to your pussy once more, already swollen and ridiculously sensitive. He began with the same rhythm as before, soft groans of satisfaction driving you wild. The grinding of your hips against his face only became more violent when he added his long fingers. Finding that same spot as earlier. 

“F-fuck oh fuck I’m gonna cum!” you arched your back off the desk and brought a hand to your chest massaging squeezing your nipples. The only thing you hear before your orgasm rips through you is the loud squelching of fingers inside your pussy and his moans of praise. When you open your eyes and finally come back to earth, you see Kuroos face, hand and wrist covered in your juices. “I haven't even fucked you yet and you squirted just like that? You're gonna be the death of me Y/n.” 

You giggled a little, hiding your face in embarrassment, body still trembling from the intense orgasm. Of course that smart mouth of his is sinfully skilled. He moved your hands out of the way, intertwining his with yours, lifting you and pulling you into another kiss. 

You let go of his hands running yours along his toned chest, leaving small scratches, quickly removing his belt and slacks. You squeal at how big he looks in his boxers, his cock begging to be free. Pulling the waistband down and letting it drop to his feet, you moan at the sight. A small bead of precum forming at the tip, now an angry red from being neglected for so long. “I wanna make you feel good too Tetsu.” 

Before you can drop to your knees for him he puts his hands on your hips, rubbing soothing circles. “Next time gorgeous, I wanna feel you right now.” he lifted you off the ground, legs wrapping around his waist and lips meeting in a sloppy mess of teeth and tongue. One of his hands made their way to your ass, squeezing softly before landing a smack. You moaned in response and ground your hips against his throbbing member, the tip creating glorious friction against your folds. He finally placed you back on the desk then fisted his cock a few times, running the tip against your folds and teasing your entrance.

“Want you inside me now Tetsuro. Please.” your chest was heaving in desperation and he loved that he made you like this. “Okay sweet girl. If it’s too much let me know.” You gave him a small nod and he kissed you while letting himself slip inside your warm walls. You were already so wet from before but he was so long and thick that the intrusion was slightly painful. 

“Holy shit! you’re so damn tight.” he says through gritted teeth. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, fingers tugging softly on his hair when you feel him bottom out inside you. He lets out a few puffs of air because it's taking all his willpower not to cum with the way your pussy is gripping onto him right now. You let out a few whimpers and he checks your face for any signs of discomfort before retracting his hips and thrusting into you. You make eye contact with him, he’s absolutely mesmerizing with that lusty look in his eye and a small layer of sweat on his forehead. 

“S-so big Tetsu. It feels so good.” you squeeze your legs wrapped around his waist, bringing him closer to you and he groans in response. He begins to thrust into you slowly, still trying to keep his cool but finding that sweet spot inside you every time. “Oh you're gonna make me cum with the way you are clampin’ down on my cock like that sweet thing.” he shifts the angle of his thrusts and cages your head between his arms. His large upper body casting a shadow over you that makes you shiver. You can see the way the muscles on his forearms and biceps are flexing with every thrust. How he’s looking down at where you two are connected in pure fascination, tugging his lip between his teeth.

Using his arms to push off the desk, he tugs your hips to the edge and keeps his fingers embedded in the soft flesh, meeting each of his thrusts. You lift yourself as well, resting on your elbows and watching him. You notice a small bump on your belly each time his hips meet yours and it's enough to have you roll your eyes back. Holy fuck now that’s different. Kuroo noticed your surprise and pressed a hand against your tummy, making you feel him even deeper if possible. 

“I’m right there baby girl. Can you feel it?” You feel as though you're being split open but it hurts so good. His stare and dominating aura so sinful and addictive, you know you're in trouble. “Yes it feels so good. I love your cock.” He feels you fluttering around him and picks up his pace. The sharp sound of skin slapping echoes throughout the office along with his animalistic growls. 

“Is that right. You gonna cum on this cock, like a good girl?” his thumb found your clit, working small circles. “Make a mess all over my desk? Let me cum inside this tight pussy?” his thrusts were reaching deep, that bulge in your tummy only looking bigger now. You tried meeting his thrusts halfway, your hand gripped his wrist and you neared another orgasm. “Y-yeah, oh fuck. please. I wanna cum so bad. wanna make you feel good too, sir.” 

At the last word you said he thrusted into you once more. your walls fluttering around him bringing his release as well, he hunched over with a groan and found your lips as he spilled his seed inside you. The warmth filling you up and making you feel nothing but bliss. Your ankles locked around his waist, heels digging into his lower back, keeping him buried inside you while you caught your breath’s. 

He pulled away first, watching as his cock slipped from your tight hole, both of you letting out a sharp breath from the sensitivity. His cum followed right after, dripping down onto his desk. The sight of your clenching pussy and the mess was enough to get him hard again. He wants as much as you’re willing to give him. Lifting your upper body he pulls you in for another kiss, this one a bit sweeter. 

You pulled away and began kissing his jaw. “I want more.” You said looking up at him with bright eyes. Your makeup is messy but you still look delicious as ever. 

He gave you a playful grin and a peck on the lips. “You read my mind gorgeous.” 

He spun you around and bent you over the desk, pressing your body into the wood but not enough to hurt. His fingers slowly ran down your spine, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You turn your head slightly so you can see him, right now he looks intimidating as ever. Large muscular body towering over you, one hand gripping your ass and the other teasing the head of his cock along your folds. He can see how your dripping hole is clenching around nothing, your frame trembling from previous orgasms. He's so damn overjoyed that he slips right inside you, not wanting to waste another second outside of your tight pussy. 

The stretch that he provided was nothing you've felt before, he was definitely the biggest you’ve been with. You felt every ridge and vein, every twitch, you still feel him in your stomach. Nothing beat how warm he is though, flooding every nerve with heat and electricity. 

He set a brutal pace, balls slapping against your clit each time, making you cry out and moan incoherent versions of his name. His left hand gripped your thigh and hitched your leg on the desk, the shift in position causing him to drag the tip of his cock perfectly against your g-spot. “Right there Tetsuro, feels so fucking good.” you ached your back in ecstasy. 

The hand he had hooked under your knee creeped up your thigh and rested on your hip. He used the other to raise you off the desk and wrap around you. His warm hard chest pressing into your back and his large, rough palms massaged your tits. You can feel his warm breath on your ear and you shiver when he groans. The deep rumble of his chest crashing into you like a wave. 

Hearing his moans right in your ear was like heaven, the feeling of his cock twitching inside tells you he's close. “Oh fuck I’m gonna cum so fuckin’ hard. Your little cunt’s squeezing me so fuckin’ tight. You gonna be a good girl and let me cum inside again?” his rough pounding turned into slow, deep strokes. Slamming into your sweet spot with pin-point accuracy.

“Please. Feels so good and I want your cum. Want it in me so bad.” his hand moved to your jaw turning your head, squishing your cheeks and leaving a sloppy kiss against your lips. You brought your arm up, grabbing his face, pulling him closer. You sucked his bottom lip between your teeth and he growled in response, slow thrusts gaining some more speed.

The hand he had on your hip made its way in front of you, fingers trailing softly against your swollen clit. Tears were pricking the corners of your eyes from overstimulation but you loved every second of it. “I want you to milk my cock, take all your filling like a good little shortcake and make a mess on this desk. Can you do that for me?” you only nod and moan your answer.

The intense eye contact between the two of you, mixed with his hard thrusts and rough fingers, make that tingling feeling in your core seem like the first one all over again. Your head falls back against his chest as your body locks up and shakes uncontrollably, the tight fluttering of your walls brought his release as well. 

You can feel his warm load inside as he keeps fucking into you, allowing you both to ride out the intense wave of pleasure. All while massaging your clit, only bringing on another orgasm, making you squirt once more on his hand and desk. Feeling it drip down your legs, surely his too. 

Once the rush of euphoria passed, you both fell forward, his cock still inside you as you both caught your breath. You were still quivering with aftershocks of pleasure when he slipped out of you, a mixture of both of your cum spilling onto the floor and down your thighs. 

He stumbled back onto his chair and took a deep breath. Hypnotized by the way you’re still spread out for him to see, the beautiful sight of your plump ass becoming something he wants all the time. You finally sit up slowly turning to lean against the desk, legs feeling like noodles. Both of you catching the other staring and letting out a fit of laughter. He reached for your hand and pulled you down on the chair with him to relax, wrapping his strong arms around you. 

“So, I was thinking, maybe I should give you a promotion.” he kissed the top of your head and you pinched his nipple teasingly. “Stop fucking around Tetsu.” he smirked and gave you a knowing smirk. 

“We just did, sweet heart.” you rolled your eyes and nuzzled into his neck. 

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

After resting for a while the two of you got cleaned up and dressed, tidying up the office so it didn't look like two people just fucked in it. Once you were done you both stood and looked out the window of his office, watching the sun disappear and the stars start to shine. He made a sound like he just remembered something. 

“Do you wanna go out to get something to eat?” he looks at you while putting his coat on.

“I’d love to, I’m starving,” you grabbed your purse and put on your coat as well. “Oh, uh what time is it?” you ask him. 

He lifted the sleeve of his jacket, looking at his watch and raising a brow. “That’s weird. My watch is stuck at 4:45.” you look at him in confusion. 

A sudden burst of wheezing laughter echoes through the walls and you’re still wondering what’s so funny. He turns to you and looks at your face, melting at how cute and innocent you looked. 

“I think you ruined my watch, Y/n.” he brings a hand up to your face moving a piece of hair that was out of place. You can't help but blush at his words, instantly turning away from him and opening the doors to his office.

“Well we’re even now because you ruined any other man for me.” You walked ahead of him in annoyance but he knows it won't last long.

He’ll have you screaming his name again in his bed in no time. 

I wonder if he was joking about that promotion though…

———————————————————————

✨stay sexy my friends✨

Taglist: @bobabybo

a/n: if you made it this far... yooo... im so sorry you had to read this. it didn’t tickle the brain the way i wanted and i trashed it like ten times only to go back with what i originally started with but if you liked it and you feel a lil sum ;) lmk i would love feedback or what I could’ve done better. i don’t know what I want to do with this blog just yet but for now its just my thirsts and writings. i reply and like on @keigohoes im just stupid lol.

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Promotion: Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader

synopsis: You don't ever make it to the convention. At all.

wc: 2.4k

tw: NSFW

masterlist

"Hey, y/n, are you coming out to lunch with us?" You turn your chair around to face your co-workers, all of them gathering their things to leave for the day. A half-day, right.

You'd completely forgotten about the half-day your boss offered as a reward for meeting every single editing deadline for a month straight. And now you were knee-deep in a manuscript, your mind completely focused on the task on the computer in front of you.

"I think I'll stay here and work on this for a little while. You all enjoy yourselves!" Your co-workers wave goodbye, chattering about their weekend plans as you turn back around, shifting the feedback sheet from your desk and onto the printer.

You dive back into your work - frowning as you come across a massive plot hole - the door to your boss's office flies open. You jump a little, startled by the sudden movement, and watch Nanami Kento adjust his clear frames before sliding them back on his handsome face.

"Y/n, could I speak to you for a moment? I'm sorry to interrupt your workflow, but this is urgent," he begins, and you stand from your desk, saving the work you've done before walking into his office. As you take a seat in the only other chair in the room, you cross your legs at the ankle, waiting for Nanami to take his place at his desk.

"Did you not want to take the half-day?" The blonde man wonders, sitting in his chair and unbuttoning his jacket.

"No, I really want to get as much work done as possible before the weekend."

"Big plans?" His brow lifts, and you inhale sharply, wondering what he's implying.

"No," you admit, looking down at your fingers and feeling your cheeks heat up. "I like to rest on my days off, is all."

"I won't keep you long, then. One of our managing editors - Hisoka - is leaving at the end of next week. You've been working very hard on making sure manuscripts are done right, clients are satisfied, and book deals go smoothly that I was wondering if you'd be willing to accept her position and her spot at the conference next week." A promotion? And a spot a the Editor's Conference?

"Sir, I'm flattered by your consideration--"

"Then it's done. I'll send over the paperwork on Monday morning, and I'll make sure you're settled in your new position by Friday." Nanami begins typing at his computer, and you stare at him, open-mouthed. "What's wrong?"

"I mean, this is all so sudden, I..." you trail off as Nanami frowns at you, his confusion evident. "Thank you, sir."

"You're the most qualified for the position, so I think you'll do just fine." He smiles as you stand to leave, giving him a slight bow.

"I'll do my best."

_____________________________________________________________

You shift nervously as the taxi takes both you and your boss from the train station to your hotel, where you hope the assistant booked you a decent room so you can get some rest before the big day tomorrow. Nanami is checking his phone, reading through emails before the taxi stops, letting you both out on the sidewalk in front of the ritzy hotel in the moonlight.

"I'll check-in for both of us," Nanami murmurs, and you go to sit in the lobby area while he speaks with the receptionist. Before long, you can hear a slight disagreement break out, and you turn your head to watch your boss approach you slowly, head bowed a little.

"What's wrong?" you wonder, clutching your bag close.

"Takada booked us only one room instead of two. I think she might have gotten the idea that since Hisoka left, that I would just be going."

"Well," you begin, standing. "Surely we can get another room."

"There isn't any room," he mutters, rubbing his eyes. "All of the hotels in the area are booked." You deflate, wondering what to do next. Nanami watches you carefully, picking up his briefcase before you reply,

"Well, I guess we have no choice, then."

He escorts you up to the elevator and swipes his keycard, pressing the highest floor before clearing his throat. You feel sweat pooling under your arms as you think about possibly sharing a bed with your boss. Yes, he's handsome as hell. But... sleeping in the same bed as a co-worker is... wrong. Right?

When the door to the suite opens, you look around at the lavish furnishings and beautiful view it affords you.

"I'll take the couch," Nanami announces, sighing as he drops his luggage beside the less than appealing couch.

"It looks uncomfortable," you state, and he takes off his glasses.

"I'm not going to assume you're comfortable with me sharing a bed with you, so I'm offering it to you by default."

"I'm sure we can both fit," you offer, and he glances up at you curiously. "Don't worry, it'll be fine." Nanami thinks for a moment, then moves his things into the bedroom, placing them on the other side of the king-sized bed. "And I promise I won't tell anyone," you tease, but he just gives you a blank look that makes you look away, cringing internally. Cool it with the jokes, you tell yourself.

As Nanami takes a shower, you pull out the various items you have to sleep in, groaning at your selection. There were only short, frilly things, instead of what you normally brought - baggy t-shirts and sweatpants. Why did you choose to bring these of all things?

Grumbling, you walk over to the mini-fridge and pull out a small bottle of Moët, tossing it back for courage. You feel the champagne hit your system moments later- and you wonder how you made it through college at this point.

The sound of the shower shutting off makes you squeak, and you throw on the silk slip before climbing into bed and facing away from the bathroom door. When Nanami emerges, you hear him shift around before climbing under the sheets, and muttering,

"Good night, y/n."

"Good night, sir."

_____________________________________________________________

Your arm is on someone's chest when you awake. You moan, lifting your head and coming face to face with your boss - who is already awake.

"Oh!" you shift off of Nanami, heart beating wildly. "I am so sorry, sir, I--"

"No, it's fine," Nanami chuckles. "It's not every morning that I wake up with a beautiful woman in my bed. Or have her talk about me in her sleep."

"Huh?" you stop, feeling your stomach drop.

"You said some... interesting things about me while you were asleep. If I had known you were a sleeptalker, I would have--"

"What did I say?" you whisper, frightened.

"Oh, nothing," Nanami chuckles, getting out of the bed and stretching. "Just something about how you found me good-looking and how you wanted to--"

You look away from him, rubbing your face in embarrassment. "I am so, so sorry, Mr. Nanami, it must have been the Moët I had before bed."

"Oh, I'm not upset. I just wish you would've said something sooner, y/n." You turn back to him, your eyes widening. "I find you attractive, too. But I had to be sure you weren't just dreaming before I said anything to you." He climbs back onto the bed, touching your face with a tender hand.

You instinctively lean into his palm, and he tilts your chin up, leaning forward. His lips ghost over yours before pressing against your cheek, and you moan. "Is this okay?" Nanami wonders, and you nod, feeling goosebumps run across your skin.

"Yes," you reply, and he leans forward again. This time, he kisses you gently, hands drifting from your face to your hips, where they play with the edges of your slip.

"Do you know how hard it was to sleep with you next to me?" he breathes, kissing down your neck. "Your beautiful hands fluttering from my face to my chest..." He cups your breasts over your slip and thumbs your nipples repeatedly, making you shudder.

"Nanami..." you exhale, and he removes one of the spaghetti straps of your slip slowly. "Sir, I--" He stops, replacing your strap quickly.

"I'm sorry, I'm not supposed to do this," The blonde man shakes his head, closing his eyes. Your breath hitches, but he doesn't move away from you, still. "I shouldn't--"

"Please," you interrupt him, grabbing his wrist. "Please." At your appeals, his lips crash into yours again and you tangle your fingers into his hair.

"Tell me when you want to stop," he urges you, hands running up your slip and gripping your bare thighs. But you allow him to lay you across the bed, tongues tangling as he undresses you with care.

"I need you," you breathe, and Nanami hums in response.

"We'll be late to the conference," he notes, but you shake your head. "We might not even make it the first day." But he makes no move to stop, again, rolling your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. "You alright with that?" The only thing you can do is moan as your body writhes underneath his grip, his hands orchestrating the symphonic melodies coming from your throat.

Nanami blinks slowly, leaning down to capture one of the buds between his lips. He sucks and pulls with precision, and your mind goes blank, not even registering that the color of the ceiling. All you know are the sensations you're feeling right now.

"How do you feel?" Nanami wonders, a hand sliding down to your core. As his fingers slide between your folds, you whisper,

"It feels good." He presses a finger into you before adding another, hovering above you as he strokes your g-spot.

"You're so beautiful," Nanami moans, eyes roaming over your exposed body as he drives you to madness, adding his thumb on your clit. You want to let go, you want to cum, but the fear of your boss seeing you in this way is just-- "It's okay," Nanami whispers, pressing his lips to your ear. "I promise I won't tell anyone."

"Oh my god," you shudder, his fingers being coated with your slick and cum liberally. Nanami croons at the way your hips jerk into his palm while you squirt all over his hand. You pant heavily once it's over, and he removes his shirt, revealing a body you've only dreamed about. His muscles are just as defined as you thought, and as he removes his pants dutifully, you watch his thick cock spring free.

"Can I?" he wonders, pumping his cock with his slick covered hand. You spread your legs a little more, inviting him to fuck you just like you've wanted for so long.

All those days he walked by your desk with his sleeves pushed up around his arms... all those times he stopped to speak with you about your day... and all those times you watched him give a presentation, imaging his lips rolling across your skin during the meetings... You would faint if you knew just how close you could get to him in one morning.

As Nanami sinks into you, you exhale deeply, and he grips your leg, leaning down and pressing himself onto you carefully. Your arm winds around his back and he stares at you as he pumps into you, his warm breath caressing your face. "Is that good?"

"So good," you whine, curling your nails into his skin. "Nanami, I--"

"Kento," the man whispers against your skin. "Please, call me Kento."

"Kento," you instantly moan, and he presses a kiss to your throat, picking up his speed. His free hand snakes behind your back, lifting you up a little as he fucks you. His breathing becomes ragged as his cock strokes your insides, pulling sounds out of you that you never considered being in your lexicon.

The smacking sounds and wetness between your thighs are enough to bring you to the edge, but Nanami slows his strokes, making them long and deep. Your orgasm abates, but you don't mind. Being beholden to Nanami is heaven.

"I'm going to make you feel some things," he warns, and you open your mouth to reply, but he continues. "You might not like being edged, but I want you to feel this next orgasm in your soul." Edged? He picks up his speed once more, knocking the thought right out of your head as you're jostled back and forth on the sheets. You can't really think rationally, anyways. Why bother?

"Mmmm," you grunt, face scrunching together as you feel another orgasm building again. And you think maybe he'll let you cum, but he slows down again, sweat dripping from his face onto your chest. "Kento, I can't take it!" you pant, but your boss nods.

"Just one more, y/n." You oblige, toes curling painfully as he quickens his thrusts and pulls you up and leans back, pumping into you from below. The sensation is remarkably different, you note, and his dick curves into you perfectly as he continues thrusting. You gasp, fingers curling into his shoulders as you feel the same orgasm building. "Ken--"

He slows down again, and you cry out, thighs quivering with the need for release. "Hold on to me," Nanami breathes, smoothing his hands down your arms and taking your fingers in his. "I'm going to let you cum this time." You tuck your face in between the crook of his neck and shoulder, moaning obscenely as he fucks you back to the brink of insanity. But this time, when your thighs clench and your hips stiffen, he keeps going, squeezing your hands carefully.

"Kento, oh my fucking god," you shout, losing yourself in the intensity of the orgasm. You might have blacked out if it wasn't for Nanami holding you against him and his hips stuttering violently as he came inside of you.

"That's it," your boss moans loudly. "That's my girl..." You're so overwhelmed that you don't register where he stops and where you begin. Everything is hazy, and you wonder if this is what it's like to be fuck drunk. You feel something being pulled over you and the way Kento holds you close, whispering sweet nothings to you as you try to keep awake, but your whole body surrenders to the finality of the moment, to the peace, and you fall asleep in his arms.

[itwoodbeprefect]

for the prompt request - undercover as a couple, mcdanno? (or, if that doesn’t work for you, mcdanno bodyswap maybe? idk idk, it’s straight crack but god i love bodyswap fics)

Fdfjdk I would have loved to have written undercover as a couple while bodyswapped for you, but I’m honestly not sure if I’ve read a single bodyswap fic in the last ten years, so I wouldn’t even know where to begin with that trope. Undercover as a couple it is! Sort of. Even that got a little weird, maybe.

>>> Read it on ao3 here

---

“What kind of world do we live in, anyway,” Danny asks, shaking open a paper from yesterday someone must have left behind, “where gay hitmen are a thing?”

Steve’s been perusing a National Geographic. He licks his index finger to turn a page. “What, would you rather have homophobic hitmen?”

“I’m just saying it would make a little more sense, you know. Instinctively.”

Steve lifts his magazine to tap the glossy cover. There’s a dramatic picture of a whale in the familiar yellow frame, with a month and a year printed all the way at the top. “It’s 2021, Danny. Two guys can get married and still do freelance work for the mob.”

“Until we arrest them,” Danny reminds him. “And Tani gets into their Google Calendar and it lets us know that they had a first meeting with another client in Hawaii planned this afternoon.” He gives up on the paper and folds it again. Way too much of a cliché for an illicit meeting, anyway. “Which all sounds like fiction. You know that all sounds like fiction, right?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Steve says, turning another page in his National Geographic, like he’s actually reading it, here, in a dentist’s waiting room, while they’re trying to impersonate the married hitmen they arrested this morning. Danny supposes there’s nothing that says a hitman can’t have a passion for nature. Probably good for climate change, knocking a few people off the Earth every now and then. “As long as whoever’s meeting us here buys it.”

Danny glances at his watch. “They’re about to be late.”

About to be, but it never gets that far - one of the three doors in the far wall swings open. Out steps a tall white man, greying, with a good haircut, and exactly the look one would expect a dentist to have. Little more handsome than average, maybe. “Rafferty and O’Brien?”

Danny doesn’t frown, because that might be suspicious, but he hopes this isn’t their guy. He pushes the glasses he had lying around from his stint as professor Jeffries back up his nose.

They get up perfectly in sync, like they planned it that way. Steve tosses the National Geographic back on the pile of magazines on the little side table. “I’m Rafferty,” he says, his hand finding the small of Danny’s back, “he’s O’Brien.”

“Of course. I’m Dr. Vos.” Danny already knew that, but he smiles dutifully and shakes the this-man-has-definitely-been-to-a-tanning-salon-even-though-he-lives-in-Hawaii hand he’s offered. “Come on in.”

They follow Dr. Vos into the dental treatment room. It’s a familiar sight: crisp white decor, cabinets along the walls, a large window looking out onto the little park alongside the building, and the large dark blue leather chair as a central piece.

Steve lets Danny go through the door first, which is suspicious until Danny remembers the parts they’re playing. He has to be someone who’s willing to take money to kill another human being, and also be in love with Steve. It’s a very layered role.

Apparently, Steve has decided that his interpretation of Rafferty includes having manners. Must be hard, playing a character that’s such a far stretch from Steve’s actual personality.

Dr. Vos sits down in the wheely chair he uses when he’s working on a patient and studies them for a moment. “I have to admit to some curiosity,” he says, and Danny thinks shit and has to keep his hand still to not go for the fake glasses again or the real gun strapped to his ankle. High class hitmen aren’t twitchy. Dr. Vos continues, “Neither of you took the other’s last name?”

Steve glances at Danny. “We became partners first, then we got married,” he says, and it sounds very natural. Danny blinks. “We already had a reputation at that point. Would’ve been bad for business.”

“Ah,” Dr. Vos says, giving a rueful little smile. His teeth are an excellent advertisement for his practice. “Very smart. Marriage can certainly be complicated in the most unexpected of ways, can it not? Especially on a fiscal level.” He sighs, turns his chair, gets a little frame from a corner of one of the cabinets, and turns back to them. “This is my wife,” he says, handing over the frame.

Steve takes it, so Danny gets close up against his side to have a look. He grabs Steve’s wrist to turn it a little for a better view and then doesn’t let go. Steve drops an arm along Danny’s shoulders to accommodate him. “Pretty,” Danny says, even though the woman in the picture looks like her husband is a plastic surgeon, rather than a dentist.

“Yes,” Dr. Vos agrees absently. He reaches behind to get something else from the cabinet: an unmarked white envelope that appears to contain a pretty thick stack of paper. “Unfortunately I’ve done the calculations, and it’s really not cost-effective to go through a divorce. The friend that referred me to you informed me of your going rates - I assume paying half now and half after the job is done is acceptable?”

Danny sneaks a glance at Steve. They’ll need a little more than that. “Which job?” he asks, taking one for the team.

Dr. Vos looks at him like he’s a little disgusted by how stupid that question is. “Killing my wife.”

It’s really, really nice when criminals are inept enough to state their criminal intentions out loud. Dr. Vos makes a grab for a very sharp instrument from his little dentist’s tray when they try to grab him, but Danny is quicker, foregoing his gun in this tiny indoors space to tackle their perp to the floor and pin him there, knee between the shoulder blades.

“Ugh,” Danny says, and really means it.

Steve has put down the little photo frame of the intended victim and is sweeping up some of the money that fell form the envelope when Dr. Vos dropped it in the scuffle, but he pauses and looks Danny over, sharply, at Danny’s verbal complaint. “You okay?” There’s a glint of gold on Steve’s finger, where his hand still hovers in the air just over the money on the floor. The ring doesn’t look half bad on his hand.

Danny shakes his head. “No. Wanna hear something that sucks? This is my dentist.”

Dr. Vos frowns, handsome face pressed against the floor. “That’s a lie. I’ve never seen-”

Danny takes off his glasses. There’s a gasp from the guy under him, even though Danny’s knee is still in his back and to see anything Vos needs to twist his neck at an angle that looks uncomfortable.

“What?” Steve asks, a little annoyed, while passing Danny a pair of handcuffs. God knows where he was hiding those. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Danny yanks Dr. Vos’s hands close enough together to cuff him, and then pulls him into an upright sitting position on the floor. “I was hoping it would just be the girl working the front desk, or something.”

Steve shakes his head like he can’t believe it. “She looked like a student. How’s she going to pay for college and a pair of hitmen?”

“I don’t care. Now I have to find a new dentist.” Like life isn’t scarring enough without a guy who’s been in your mouth with a little drill turning out to be a murderer.

“Use mine.” Steve offers a hand - the one with the ring on it, Danny notes - and pulls Danny up from his crouch. “They’re popular, but I’m sure they’d be able to squeeze in their favorite patient’s spouse.”

“Why are you their favorite patient? Your teeth are perfect, what do you need-” Danny pauses in the middle of his sentence and decides on a different thing to focus in on. Steve has this unique ability to include at least two or three preposterous implications in everything he says. “Wait, you know we’re not actually married, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” Steve says, and Danny can breathe again, letting go of the horror stories unfolding in his head in which Kono set their cover up so well she hacked some government servers to file legally binding marriage certificates. Marriage is one bad idea - being married off is a way worse one.

“You’re not?” Dr. Vos asks, from the floor. He sounds genuinely surprised. 

They both ignore him. Steve continues, “But we’re pretty good at pretending that we are.”

Danny looks at the ring on his own finger. It, too, perhaps does not look completely terrible, which is a strange thought to be having post-Rachel.

He slips it off anyway, but then lets it drop into his shirt pocket, instead of Steve’s again outstretched hand. Steve doesn’t protest, even though he’ll probably have to explain to the Governor why the wedding bands they requisitioned were never returned. “I’ll keep this close for now,” Danny says, with a pat to his shirt. “Might need it in the future.”

Steve grins. “Good thinking, buddy.”

“Ugh,” Danny’s ex-dentist says, and this time he seems to really mean it. “What kind of world do we live in, anyway?”

Danny pats Steve on the ass on the way out, just to show him.

[firstofficerwiggles]

Chapter 4: A Rather Indecent Proposal

Links to other chapters: Chpt. 1, Chpt. 2, Chpt. 3 Chpt. 5

Pairing: The Mandalorian x female reader

Rating: T

Warnings: Jealous!Din, a little bit of canonical violence

Word Count: ~9900 (I know it’s long, but it felt better as one chapter instead of split into two.)

Author’s note: Happy Mando Monday! I hope you enjoy this new chapter! First though, I need to apologize if the man you love or you yourself are called Eugene, but please don’t hate me for thinking it’s an unsexy name. Also, apologies to skinny men everywhere, you might not be my type, but I’m sure someone is into you.

“Do you think you could come with me for a business meeting? I could use your language skills.” Mando surprises you with his request. So far, he’s always conducted any business on his own, and except for a few weeks ago when you asked him about his bounty, he hasn’t shared any details of his work with you. But as always, you’re eager to help him if you can.

“Of course, I can. What do you need?” You’re actually kind of excited at the chance to accompany him.

“The client comes from the Unknown Regions and I hear he prefers to use Sy Bisti when possible,” Mando explains, “He’s also known to be very particular, so anything that can impress him would be helpful.”

“Absolutely, I can be your interpreter,” you agree, “When is this meeting?”

“As soon as we get to Canto Bight in a couple of hours.” He tells you. Oh, you look down at your lounging-on-the-ship comfy clothes; you’ll need to get yourself pulled together for a business meeting.  

“I better go get changed into something more presentable then. Can you watch the little guy?” You ask him.

“Why? You look fine.” Mando is such a guy sometimes. You just give him an incredulous look with a small raise of your eyebrow as if to say really? “I mean, sure, I’ll watch the kid if you want to change.”

“Thanks. But, yes, I definitely need to change before we meet your client,” you reply and head down to the hull; you’re almost out of earshot when you hear him mutter to the child, “Don’t get it, she always looks fine to me.” It makes you smile to yourself that he thinks that, yet there’s a part of you that’s eager for him to see you dressed a little nicer for once.

For about the millionth time you tell yourself that you shouldn’t have a crush on Mando, but that voice is getting drowned out more and more by another one that keeps telling you to enjoy it. After your trip to Crucival, you know that he finds you attractive at least. And Maker knows you’re even more attracted to him now that you know him even better. Plus seeing him almost naked was hard to ignore! So what if he considers you just a friend, as long as you don’t let things get out of hand, or say something stupid to him, you might as well have fun with your silly little fantasies.

You rummage through your clothing and pull out a nice black dress. It’s stylish but without being too fussy and you think, it will be perfect for a meeting with a client. Besides, if you’re going to Canto Bight, you know most of the women there will be dressed to the nines so you want to make sure you’re helping Mando give off a good impression. You take the time to style your hair and put on some make-up too. You give yourself a once-over in the small mirror in the fresher and, even in the harsh industrial light, you have to say that you look pretty nice. You knew that being a nanny to a toddler was never going to be a glamorous job, but the chance to clean up like this is fun every once in a while.

“We’re landing soon, you need to come sit down!” You hear Mando calling to you, so you quickly make your way back up to the cockpit.

“Thanks,” you say as you get back to your seat, but before you sit down, you turn to Mando with a little flourish and say, “See, much more presentable for your client now.”

Din stares at you in the elegant dress; you’re literally taking his breath away and he can’t even speak for a few seconds. Finally all he can think to say is, “You look good.” And he immediately chides himself for not being able to come up with a better compliment. Thankfully, you seem pleased with his pathetic words and just give him a happy smile before buckling yourself in. He’s still staring at you, taking in the pretty hairstyle you’ve created and looking at whatever it is that you’ve done to make your lips seem redder and fuller. It isn’t until a sensor on the control panel starts beeping loudly that Din snaps back to reality and focuses on landing the Crest.

“Wait, what about the child, do we bring him with us?” In your excitement, you’ve forgotten your primary job, as you’re getting ready to head out into the hustle and bustle of this flashy city. You look at the little one’s big eyes and like his father, he also seems to be fascinated with your done-up appearance.

“Sure, I have a satchel he can ride along in. And he’s plenty old enough to get into the casino; the age to get in is 18.” Mando chuckles as he maneuvers his 50-year-old toddler into a small brown shoulder bag. Mando’s cape partially obscures the little one making him less noticeable. You suppose he’ll be all right, it’s only a meeting in the restaurant of a casino; it’s not as if you’re taking the little one to the gaming tables. Although if you’re honest, you wouldn’t be surprised if Mando said that was perfectly ok too, so long as he’s safe. You give his tiny hand a squeeze and he coos back at you seemingly eager for your little adventure.

You follow Mando off the ship and through the throngs of men in sharply tailored evening jackets and women beautifully attired in chic gowns. Everyone looks very cosmopolitan especially against the stunning background of the decadent casino. You have to admit that you were expecting something a little more garish based on the descriptions you’ve heard of Canto Bight, but this particular establishment is quite nice with marble floors, crystal chandeliers, and unique modern art pieces strategically placed throughout the large lobby. With Mando in his beautiful beskar armor and you in your fashionable dress, you make a dashing pair as you pass by the colorful lights of the gaming machines.

Din leads you to a restaurant entrance and tells the maître d’ that he is here to meet a Mr. Omseki. The man seems slightly taken aback by the presence of a Mandalorian but when his gaze lands on you, his face softens and in a crisp accent he says, “Right this way, Madam” and then he barely glances at Din, as he says, “Sir”. It’s not surprising that the man would rather keep his eyes on you with your eyes shining in delight as you take in the scene around you. Din’s never cared much for Canto Bight and its rather pompous atmosphere, but he’s finding some charm in this place as he watches your reaction to it all. Not to mention, Din knows he would have received a much frostier welcome here without you by his side and he’s very glad you came with him. As you reach the client’s table, this feeling is renewed, as Mr. Omseki is all smiles as you greet him in the unusual language. Despite not understanding the words, Din can tell by the man’s animated speech, that he is positively delighted at the prospect of meeting with a beautiful woman and not just a Mandalorian bounty hunter. The man also seems happy to see the child and he gives him the flower from his lapel to play with as a small gift. Din listens as you interpret the client’s words and you all begin to exchange some welcoming small talk. Greef Karga had been the one to pass on this client to Din as a lucrative off-the-books bounty, but the man he described was temperamental and moody. Mr. Omseki is anything but moody tonight and if Din didn’t know better, he’d swear the man was flirting with you. He doesn’t love that idea, but if it helps this meeting go smoothly, it will be worth it.

Mr. Omseki is a charmer and he is thrilled to be speaking to you; he’s told you several times how pleasant it is to talk business in an ‘appropriate’ language and how overjoyed he is to speak to you. You suppose it must have been a while since he’s had the opportunity to speak Sy Bisti and perhaps that’s why he’s enjoying himself so much now. You’ve felt a little abashed at times, as you’ve interpreted his rather flowery praise of you to Mando although at least some of it has also extended to him. However, this client seems more interested in just chatting with you than he is in talking business with Mando. You try to steer the conversation back to Mando’s work, but each time you do, Mr. Omseki manages to ask you another question about yourself. Mando must sense your worry that you aren’t doing a good enough job and he drops his hand down to cover yours where it is sitting on the table. He gives you a reassuring squeeze and you continue making polite conversation with the client. You figure this must be part of his business negotiations.

Din leaves his hand covering yours in a clear message to the client that you belong with him. It’s a subtle gesture, but one that Mr. Omseki is shrewd enough to understand as shortly afterwards he shifts the conversation to the bounty that he wants Din to capture. He listens carefully as you interpret the details and he begins to formulate a plan for the hunt. Din almost has all the pertinent information, when a sudden commotion interrupts the conversation. He immediately pulls his blaster and shields you behind him. A man in a disheveled suit is pushing past the maître d’ and several waiters as he stumbles towards your table. Din realizes disappointedly that this man looks exactly like the quarry that was just described by Mr. Omseki.

“Mr. O-Omseki, I have it, I have all your m-money and the in-interest,” the man stutters out as he begins pulling out bags of credits from his coat.

“Well, well, Mr. Sanditore, looks like this is your lucky day,” Mr. Omseki drawls out, “I was just about to send this Mandalorian off to kill you.”

“Th- thank you Mr. Omseki, thank you, I promise you won’t have any trouble from me again.” The disheveled man is practically shaking with gratitude.

“Well, I am sorry Mr. Mandalorian, it was delightful to meet you and your most lovely interpreter, but I am afraid I no longer have need of your services.” Mr. Omseki says to Din. Then he turns to you and speaks in Sy Bisti in a soft voice. Din obviously can’t know what he’s saying but the mild look of surprise on your face is enough to raise his concern. Whatever it is though, you handle it gracefully and end the conversation with a pleasant tone before shifting back to Basic to say good-bye. As you exit the table, you reach for Din’s arm, threading your hand around his elbow. He is surprised by your touch but says nothing as you walk towards the large bar near the center of the restaurant.

“What did he say to you?” Din wants to know.

“He asked me if we were romantically involved, because if we weren’t he wanted to know if I was free for the rest of the evening.” You reply looking a little embarrassed.

“What did you tell him?” He really wants to hear this answer.

“I lied and said that we were. It seemed like the best solution.” You’re slightly looking away from him as you say this as if you’re worried about making eye contact.

“Good.” Din’s pleased you lied, and it’s petty, but he likes the idea of that rich man thinking that Din has something that he wants and can’t have.

“I’m sorry about the job though,” you’re saying to him now, “I know you must be disappointed.”

“It’s alright,” Din sighs a little though, “these things happen.” He sees you look around the bar area with a wistful look and realizes that you’re not ready to leave. “Besides, now we have time to stay and have a drink, just the two of us, well, us and our little sleeping bundle here.” The baby has curled up and is napping in his little satchel.

“Really?” You look so pleased that it makes Din smile to himself. You settle into one of the stools at the bar and Din motions to the bartender to order your drinks. He orders one for himself too, asking for a straw in his.

“Wait, so you do use straws?” You ask with a small laugh.

“Sure, it’s the easiest way to drink in public.” He shrugs matter-of-factly, but that just seems to make you giggle more. “What’s so funny?”

“I don’t know,” you say between giggles, “but there’s something so cute about you using a straw.”

“Cute?” He says, sounding slightly insulted.

“Oh stop, I mean it in a good way,” you say and light push his shoulder in a playful fashion, “It’s probably just because I’ve never seen you use a straw before.”

“So when you see me do something new, it’s cute to you?” Din is playing up his affront to the word cute because he’s enjoying teasing you.

“No, not everything new.” You roll your eyes at him. “It’s just when you do something ordinary, I guess, because I tend to think of you as extraordinary.” You let your lashes flutter a little as you say that last word, flirting with him.

“Extraordinary, huh?” He cocks his helmet to the side as he looks at you, “I like that better than cute.”

“Whatever, you’re still cute too.” You give him a wink and then turn to the bartender who has your drinks. Both glasses have a straw and you make quite a show of using yours, so much so that Din can’t help but let out a laugh. You’re both enjoying the moment so much that neither of you notice a thin, lanky man approach you.

“Ex-excuse me?” The man is trying to get your attention. Mando shifts back into alert mode almost instantly as he says, “Yes?”

The man is about as tall as Mando with very fair hair and pale skin. He looks to be in his mid-thirties and seems a little out of place here in a casino. Although, like the other men here, he’s wearing an expensive suit, but everything about him looks slightly uncomfortable and it’s as if he doesn’t quite know what to do with his body, like the way he holds his shoulders and moves his hands looks anxious.

“I’d like to hire you for an evening,” the man says, but weirdly he looks at you instead of Mando, but you figure that’s because he’s probably too intimidated to look directly at the Mandalorian.

“What sort of work do you need?” Mando asks in an even tone.

“Oh?” The man turns and looks at Mando directly, “I- I didn’t mean you. I want to hire her for an evening.”

Mando’s reaction to this statement is so swift you almost miss it. He instantly pulls his fist back and punches the man square in the face, knocking him to the floor. Mando looks down at him and grits out in an angry voice, “She’s not for sale.”

Well, this is a first. You thought you looked pretty nice tonight, but apparently, you look like a prostitute.

“Wait, wait, I’m s-sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” The man cowers on the ground but tries to explain himself, “I didn’t mean to insult her, or you.”

“So what did you mean?” Your curiosity has gotten the best of you.

“I just need a beautiful woman to pretend to be my girlfriend for an evening, that’s all.” He says.

“Exactly how is that different?” Mando is still towering over the man in a very threatening manner.

“Just to attend a party with me, and help me look good,” the man says quickly, “I promise nothing s-sex related at all.” He holds his hands up in a defensive posture. He looks back to you with pleading eyes, “I can pay you really well, and all you need to do is go to a party and wear a pretty dress.”

You admit you’re intrigued by the idea and you know that with Mando losing out on this latest bounty, any extra funds would be helpful. You put your hand on Mando’s bicep in what you hope is a calming motion as you say, “It can’t hurt to hear him out, Mando.”

“Are you serious?” Mando asks you in a low voice.

You shrug, “If we don’t like what he has to say, you can punch him again.” The man on the floor lets out a little whimper at that, but Mando gives you a small nod and backs away from the man.

Tentatively, the man picks himself up off the floor and extends a hand out to you, “I’m Eugene DeWitt, I own a company that creates high-end gaming machines and I develop algorithms for those machines.”

You shake his hand briefly, and give him your first name. “So, Mr. DeWitt, why do you need a pretend girlfriend to go to a party?”

“Please, call me Eugene. It’s the annual celebration for the casino owners and it’s my best chance to network with them. I’ve been to the party the last three years, but I haven’t been able to barely get a word with any of the important owners.” He explains.

“What makes you think I’d be able to change that?” You’re not sure what effect your presence would have on his ability to do business.

“I need to find a way to catch their interest and impress them, and I think a woman like you would be the best way to do that.” He tells you.

“I’m flattered, but I think you might be overestimating my appeal,” you reply, “besides, why don’t you just ask out a woman you want to date?”

“I’ve tried,” Eugene admits, “but honestly, even if they’d said yes, I know they wouldn’t have the same effect as you; you’re drop dead gorgeous.”

“He’s right,” Mando says softly, almost under his breath. Your head snaps to the side to look at him after that comment. You don’t have any time to process it however because Eugene is still speaking.

“I’ll pay you 20,000 credits just to go to the party with me and pretend to be my girlfriend.” He offers.

What?!? Is he serious? Suddenly this job has real potential. But you’re still skeptical that he wants you to just attend the party, it feels like that amount of money would come with additional stipulations.

“Let me get this straight, you want me to just go to the party with you and pretend to be your girlfriend, but you’re not expecting sex or any other sexual favors?” You state this outright because you need everything to be clear.

“Yes,” he confirms, “I would need you to be affectionate towards me, but only in an appropriate way in public.”

“Define what you mean by affectionate.” You want to make sure you know precisely what he wants.

“Hold my hand or arm, let me put my arm around you, dance with me, maybe let me give you a small kiss?” He suggests.

“No kissing.” Mando interjects all of a sudden.

“O-Ok, no kissing,” Eugene agrees, “But would you be alright with the rest of that?”

“Yes, I can do that.” His terms seem reasonable and honestly, that much money to just attend a party? You’ve had way worse jobs.

“I’m going too,” Mando states and from his tone of voice this is not up for debate, “I’ll be your bodyguard for the evening.”

“That’s a good idea,” Eugene is intrigued by the prospect; “A Mandalorian bodyguard would also be impressive.”

“Good, then you can pay us 40,000 credits for the evening,” you counter-offer. You know it’s ballsy to ask, but truthfully Mando’s skills are worth a lot and he should be paid as well.

“That was uh more than I was hoping to spend,” Eugene says.

“Maybe so, but now you’re getting both of us to help you impress these future clients,” you smile flirtatiously and look him right in the eye holding his gaze.

“I can do 35,000,” Eugene offers.

“Alright, 35,000 and you buy me a new dress and shoes for this party.” That last part is really only because you don’t own any other dresses that would be suitable for his event, but also part of you wants to see if you can get him to give in to you.

“Can the dress be red?” Eugene asks.

“Sure, I’ll get a red dress, if that’s what you’d like,” You’re totally fine with that.

“We have a deal.” He says.

“One more thing,” Mando speaks up again, “Pay her half the credits now.”

“How do I know you won’t just take my money and leave?” Eugene asks.

“You have my word as a Mandalorian.” His tone is serious and just intimidating enough that Eugene capitulates. He takes out a holopad and asks for your information and just like that, 17,500 credits are in your account. It’s more money than you’ve ever had.

You finalize all the arrangements for tomorrow, with Eugene offering to have his mother watch the child for the evening. Mando is a bit reluctant at first to have someone else watch the kid but he realizes it will be hard to pull off looking like a bodyguard with a baby in tow. Likewise, you can hardly play the role of trophy girlfriend if you have the little guy. You wait until Eugene takes his leave of you for the night before you turn to Mando to exclaim over this crazy turn of events.

“Oh my, Mando, can you believe it? 17,500 credits for each of us, just for one night of going to a party?” You can’t help the excitement in your voice.

“Hmm, yes, it’s a lot,” he says, with a lot less enthusiasm, “but it’s all your money.”

“What?” He catches you by surprise, “No, Mando, I’m going to split it with you.”

“He only wanted to hire you,” he states firmly.

“Yes, but I was never going to do this without you. I was going to suggest you come too but you beat me to it.” You explain to him.

“Were you really?” He sounds a little skeptical, but there’s a small note of hope in his voice too.

“Absolutely. I’m not so naïve that I would agree to go to a party with a total stranger without you there to protect me.” It feels so natural to you now that of course he would be there to watch over you. “Besides, I know that you being there will keep Eugene from getting too handsy.”

Mando makes a little snorting sound, “Yeah, I could do without the affectionate part.”

“Don’t worry, I can do just enough to make it look believable without letting it get out of hand.” You link your arm through his and lean a little onto his shoulder, “C’mon, Mando, be a little happy about the money with me.”

He reaches up and pats your hand where it holds onto him. “Alright, since it means that much to you, I’m happy.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day you are in a swanky boutique recommended by Eugene where you are on a mission to find a red evening gown for tonight. You tried to tell Mando that his presence was not necessary for this, but he insisted on coming along with the child in tow. It’s been an adventure already because as you were looking over possible dress choices with the saleswoman, the mischievous toddler managed to climb out of his satchel and onto a table in the lingerie section. When you caught him, he was playing in a pile of lace thongs with one pair dangling off his ear. Even more amusing was Mando who was trying to extract the kiddo from his panty pile while trying hard not to touch any of the thongs. Thankfully, the saleswoman thought it was all utterly charming and laughed right along with you. Now Mando and the little guy are sitting together looking only slightly out of place on an elegant velvet sofa while they wait for you to try on dresses.

It’s been so long since you’ve shopped for anything this fancy, you were feeling a little intimidated at first. Yet the more you viewed the beautiful gowns, the more excited you became at the prospect of wearing one for the evening. The selection in this shop is lovely and since you know Eugene is paying, for once you’re not worried about the price. You slip on the first dress and can’t help but smile at your stylish reflection. This first one is a slinky satin gown that hugs your curves. You step out into the main area of the dressing rooms where Mando is waiting and where there is also a large three-sided mirror.

“Oh that looks very nice on you,” the saleswoman says.

You turn to look at yourself in the multiple angles offered from the mirror, “I’m not sure, what do you think, Mando?”

“It’s fine,” he says flatly. Well, with that lack of enthusiasm, you know this dress is out.

The next dress is more of a ball gown style and it’s kind of a lot with a beaded bodice and a full tulle skirt. Still you figure you should see it in the better mirror for the full effect.

“Oh no, I look like a red powder puff!” You say in dismay.

“I like it better,” Mando says, and then under his breath you just barely hear him say, “You’re more covered up.”

“I can’t wear this and be taken seriously.” It’s on to dress number three.

As you adjust the straps for the third dress, you find your face heating up at your reflection. This dress screams trophy girlfriend as it is super sexy. The deep sweetheart neckline shows off a lot of cleavage and there are thigh-high slits on both sides of the skirt.

You’re barely out of the dressing room when you hear, “Absolutely not.”

You can see Mando’s visor trained on you and it feels like that black T is boring a hole into your body.

“I don’t know, I think I look really good in this one.” Wow, when you turn around you can see that this dress is practically backless.

“You look fabulous! Very hot!” the saleswoman coos at you.

“Go change.” Mando’s voice sounds deeper somehow and he’s using his this-is-not-a-request voice. A little naughty part of you wants to argue back with his demand, but you did tell him that you didn’t want Eugene to get too liberal with his definition of affection, so you figure Mando’s probably right.

When you head back to the dressing room, you’re down to just one more dress and as you slip it over your head, you know that this is the one. It’s made of a soft, floaty chiffon with a bodice that accentuates your bust and your waistline. The skirt flows down your hips and legs gracefully and while there’s a slit in this dress too, it’s more hidden and only offers a glimpse of leg as you move. When you step out of the dressing room this time all you hear is a soft murmur of approval from the saleswoman.

You smile at your reflection as you twirl a little in the mirror and imagine how nice you will look with your hair styled and with your evening makeup.

“This has to be the one,” the saleswoman is saying to you now, “Doesn’t she look enchanting?” and she turns to Mando for his approval.

Mando nods his helmet slightly, but remains quiet. You didn’t really expect him to say much, but you were hoping for a bit more than that. At least he isn’t disapproving of this gown though.

“I have the perfect shoes to go with this dress. I’ll be right back!” The saleswoman tells you.

Din waits until she is out of earshot and then says softly, “You look beautiful.” He watches as your face lights up with his compliment and you thank him, reaching out to grasp his arm briefly as you do. That seems to be a thing you do now when you’re particularly pleased with something he’s done. You turn back to the mirror to inspect the dress more and he lets his gaze roam over you.

The truth is Din thought you looked beautiful in all of the dresses, even in the silly puffy one. He didn’t want to encourage you too much with the first dress because although you looked great it in, the style was fairly revealing and he disliked the idea of Eugene seeing you in it. But then, that third dress, Maker, he almost had a heart attack when he saw you in that. It was so sexy he wanted to rip it off you right there in the middle of the store. There was no way in hell any other man was going to see you in that. This dress you’re wearing now is more sophisticated and gives off more of a sensual elegance than outright sexiness. He still hates the idea of Eugene seeing you in it and what’s more thinking that you chose the dress special for him. This whole job is stupid, but he can’t deny the money is too good to pass up. Still he doesn’t trust Eugene to have such pure intentions as he claims and he knows he won’t let the man have a single moment alone with you if he can help it.

You’ve finished choosing the shoes and now you’re heading back into the dressing room to put on your regular clothes. Din breathes a sigh of relief at seeing your normal self again and he feels himself relax a bit. He follows the saleswoman to the register station and watches as she carefully places the gown in a garment bag. You’re about to give the woman Eugene’s account information, when Din hands over his own credit chip to pay for the dress and shoes.

“Mando, what are you doing? Eugene is going to cover the cost of this.” You voice conveys your confusion at his actions.

“I’m not letting another man buy you a dress,” Din mutters.

“Why not? It’s only to wear for this party tonight.” You’re looking at him completely perplexed.

“Because I want to buy it for you,” he says more firmly this time. Din sees a flash of something in your eyes that he likes; it’s a mixture of respect and awe, and perhaps a touch of desire too if he’s not being too hopeful.

“Well, if you’re certain,” you reply softly still looking at him in that new way.

“I am.” Din takes the garment bag from the saleswoman and motions for her to charge everything to his chip. “You’re sure you didn’t want the big puffy dress, though?” And even though you can’t see the smirk on his face, he’s fairly confident you can hear it in his tone.

“Thank you, Mando, but I think this is the best choice.” You let out a light laugh and give him that beaming smile again that he loves to see. You follow him out of the store and then grasp his arm again as you say, “I really do love that dress, thank you for buying it for me.”

“You’re welcome,” Din tells you, wishing that it would just be the two of you going out tonight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You’re sure you want to do this? We could still turn around and leave.” This is the second time Mando has asked you that. The first was when you came out of the fresher after finishing your make-up and he saw your completed look for the evening. He didn’t compliment you again, but the long pause he took to look at you and the way he tilted his helmet to the side made your insides flutter nonetheless. Now you’re standing outside Eugene’s door and it seems he’s still having second thoughts.

“It will be fine, Mando. Just remember that this money means you can take a break from hunting and spend some extra time on finding the Jedi for the little guy here.” He sighs in response and knocks on the door.

You shift the toddler in your arms and you look down at him. He’s been having fun playing with the soft material of your dress and he’s got a big handful of your skirt in his little claws right now. The only worry you have is about leaving him with a stranger tonight. Eugene’s mother will probably be fine, but you’ve grown so attached to the child you’re feeling more anxious about being away from him that you anticipated.

“You’ll be a good boy tonight, won’t you, buddy?” You say to the child as you carefully extricate your dress from his little hand. “Mando and I will miss you but we won’t be too late.”

The door opens to reveal Eugene in a tuxedo with a red flower on his lapel and next to him, a cheerful looking older woman.

“Good evening, you look spectacular,” Eugene greets you enthusiastically.

“Thank you, you look dashing yourself,” you respond with a slight flirtiness to your tone. You figure you might as well get used to your role now.

“Oooh! Is this the sweet little baby I get to watch tonight?” The woman seems kind and the child coos at her with interest.

“Yes, thank you for doing this,” you respond pleasantly. You give the little guy a hug and a kiss on his forehead before handling him over to her.

“What a little charmer! You don’t have to worry about a thing, my dear. I’ll take good care of your baby and you take good care of mine.” She says with a wink towards Eugene.

“Th- thank you, mother.” Eugene sounds embarrassed and you try your best not to snicker. “We should get going.” He extends his arm to you and you lightly thread your hand around his elbow.

This whole time Mando hasn’t made a sound and is standing so still you’d almost think he was a suit of armor on display. But when you take Eugene’s arm, Mando lets out a little grunt that sounds like disapproval. You turn to look at him and mouth, “It will be OK” and give him as encouraging a smile as you can. The nod of his helmet to you is slight, but you know he understood.

Eugene leads you out onto the city walkway with Mando following close behind. The party is being held in the largest casino and it’s a short walk from Eugene’s home. Once again, the streets are filled with fashionable people ready for a night on the town. You feel the soft swish of your skirt against your legs and smile again at how nice it feels to be dressed up like this. You make small talk with Eugene, getting comfortable with him so you can make this look like a real date. You resist the urge to turn back and look at Mando though because you know if you do, your feigned interest in Eugene will falter.

By the time you reach your destination, you’ve managed to perfect a nice light laugh at Eugene’s jokes and you feel comfortable enough to lean into him in an affectionate way. As you enter the opulent ballroom of the casino, you paste a brilliant smile onto your face as if you’re simply delighted to be there. Eugene has told you he wants you to help draw the attention of various men in attendance so you figure you’ll sort of openly flirt with the room and see who notices. You catch the eye of a well-dressed older gentleman, and your technique works wonderfully as he comes right over.

“Good evening, I’m Mr. Belvers, the owner of this casino; it’s so very nice to have you here, my dear.” He greets you with a small bow and flourish of his hand.

“Why, thank you!” You respond warmly, “It was so nice of my boyfriend to bring me here tonight. You must know him, Mr. Eugene DeWitt of Advanced Gaming Enterprises?” You introduce Eugene with a smile.

“Oh yes, of course, Mr. DeWitt, how nice to see you again.” With the introductions made, Eugene launches into conversation with Mr. Belvers. You listen as best you can to the business talk and smile and nod like the perfect trophy girlfriend. It’s boring, but really easy when you realize that not much more is expected of you. Finally, with a promise to dance with Mr. Belvers later, the conversation ends and you breathe a small sigh of relief that if anything at least you got Eugene a few minutes with the owner of this place.

“That was incredible!” Eugene is saying excitedly, “I’ve never even met the man before but he acted like we were old friends. You are fantastic!” He gives your hand a squeeze and pulls you a little closer to him. He steers you deeper into the ballroom, eager to make another contact. You turn your head to look at Mando and give him a smile and a subtle nod, which he returns.

The pattern continues throughout the party, you spy an older man, make eyes at him, and reel him in for Eugene. When you’re between conversations, Mando has taken to checking in with you to make sure everything is going well. All in all, it’s about what you expected and you have to admit that Eugene was right; apparently, these men are all easily swayed by the look of a pretty face. You’re please to see that Mando’s presence is having a good effect too. These bigshots are very impressed that Eugene has a Mandalorian for his private security. Several of them have even asked Mando if he’s available for future security jobs too. Who knows, maybe Mando will come away with some business contacts of his own at the end of tonight.

As the evening continues, Eugene seems to be growing more confident, and you’ve noticed he’s taken to placing his arm around your waist. It doesn’t bother you, but occasionally his hand does seem to be a touch low. He also leaned in just a moment ago and let his lips brush your cheek. It wasn’t really much, but still you’re surprised he dared to try it.

“I said no kissing.” Mando’s voice is hard and direct, causing Eugene to flinch and instantly put more space between the two of you. “Keep your hands above her waist too.” Your heartbeat stutters at Mando’s protectiveness and you look at him with a grateful smile. When you’re sure no one else is looking, you give him the flirtatious look you’ve been using all evening and then top it off with a wink. You notice that he clenches his fists as you do this and then gives you a deeper nod in response.

I hate this, I hate this, I hate this. Din’s mantra for tonight is not a pleasant one. He’d much rather be hunting down a bounty right now than having to watch you flirt and simper to every man in the room. He’d rather be slogging through a swamp or crossing a frozen tundra to catch a quarry than have to watch yet another man ogling you or touching you. And then, there’s Eugene; Din would like to punch him in the face again. The man keeps getting bolder as the night progresses. Din’s caught him staring at your breasts and your ass several times, and he’s clearly getting too handsy. The only thing making this night remotely bearable is the way you keep looking over to him with such sweet glances, as if you’re sharing a secret with him. Although the way you looked at him just now made him want to sweep you up in his arms and haul you out of here as fast as he could. If you do that again, he doesn’t know if he can be responsible for his actions.

Din groans to himself, and prepares for this night to get worse because Eugene is leading you out onto the dance floor. There’s no way for him to follow close to you while you’re dancing and he’s willing to bet that Eugene takes advantage of that opportunity. In an attempt to stay in Eugene’s eye line as much as possible, Din stalks around the dance floor following your swaying movements. He can’t help but watch the graceful way you move as you dance, noticing the soft arch of your back and the delicate glide of your feet across the floor. As he sees Eugene’s arms pull you in closer, Din feels a deep burning anger in his stomach and once again thinks about breaking Eugene’s nose with his fist. This is the worst job ever.

Dancing with Eugene isn’t so bad you decide. It’s a nice break from all the forced flirting and extremely dull conversations you’ve had to put up with all evening. And despite the fact that you’d much rather be dancing with someone else, it’s still a pleasant activity. Moreover, after Mando’s warning, Eugene is back to being a gentleman and keeping his hands in polite territory. He does seem to be enjoying the dancing himself, quite a lot by the expression on his face, although every once in a while his confidence seems to fade for a moment.

“May I ask you a personal question?” Eugene looks at you quizzically.

“Alright,” you agree, curious.

“Are you and the Mandalorian involved? Romantically, I mean?” He looks nervous as he asks this.

“Do you think I would have agreed to this date if we were?” You deflect his question somewhat because you find that you don’t really want to admit that there’s nothing between you and Mando. Especially because it feels like you’ve been growing closer. You think about when he insisted on buying you the dress earlier today, and how special that felt, definitely not something a friend would do. Even tonight, there is this energy between you and Mando that you can’t deny, nevermind that you’re technically on a date with Eugene.

“He seems extremely protective of you.” Eugene replies.

You shrug lightly, “He is.”

“You know, if you wanted something else, a different life, I could make that happen for you,” Eugene looks at your earnestly, “After tonight, I’m going to be an even wealthier man. I would treat you like a princess.”

“Eugene,” you sigh, “I appreciate the offer, but-”

“Don’t answer yet,” he insists, “Think about it. Please.” He pulls you in closer to him so that you’re dancing cheek to cheek. You know he means it to be romantic but you feel nothing. There’s nothing to think about.

When the music ends, you feel relieved that you can put some space between the two of you. You’re turning to look for Mando when unexpectedly you hear a loud crash followed by blaster fire. As if he materialized out of nowhere, Mando is at your side pulling you to the floor and covering you with his body.

“I’ve got you,” Mando says, holding you close with one arm as the other holds his blaster. Your heart is racing and you hear the commotion of many people shouting, rushing feet, and general mayhem. You pull yourself tighter under Mando, squeeze your eyes shut, and try to keep as still as you can. Suddenly, Mando lifts off you slightly and fires three shots in rapid succession.

“It’s alright,” He tells you, “I took care of them. Everything is alright.”

“You’re sure?” Your voice comes out shaky and high-pitched.

“Hey, look at me, come on, look at me” Mando’s voice is soft and comforting, and you tip your head up and open your eyes to look at his visor. “You’re safe, no one will hurt you.”

“Thank you, Mando,” you breathe, feeling relief flood your body. Even though you can’t see his eyes, you know he’s looking back at you and it’s soothing.

“You have to let go of me now, cyar’ika, so I can help you up off this floor.” His voice is still soft and you can hear a lightness to it now. You hadn’t realized but you have a death grip on the material of his thick protective shirt on the side of his body. Chuckling weakly at yourself, you release him and he climbs off you before reaching down to pull you back to your feet.

“That was incredible shooting, Mando!” Eugene can’t hide how impressed and excited he.

“I’ll say it was!” the casino owner from before, Mr. Belvers, is coming over to offer his praise to Mando too. He gives Mando’s hand a hearty shake and then raises his voice to address the party, “Folks! Everything looks to be all safe now, thanks to this heroic Mandalorian!”

The partygoers erupt in applause and for the next several minutes, people are coming up to thank Mando personally. You’re glad to see Mando get appreciation he deserves for saving everyone, but from his body language, you think he seems a bit embarrassed by all the attention.

“Who were they?” You turn and ask Mr. Belvers.

“Some thugs who have been plaguing the casinos for weeks now. I think they came here tonight trying to rob people of their valuables. By the way, there is a reward for their capture and I’ll see to it that those credits are yours, sir.” He says this last part directly to Mando.

Din thanks the man and gives him a small card with his guild information, explaining how best to pay him. Now that the danger in the room has cleared, quite literally by casino workers who’ve come to take away the bodies of the dead men, people are starting to go back to the party. These people are so wealthy and spoiled that these violent men and the Mandalorian who dispatched them are already just an amusing anecdote to be shared over cocktails. He is so ready to leave this place. Din looks over to you and sees that while you’re calmer now, you are still visibly shaken from the intrusion of the would-be robbers. He wonders sheepishly if maybe he scared you a little too by yanking you to the ground so quickly, but it was pure instinct to protect you. Nitwit Eugene is rambling on about what an exciting evening it’s been to whoever will listen, completely oblivious to your discomfort. Din decides Eugene’s gotten more than his money’s worth and he’s taking you home right now.

“It’s time for us to leave.” Din’s voice is stern as he steps closer to you and Eugene, not caring that he’s interrupting the man.

“So soon, the party is still going-” Eugene tries to protest, but when he sees Din’s rigid posture, he trails off.

“I am rather tired, Eugene,” you say, and then lower your voice “Besides, it will be better to leave them wanting more.” Din watches as you bat your eyelashes at the man and give him a soft smile, and then like magic, Eugene is agreeing to leave. Din does have to admire your skill at using your feminine wiles to get men to do your bidding. He also knows that if you ever choose to try that with him, he’ll be putty in your hands. He smiles at the thought, but it’s short-lived as soon as he sees Eugene slide his arm around your waist again as he steers you towards the exit. Din tromps after the two of you, at least this stupid job is almost over.

You’re close to Eugene’s place and you’re feeling quite glad that this fake date is almost over. You just want to get the child and hurry back to the Crest so Mando can fly you away from here. Eugene is wittering on telling you how great you were and what a wonderful pair you make, but you’re only barely listening to him. Blessedly when you get to Eugene’s door, Mando is all business.

“It’s time to make the final transfer of credits,” Mando tells Eugene.

“Of course,” Eugene replies, taking out his holopad and completing the necessary functions. “Thank you again, you were both very impressive.”

Eugene opens the door and you and Mando wait for a few minutes until he returns with the little one who is sound asleep. He hands the child to Mando and then turns to you, “I’d like a moment alone to speak to you before we say goodnight.”

“Eugene, I think I did everything you wanted tonight, but our fake date is over.” You say pointedly.

“Please, it will only take a moment.” He looks at Mando, “Please.”

“Fine,” you say and give Mando a small nod. He doesn’t exactly give you any privacy, but Mando does take a few steps away and turns his body slightly so he’s no longer facing you head on.

Eugene takes your hand in his and says in a soft voice, “Please, tell me that you’ve thought about my offer?”

“There’s nothing for me to think about; I belong with them,” you tell him as you pull your hand from his grasp and gesture towards Mando and the child.

“But there’s so much more I can do for you, I can give you more than he can. I can give you a safe home, beautiful clothes and jewelry, you’ll never want for anything.” Eugene must think you’re completely shallow and nothing but a gold digger. “And, I would worship you.” He’s really piling it on thick now.

“Eugene, you don’t even know me, and if you did, you would know that I’m not interested in that life,” you state firmly, “I think it’s time to say goodbye. I wish you all the best with your business.” You turn to go but Eugene reaches out for your arm. Fortunately Mando is already back at your side and he brushes Eugene’s arm away roughly as he says,

“She said no.” Din turns to escort you away, placing his arm around your waist, mimicking Eugene’s earlier touch. It means he’s holding you much closer to his body than he has before when he usually just places a palm on the small of your back. He feels you relax into his touch and for the first time this evening, he feels a sense of rightness. Still though, Eugene’s words I can give you more than he can are ringing in his ears and his self-doubt makes him sigh.

He waits until you are far enough away so that Eugene cannot hear him and in a small voice, Din forces himself to ask you, “You’re certain you don’t want to stay? He did make you a good offer.”

“What? No, I absolutely don’t want to stay with Eugene.” Your answer is swift and a bit shocked.

“I would understand if you did.” Din says, his voice still soft and trying to hide his emotion.

“Mando, do you want me to stay?” You stop and turn to face him so you can look directly at his visor, your face openly displaying your displeasure at his words.

“No,” he says strongly, “I don’t. Not at all. But it would be wrong of me to hold you back if you wanted to leave.”

You slip your hand into his and look at him with soft eyes as you say, “Mando, I don’t want to leave you, or the child. I’m happy with you both, happier than I’ve been in a long time. Eugene is wrong; he doesn’t know what you can give me.”

Din’s heart pounds at your words, as he says, “I’m glad,” he pauses just for a second before he tells you, “I don’t want you to leave us.” He gives your hand a small squeeze and turns to continue walking.

“Besides, there’s no way I could stay with a man I’m not attracted to in the slightest.” Your voice has a lighter tone to it and it breaks a bit of the tension.

“He wasn’t that ugly,” Din shrugs and you laugh in response.

“No, it wasn’t really about his looks, just the overall way he carried himself. I prefer a man with more confidence.” You say.

“Confidence is attractive.” Din agrees with you.

“Yeah, it is. I like a man who can walk into a room and earn everyone’s respect just by the way he holds himself. That’s incredibly attractive.” You give him a slight side-glance as you say this. “But if we’re being shallow, then I also wasn’t physically attracted to Eugene either.”

“Why not?” Din’s curiosity is peaked.

“He was much too skinny.” You wrinkle your nose a bit as you say this.

“You like chubby men?” Din chuckles, and while he’s not chubby, he thinks of his own stomach which isn’t quite as flat as it used to be when he was younger.

“I like bigger men,” you clarify, “Men who are broader, more muscular. Although chubby is cute too. When I cuddle with a guy, I want something to cuddle in to.”

“Is that so?” It’s not lost on Din that what you’ve just described is essentially him and he can’t deny how much he likes hearing that. Plus, now he’s imagining what it would be like to cuddle with you. He doesn’t have time to dwell on that thought however, because you’re giggling at something.

“Well and then there was the worst part, his name,” you say rather playfully.

“What was wrong with his name?” Din’s never thought about a name being part of someone’s attractiveness.

“Honestly, I don’t think I could seriously moan out Eugene in a moment of passion.” You’re consumed by giggles at the idea.

Din is stunned by what you’ve just said and all he can think about is what your voice might sound like if you were to moan out his name, his real name. Fortunately, he doesn’t seem to need to respond to you as you’re still wracked with laughter.

“Oh no!” You stop laughing and gasp, “I didn’t think.”

“What?” He has no idea what could be bothering you.

“Your name isn’t Eugene, is it?” Your eyes are wide as you look at him.

Din lets out a loud laugh at how comically horrified you look at the prospect. He’s still chuckling as he tells you, “Hell no.”

“Thank the Maker,” you mutter under your breath, making Din laugh again.

You’ve made your way back to the Razor Crest now and it isn’t until you have to let go of him so that he can open the ramp, that you realize you’ve been holding Mando’s hand this entire time. It felt so natural and easy to walk holding his hand, and you hope he felt the same way. You watch as he tucks the child into his pram for the night. You should probably go get yourself ready for bed, but you want to keep talking to Mando.

“May I ask you a question?” You say as he turns back towards you.

“Of course.” He nods to you.

“Why were you so adamant about no kissing tonight? I mean not that I wanted to kiss Eugene,” you make a face at the idea, “But, it seemed to really bother you?”

“Oh” Is all that he says and then he looks away slightly. You wait patiently but for a while it seems as though that might be the only answer you get, until he finally says, “I didn’t want to see him kiss you. I don’t want to see any man kiss you.”

The air between you feels suddenly charged, and you look into his visor where you think his eyes are, and you can’t help yourself from asking, “Why not?”

“Because I can’t kiss you.” Mando admits.

“Do- do you want to kiss me?” You can’t believe you’re daring to ask him that but you need to know.

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” he says and you can hear frustration in his tone, “I shouldn’t and I can’t.”

“I would like to kiss you, but only if it’s something you want too,” you admit to him softly.

“I do want to kiss you,” Mando sighs and he moves towards you slightly but then holds himself in check.  

“So Mandalorians don’t kiss? I just want to understand, I don’t want to pressure you to do anything you don’t want to do or that goes against your beliefs,” you explain, wanting him to understand that you respect his creed. You can’t deny how much you want to feel closer to him and show him how you feel, but the last thing you want is to make him uncomfortable or do something he’ll regret.

“They do, there are… loopholes, but I- I’ve never-, I want to, but-” Mando shifts his feet and looks down.

“It’s ok, I understand.” You’re quiet for a moment and you think perhaps you should just drop this. But then you can’t stop yourself from asking, “What about the Keldabe Kiss? Didn’t you say there was something softer?” Your face heats up as you remember that moment well; you’ve thought about it often.

“You remembered that?” Mando says in a low voice.

“It was pretty unforgettable, Mando,” you reply with a smile.

“There is a softer version. I could show you. If you’d let me.” His voice sounds hopeful.

“I’d like that.”

He steps closer to you then and seems to stare at your face for a long moment until you decide to close the distance between you two. You’re so close you can hear him breathing. He reaches up and places his large hands on either side of your face, holding you still, as he slowly brings his helmet down to touch your forehead. When he finally makes contact, you hear him let out a shaky breath. You bring your hands to his waist and pull him in a little closer to you as you maintain contact with him. While this isn’t what you pictured when you thought of kissing him, you can’t deny how intimate and special it feels. Just from the deliberate way that Mando is holding you, tells you how important this is for him. You stay like that holding each other and feeling suspended in time.

“I know this isn’t the same as real kissing,” Mando says, “but I like holding you like this. I’ve thought about doing this a lot.” His voice is so soft you almost feel like you imagined his confession.

“I like it too,” you tell him. You’re about to tell him how much you’ve thought about being held by him as well, when suddenly the child’s cries fill the air. Just like that, the moment between you and Mando is gone and you hurry over to pick up the little one and soothe him.

“I guess I should go get us on our way. Besides, he always sleeps better when we’re in hyperspace.” Din takes a step towards the ladder, but then pauses before coming over to you and dropping his helmet down onto your forehead again for just a few seconds. It’s a small gesture, but his heart soars at being able to do it. He gives the child a comforting pat on the back before turning away and heading to the cockpit, his head full of thoughts of you.

P.S. Don’t think that you missed hearing him call you cyar’ika, you’ll be sure to ask him about it later ;)

--------‐------------------------------------Thank you for reading! Here's the link to Chapter 5 Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged in later chapters.

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[paper-n-ashes]

The Late Shift

Characters: Paul Sevier x Female Reader

Words: 2k

Warnings/Tags: There’s actually none (I hope). I know. I’m surprised too.

Authors Note: This is so dumb. I’m aware. Look, I’ve been dealing with a horrendous writers block and shattered confidence and I made Paul Sevier gifs to ease my pain. It turned into this. I just wanted to try something a little cute and fluffy to get back into the swing of things. So... here it is.

*

It was going to be a long night.

Stuck on the Wednesday evening shift for the third time this month, you mindlessly fiddled with the pen in your hand. Twirling it between your fingers, your mind drifted away from the present moment, wondering why your boss seemed to dislike you so much to keep you here past 6pm in the middle of the week. He’d always been adamant this was prime selling time for this boutique suit store, with corporate clients needing to do their shopping outside of normal business hours.

You, however, knew keeping this place open was senseless, barely seeing more than a few unenthusiastic customers in these agonizingly slow stretches. Working on commission also made you all the more bitter about being paid minimum wage to stand behind a counter and doodle sketches of imaginary clients dressed in the outfits you personally tailored. This isn’t where you thought a Bachelor of Arts in Fashion Design would take you, that’s for sure.

“H-hello,” you heard a deep voice quietly greet you, startling you into focus. “Are you busy? I… think I need a little help.”

Eyes flickering up from the notepad, you were sure your pupils blew wide at the sight of the man in front of you. Standing at an imposingly large height, his hair a severely murky shade of black, with honeyed irises shining brightly behind delicate spectacles.

A human personification of tall, dark and handsome. Well, except for the clothes.

The stranger wore the layered combination of a grey tweed jacket and argyle patterned sweater, arranged over a particularly heinous, mustard-coloured button up. While the ensemble made you internally cringe, it gave him an air of intelligence, like the kind that hangs around stuffy, old college professors who have more academic accolades than you have fingers and toes.

“Me?” you coughed out, knowing full well you were the only other person in this tiny little shop. “Uh, yeah. I mean- No, no I’m not busy. What is it you need help with?” Even when you stood, the man towered above you, making you silently begin to calculate the high-numbered measurements you’d need to fit him in something.

“I have an important meeting scheduled for Friday. You know, the type you need to wear a suit to?” Evidently the thought of it made him nervous, as you noticed his cheek twitch slightly, his eyes scanning momentarily at the garments filling the space. “I’m… uh… not so great with clothes.”

Clearly, you chuckled inside your head, holding the word from your tongue. “You want me to pick out something for you?”

He took a defeated breath, his mouth twisting into an awkward yet wonderfully endearing smile. “Would you mind? Only if it’s not too much trouble.”

“No trouble!” you burst, maybe a little too excitedly. “It’s my job!” Bounding out from behind the counter you’d been imprisoned by, you moved directly to the section of classic navy business suits. Slim line. Something to accentuate his well-built frame, rather than hide it away. You had to pause, swivelling back around to the dumbfounded man. “Is price an issue… uh…?”

“Paul,” he answered for you, slowly moving to where you stood. “And… I suppose not. Probably should spend the money on something that will last. If you think it’s a good idea.”

Oh thank god, you mused without showing the relief on your face. He’s not some rich asshole trying to flash his cash. “A good suit can last you five years, if you treat it right.” Your hand reached over to graze one of the deepened blue sleeves of a jacket at your left. “And a classic colour will never go out of style.”

Paul let out an embarrassed chuckle. “I think you’ve already noticed how lacking in style I am…” He glanced to your nametag, murmuring your name with a goofy smirk curling his lips. You’d never seen a grown man, especially not one of this stature, appear so adorable. It was horribly distracting.

“I’m sure you have expertise in other areas,” you stumbled, realizing only when the words came out how offensive they might seem. Yet Paul conceded to your comment, his rumbling laugh making your chest feel tight.

“Debatable,” he shrugged. “I’m just glad I found some qualified personnel to help me in this instance.”

Oh boy. Humble and charming? You were in so much trouble. Surely someone as sweet as this had another waiting for them at home. “I’m sure your partner could help you pick out something nice too.”

“Not an option in my case.”

Shit. Single too. You were truly fucked.

You turned, trying to calm your erratic heartbeat by focusing on finding an outfit that would contain his longer limbs. Plucking out a matching jacket and trouser set, with an ivory, collared button-up, you offered them to Paul, his features having melted into a sweetened look of intrigue. “Go and try these on. There’s a changeroom just behind the counter. See how they feel, and we can go from there.”

He nodded, taking the pieces with both of his large hands and shuffling away to where you’d pointed to. No sooner than the latch had locked were you dashing to where your phone was sitting at the register, flitting out a rushed text message to your favourite co-worker.

There was rustling you heard emanating from the changeroom stall, doing your best to ignore the urge of picturing Paul, a man you’d met only minutes ago, gradually slipping off his clothes to reveal the toned muscles underneath. You grimaced at yourself, shaking your head to banish the imaginations. God this was unprofessional.

Finally, a response lit up on your phone screen.

You laughed softly through your nose, about to type a reply when you heard the lock click open again. The breath in your lungs was stuck as Paul made his way out, the expensive textiles draping over his burly frame in a way that made your whole body tense.

He rustled a hand through his hair, looking up to you while fidgeting with the starchy material stretched over his chest. “Does it look okay?”

After all these years working this job, the enticing novelty of attractive men in well-fitted suits had slowly worn off, especially when most of them treated you with about as much respect as the used gum they spit out onto the sidewalk. Suddenly, all those preconceived notions were gone. On Paul, this ensemble instantly became the most captivating thing in the entire universe.

The inside of your mouth flooded with saliva, having to swallow hard before speaking again. “Great… it looks… great.” You did your best to conceal a settling exhale. “What do you think? How does it feel?”

Paul shifted to look at his reflection in the mirror, pupils trailing up and down, flexing his limbs in an attempt to get a proper impression of the new apparel. “It feels really good. Makes me look… sophisticated.” He turned to you, his expression unsure. “Right?”

Your smile was sparkling, nodding to his question. There was a small amount of work to do, noting how in your effort to make sure everything complemented his physique, you’d oversized him. The waistline of the jacket needed to be taken in, the shoulder lines sitting slightly off, and the trouser length needing to be taken up slightly. “A couple of adjustments and it’ll be perfect.”

“You mean taking it to be tailored?”

“No need.” You pulled out the wheel of berry pins from your pocket, kneeling down on the floor next to Paul’s feet. “All our tailoring is included in the price. Done completely in house.” You began to fold the bottom edge of his pants, pinning it to an adequate length. “I can have it ready for you tomorrow, all ready for your Friday meeting.”

“You do all the tailoring yourself?” Paul asked as you slinked another pin through the fabric.

“Sure do,” you chirped, moving onto the other leg. “3 years at a design school taught me a few things about cutting and sewing.” With the hemlines in place, you straightened in front of him, plucking out a roll of measuring tape from your other pocket. “I just… need to take a few measurements to properly alter the jacket.”

His cheek twitched, the line of his jaw seeming somewhat strained. “Sure. F-fine. Do what you gotta do."

You went with determining his arm length first, feeling out the boney point of his shoulder and striping the lined tape all the way down to his wrist. Then, after taking a deep inhale, you curled your arms around his hips, focusing hard on the little black numbers to ignore the fact Paul’s breath had started to skate over your skin with this close proximity. It was when you were lining up the thickened stripes indicating his chest circumference that you made the mistake of peering up, finding his alluring stare fully concentrated on you.

There was a moment. A spark to waiting kindling. Where impulse could have led you to do a dangerous thing. You’d never been the hasty type, never acted without considerable thought. Usually so shy and composed, never making the first move. Although right now, you could scarcely hold yourself back, desperate to know the sensation of Paul’s lips, how they’d move over yours, what they tasted like.

No. This was so inappropriate.

The compulsion was about to wither away when you felt a hand skim up your waist, the lightened touch shooting a thrill over your skin.

“Excuse me,” a gruff voice called from your side. “How much are these dress socks?”

You immediately stepped back, smacked into reality again. “$12.99. Exactly what it says on the box.”

The older gentlemen scrutinized the packaging, lids narrowed until he finally saw the numbers plastered at the border. “Oh, right. Eh, a little expensive for my taste. Thanks anyway.”

Flustered, you began to coil the measuring tape into its resting spiral, forcefully glaring at the floor. “I’m all done. You can get dressed into your own clothes now.”

In your periphery you saw Paul regarding you with a gentle nod, walking back into the changeroom without another word. Every part of you wanted to sink beneath the wooden floorboards, so horrendously embarrassed you could feel a smoldering heat prickle at your cheeks. Only to relieve some of the nervous energy, you ran to your phone.

Again, Paul was exiting out of the stall just as you were going to submit your reply, placing the neatly arranged garments over the counter. It was difficult to look directly at him, having to summon all remaining shards of your courage to drift your eyes up to his face. “Was there anything else you needed?”

His mouth parted, only to quickly snap shut, scratching at his hairline in the seconds it took for him to give you a response. “No. Nothing else. Unless there’s something more you think I need.”

You shook your head, wishing you could give another answer just to keep him here. “You’re all set.” The full price of his items flashed on the monitor in front of you, spouting it to him as your fingers flicked across the keyboard to finalize the purchase, with a personal discount that wouldn’t show on the receipt.

“When should I come by to pick it up?” he queried, passing you his credit card. “Oh, but there’s no pressure. Whenever you have the time is just fine.”

An idea flared. “If you give me your number, I can text you when it’s ready.”

“That works for me.”

Erasing all evidence of the conversation you’d been having, you brought up the number pad, handing your phone over. Paul swiftly typed in his details before placing it back in your palm. ‘Paul the Suit Guy’ the contact read, unable to stifle your laugh.  

“So I’ll see you tomorrow?” His eager expression made your heart quiver through a beat.

“Y-yeah,” you stammered. “I’ll see you then.”

Paul waved his hand in an awkward flourish to signal his goodbye, eventually moving far enough from your vision for you to finally take a full, relaxed breath. In a dazed hurry, you keyed in your returning message to your co-worker.

It was the precise moment your thumb had pressed into the ‘Send’ button that you realised your recipient wasn’t the one you’d intended.

You’d sent this message straight to Paul.

Fuck. Oh fuck. This was bad.

While you were scrambling to formulate a believable excuse, a new message popped up onto the screen.

Tags for my lovelies who might tolerate this nonsense: @tlcwrites @roanniom @princessxkenobi @hopeamarsu @blowthatpieceofjunk @mariesackler @leatherboundriot @foxilayde @modernpaw @cornmousequeen @direnightshade @safarigirlsp @blackberries45 @mylifeisactuallyamess @caillea @jynzandtonic @beskarbabs​

[outivv]

So,,,The Boys lose their coat and can't find it anywhere, but what they don't know is that their crush decided to steal it when they weren't looking and decides to wear it for the whole day. Then in the evening, they meet each other for the usual dinner, and The Boys notice that they have their coat. They ask them why they have it, and their crush just says," Well I'm always thinking about you, and I wanted to have something that reminded me of you with me."

Synopsis: y/n takes one of the tall boys coats for the day.

Warnings: none!

Game/ fandom: genshin impact

Characters: zhongli, childe, kaeya, Diluc, and Dainsleif

Pronouns for reader: gender neutral/ not mentioned

A/n: hello! I’m always really happy to get these requests from you because they’re always so cute, and a lot of fun to write! I had to ponder about this one for a while, so sorry it took me a bit to get it finalized, but as always I hope you enjoy and have a amazing day/afternoon/evening!

— zhongli —

Note: it’s a very minor detail I slipped in, but you work at wangsheng funeral parlor.

Zhongli looked everywhere for his coat before leaving for work, but to no avail. It was only going to be a minor inconvenience if he didn’t have it, so he dealt without it for the day. He was looking forward to having dinner with you anyway, so having a lost coat wasn’t going to ruin that for him.

Speaking of his dinner date with you! When he arrived he saw you wearing his coat. His first thought was “how... how did they get it?” Because he always has his coat with him. He’ll ask you, and you simply say that he left it at work when you were working late, filling something out for a client last minute.

The night continued as normal until you were handing his coat back to him, as you did so you said, “you know... I really like your coat. It’s something that makes it feel like you’re with me even when you’re not.”

To say the least he ended up with a dusting of blush on his face, and a warm smile directed towards you. He let you keep his coat for a while longer, and he truly felt as though he was in love with you.

— childe —

Stealing childes coat in the first place was... difficulty to say the least. He always, and I mean always had it with him. Especially in snezhnaya. Then it was even more difficult.

So when he was looking for it while getting ready in the morning, you stealing it was impossible in his mind. It was the last thing he would think of. Thus, when he saw you with his coat at dinner, he had to congratulate you on successfully sneaking his coat away from him.

Though you only laughed and said, “well it wasn’t that hard? You forgot to take it with you after your visit yesterday?” Oh yeah... he did do that. He then asked you why you held onto it and you said, “to be honest... it’s a warm reminder that you’re with me. I apologize for not returning it sooner, but nonetheless thank you for... unknowingly lending me your coat.”

Childe could feel his heart hammering in his chest, and his face turning hot. He found you to be so kind, and you could never fail to make him weak in the knees, and flustered for you. Surely, he could survive the harsh cold in snezhnaya without his coat right? If anything he could just buy another.

— Diluc —

It was a cold morning in mondstadt, and Diluc needed to head into angels share to do a few things before they opened for the day. Sadly, his coat was nowhere to be seen! Ah well... it can’t be that bad right? Wrong. At least the tavern was nice and warm right? Wrong. It was cold in there too! All day he was freezing!

He was feeling frustrated as he made his way to where you planned to meet for diner, and as he made his way over to you... he saw you, with his coat on! He was freezing all day so you could be comfortable?! He was honestly kinda upset, but when you greeted him with a smile and a wave his anger subsided, and he only sighed sitting down at the table.

“Diluc! I’m glad you could make it! I know it was cold today and uh... thank you for letting me barrow your coat...” you said your confidence and excitement turning into a sheepish thank you. He only grunted, as he was still a bit... frustrated. “I mean you’re coats super warm, and a reminder of you, so genuinely... thank you.”

His eyes turned wide, and he felt the tips of his ears becoming hot. “Yeah... it’s fine. The cold wasn’t as bad as it seemed, so I managed” he said lying straight to your face. You saw behind his failed attempt at a facade and said, “hm... well I’m glad it wasn’t too bad.” Your warm, and happy smile made you for the freezing temperatures all day.

— kaeya —

Kaeya had a mission today, and he needed his coat! But he couldn’t find it anywhere... just his luck. Fine. He’ll go without it then.

Coming back from a successful, yet difficult mission he made his way to good hunter for a scheduled dinner date with you. Seeing the familiar shades of his coat, he smiled knowing you’ve taken it.

He sneaked begins you, and startled you by saying, “I like your coat. Wonder where you got it from? Mind sharing the designer?” In a teasing tone. “Archons kaeya! Holy... ugh you scared me!” You said surprised by the sudden appearance of the cavalry captain.

He apologized sitting down at the table, and teased you again about the coat saying, “truly is a magnificent coat. I wish I had one for myself! Oh wait... I think I do, but I couldn’t find it today. Care to explain why?” His goofy grin only grew as he rested his head on his hand awaiting your response.

“Well... I took it because I always think about you.” You said sinking down as if you could hide your reddened face from the all knowing man I’m front of you “and I wanted something to remind me of you when you’re gone...”

Truly not the answer Kaeya was expecting, but to be fair he never knew what to expect from you. He could feel his own face heating up a bit as he said, “well in that case... I suppose you could keep it for a while. I do have some knights stuff to take care of, so I won’t be able to see you for a while. So take care of it for me will you?”

— Dainsleif —

Waking up without yes coat, Dainsleif knew one place that it could’ve gone. He had a sneaking suspicion that it was with you this whole time, so he knew it couldn’t have gone too far.

His suspicion was confirmed later on though, when he met you for dinner. He saw the all to familiar patterns on his coat, and it made you stick out like a sore thumb.

“So I see I was correct. You did steal my coat.” He said with a smile as he sat down at the table slightly startling you with his sudden appearance. “Oh! Uh... yes... I’m sorry!” You said worrying that he might be mad at you.

He chuckled a bit saying, “no, no it’s alright. I didn’t miss it too much. I knew it was in safe hands” his happy smile ignited sparks in your heart, and you said, “I think about you a lot you know... so that’s why I took your coat. As a reminder that you’re with me.. I hope it wasn’t too much of an inconvenience.”

Dainsleif felt butterflies in his stomach at your kind words. He didn’t know how to react, but he wanted to say something. He took your hands in his, and said, “I’ll make sure to be around more often, so that won’t be a problem.” He kissed your hand as a way of promising that he’ll be true to his word.

[babbushka]

Beyond Reasonable Doubt (ch.2)

–      A Lawyer AU      –

You and Kylo Ren have hated one another for as long as you can remember. He, a criminal prosecutor, and you, a defense attorney should be natural-born enemies, and you are. But when Kylo comes to you seeking representation after being charged for a murder he didn’t commit, you both learn a thing or two about life, the law, and love…

[5.8k, cw: mentions of murder, NSFW: PIV, fingering, biting/marking, possessive hate-fucking]

Available on AO3

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

It feels as though the world has stopped. Time and space have come to a standstill, as you stare at him. Slightly, ever so gently, you pinch the back of your thigh because surely this must be a dream. You must have slept through your alarm – he’s not really there behind that pane of glass.

He can’t be.

Kylo smiles at you, an exhausted sort of smile, like he hasn’t slept in days. He shrugs his shoulders, too broad for the jumpsuit they’ve put him in. You pinch yourself again, but the sting of pain doesn’t jolt you awake in your bedroom, and so before you can do anything at all, you calmly hang the phone up on the wall and turn to the guard that has escorted you to this room, demanding with as much professional conviction as you can muster:

“Get me a private room with my client.”

There were perks to being this high up on the food chain, as it were. Not only did everyone know you, but they mostly trusted you. Trusted you enough to lead you down a hallway and around a corner, nothing but bleak grey and off-white walls passing you by, linoleum under your feet. You recognize these rooms from your previous dealings with Rikers, but never in a million years – a billion years – did you ever fucking think you’d be in one of these with Kylo.

He’s wearing orange, neon and bright. A number is splashed across the back in black paint, and you hate it. You hate him so fucking much, hate how he could have been so stupid to get himself in here. The second the guard closes the door, you’re crossing the small room to get close to him.

Kylo misinterprets your meaning, and as he closes his eyes and puckers his lips, anger flares up through you and you can’t help yourself from doing what your first instinct had been – smacking him across the face.

“Hey!” Kylo scowls, eyes snapping open as he brings his cupped hands up to his cheek to soothe the stinging skin.

Immediately you are on the prowl, stalking him around and around the room.

“What the fuck did you do?” Your breath comes in harsh pants as your mind reels with the implications of why he’s here, “I ignore you for two fucking days and you wind up in jail? Are you insane?”

“Sweetheart – ” Kylo puts his hands up in front of his face, trying to deflect another irritated smack, but you only swat at his hands instead, before clenching your jaw and practically backing him into the corner of the room.

“No, fuck you! You don’t get to call me sweetheart. I’m supposed to be in a meeting right now getting a goddamned promotion and instead I’m sitting here with some dipshit who couldn’t handle his liquor?” Exasperated, you run a hand through your hair.

“Would you just listen to me -- ?”

“Let’s see, what did you in? Was it that big mouth of yours? I saw the photos in the paper, you looked like you were yelling at them. Kylo you know better than to provoke already pissed off cops!”

“They’re charging me with murder.”

Kylo’s voice cuts through the tension in the room, and the air rushes out of your lungs. You remain frozen exactly where you’re standing, your noses nearly touching, your hands fisted in his orange jumpsuit like you’re some schoolyard bully about to lift him off his feet to demand his lunch money.

Your hands only clench tighter in the scratchy rough fabric, but for the first time in a long time, it isn’t anger that spikes through you, it’s fear.

“Excuse me?” Is all you can manage, your eyes searching his, knowing that if he’s joking, you’ll knee him so hard in the balls that the Skywalker bloodline will end with him.

He holds your gaze steady, and your throat closes because he’s telling the truth.

“In the first degree.” Kylo replies, and only then do you release him, your mind spiraling.

You move to sit down at the table in the center of the room, missing the way his hands reach for you. Head pounding, you point at the chair opposite the table. Kylo sits without a word, his face drawn in a frown, his teeth grinding. You’ve always reminded him not to do that, to unclench his jaw and unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth, but you find that you’d be a hypocrite to say that now.

“Who?”

“My grandfather.”

“Did you do it?”

Kylo reacts to that question like you’ve slapped him again – he recoils physically from it, nose scrunching up as he bares his teeth at you like some wild thing, so very unlike the Prosecutor you knew. This must have really rattled him, and you’re almost sorry for asking, but it’s a question you have to ask nonetheless.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Kylo hisses, “Did you seriously just ask me that question?”

“Yeah, I did.” You reply, repeating yourself with a level, “Did you?”

“No I didn’t fucking kill my own grandfather.” He scoffs, “I’m being framed, obviously.”

You can’t help but let a small smile begin to creep up at the corner of your mouth, only Kylo could say something with that much gravity so flippantly. You look at him, and he looks at you, really looks at you. In all the years that you’ve known Kylo, you don’t think you’ve ever really looked him in the eye for very long, one of you always pulling away after a moment.

But now, in the quiet of this private room, there is nothing stopping you from staring at him for as long as you’d like. His eyes are brown, but they’re a strange sort of brown, the kind that looks light from within under the fluorescents. Even in the ugly color of the room and the jumpsuit, he’s handsome, something you positively abhor him for. It shouldn’t be fair, for a prisoner to be so handsome, you think.

You’re reminded briefly of that morning, when he brought you croissants with the jam that you like, when the two of you chuckled softly in the light of morning and kissed the fruity flavor of raspberries and the sweet snap of chocolate off one another’s lips.

God, how you fucking hate him.

“Can you prove that you’re being framed?” You ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes.” He whispers back, looking too vulnerable for your liking as his eyes shine, as he clasps his hands in front of you and says something that you never thought would come out of his mouth, “Will you help me?”

Part of you wants to say no.

Part of you wants to pound your fist on the table and leave, because dammit you should be thrilled about this. Kylo is the man who has caused you more stress than anything in your life, more than the LSATs or the BAR, more than the first time you ever stepped foot in a courtroom, even more than that time you had been chosen to speak at your cousin’s wedding. He is the only person you have ever lost a case to, he is the only person who has ever broken your win streak and your resolve, and he gloats about it.

You should be gloating about this, you should shove this right in his face the way he shoves everything into yours. Instead, you sigh, try to calm your frazzled nerves, and in a halfway defeated voice ask, “When’s the preliminary hearing?”

“Already had it – plead not-guilty, it’s going to trial and bail is set at a million dollars.” Kylo shocks you by answering, and you frown at him.

“You already had the preliminary hearing?” You suddenly feel very small, almost offended by that. Having the hearing meant he technically already had representation, especially if he already got a trial motion and a bail, which means he asked someone before he asked you.

“Well someone wasn’t answering her fucking phone!” Kylo can sense your mood shift at once, and he rushes to say it before you can even get your mouth opened fully to scoff,

“If you already have a goddamned lawyer then why are you wasting my time – ”

“Do you think I want your help?” Kylo snaps, once again sucking all the air out of your lungs as his face gets red, as his teeth bare once again, the vein in his neck thick and pulsing. “You think I want you to see me like this? You think I want you to have enough to gloat about for the rest of your life? No, so I’d appreciate it if you’d not be such a bitch about everything for once.”

“Why am I here, Kylo?” You whisper, wondering who is representing him. It’s probably his cousin, Rey, or maybe his business associate, Hux.

You want to fight him on it, but at the end of the day he would be right. You didn’t answer his calls.

Kylo looks away, a deep crimson blush blooming angrily across his face. It splotches over his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, as he lets out a pent up breath in a deep sigh that has his shoulders sagging.

“Because you’re the only person I trust to do this right.” He says truthfully, even though he hates himself for it, “You’re the only person who can. This is the rest of my life that’s at stake, I need the best attorney I can get, and that’s you. Let’s not pretend otherwise.”

Kylo wasn’t one to give out declarations like this, compliments like that. You decide not to push the issue, not now anyway, when you’re both clearly in such a bad mood.

It’s hard seeing him like this, hard thinking of him as anything other than the pain in your ass that he was. He wasn’t just Kylo now, he was a client, a high profile client with a murder charge sitting heavy on his shoulders. And you’re the only one he trusts to help him.

“Did you post bail?” You ask, knowing he has that kind of money.

“I’m working on it, it should be in sometime today.” He replies with a nod, and you nod back.

Getting up from the chair in the table, you bite at your lip. Kylo does the gentlemanly thing and stands out of respect for you, before taking a few measured steps over to you. He looks around, makes sure there’s no cameras hidden in the space, makes sure there’s no one watching.

Very carefully, ever so slowly, he leans forward and closes his eyes, his nose gently rubbing against yours. You want to kiss him, but you know you can’t, not here, not while he’s in custody like this.

“When you’re out, and whenever you’re ready, give me a call.” You whisper, and he smiles one of those cheshire cat grins of his that show off all his crooked teeth.

“Will you answer this time?” His lips ghost over yours, just barely, just a hint.

“I’ll answer.” You pull away, leaving him huffing and puffing and frustrated.

Good, you think. Let him be frustrated, if there was one thing you were certain of, it was that this case was going to age you nearly a decade from the looks of it – and you didn’t even know anything yet. Just knowing it was Kylo that the world is up against is enough.

You gather your things and brush past him to the door, knowing you’ll be seeing him again very soon, possibly even that evening, depending on how quickly the process his bail. Maybe you’d put in a good word with the office for him, get him a little higher on the priority list.

Giving the door a gentle knock to let the guard know you’re finished, the two of you wait as the locks shift and turn.

“And for the record,” You say, when the door swings open and they begin to usher Kylo back to his holding cell, you look him dead in the eye and swallow your pride to tell him, “I would’ve taken your case no matter what.”

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

Neisha is waiting for you with a fresh cup of coffee in one of those disposable paper cups, and even though it tastes like shit, it’s still a calming balm on your nerves. You thank her for it and the two of you sign out through visitation, walking the way you had come to go back to the car.

“Who was it?” She can’t help but ask, curiosity in her voice.

“Who do you think?” You groan, downing another gulp of the watery caffeine, “Our favorite asshole.”

Neisha stops in her tracks at that, surprise written all over her face. Part of you wonders how she hadn’t recognized his voice over the phone, but then again, maybe you were the only one who cared enough about the deep baritone of his to notice it.

“No way!” Still, she’s shocked, and that shock turns to confusion almost at once, “He wound up in Rikers over a DUI?”

You sigh, and shake your head, chugging the rest of your coffee. You used to down two pots of the stuff a day in law school, and now nothing ever seemed strong enough. Even chain coffee didn’t hit right anymore, everywhere either burned their beans or under brewed, it was a mess. A million coffee shops in Manhattan and the only good cup of joe was the kind Kylo made for you. The bastard.

“If only it were that simple.” You chew on your lip, the two of you finally approaching the company car that’s been waiting for you the whole time. “Do you want to stop anywhere on the way back to work? Part of me is dreading facing Holdo.”

“She’s called you three times.” Neisha winces, holding out your phone for you to take. You had to leave it behind before going back to see your client, and so of course you left it with her.

“Voicemail?” You almost are too afraid to ask, but you bite the bullet anyway.

“One.” She confirms, and you groan.

“Great.”

“Are you going to listen to it?” Neisha raises a brow while she watches you slip the phone into your purse, decidedly choosing to ignore it in favor of finding a better cup of coffee somewhere.

“No.” You chuckle, explaining, “We’ll be back soon enough, if she’s going to bitch at me, I want it to be in person where I can bitch back.”

“Maybe we can pick up lunch for everyone.” She suggests cheerfully, “No one can be too mad when you’re bringing them food.”

At just that moment, your stomach growls, and you cast a glance up to the sky wondering how you ever got so lucky to have a mind-reader as an assistant. She only smiles at you, and you smile back, letting her know, “I love the way you think.”

In the end, you decide to skip out on the rest of the day of work entirely. By the time you and your assistant had ordered and picked up food for the office, it was almost three o’clock, and you knew that there was no point in trying to get anything done when you had already been scheduled to leave at five. Mondays were a waste of time as it were, you decided you’d just go in early and stay late tomorrow to make up for the time.

Giving your assistant the rest of the day off too, you retreated back to your apartment and tugged your clothing off. You had a strict rule about keeping outside clothes away from your bedroom, and it was a relief to change into something less professional and far more comfortable. Not quite pajamas, because it was early enough in the day still and you weren’t completely giving up on the evening just yet, but still comfortable.

You wondered what Kylo would change into when he got home, wondered if he’d take a long hot shower, or a deep soak in the tub to scrub prison off of him. He hadn’t been there long, but it didn’t take long to shake a man up, even a man as tough as Kylo. Guilt ate at you inside, if only you hadn’t been so stubborn, and adamant in your misery to ignore the world…maybe you could’ve sweet talked the judge into letting him stay on house arrest or something.

If you hadn’t been so stubborn, maybe Kylo never would have gotten himself drunk and angry, driving around town and getting himself arrested. Not that you could really blame yourself for that, you were perfectly in your rights to be pissed off with him for winning against you. And if he was framed like he says he was, then they would have had a warrant for him anyway.

But still, it eats at you.

You groan, smacking a hand to your forehead – the DUI isn’t going to look good to a jury, not at all. Especially if the police think the murder happened that day, that was going to cause him trouble, and by extension, you. He needed to have a rock solid alibi, and as much as you hated it, if he was so plastered as to get pulled over, he might not remember where he was or what he was doing. That was going to give him trouble too.

Speak of the Devil, you can’t help but think, as your phone rings. You pick it up right on the second buzz, recognizing the caller ID and smiling to yourself about it.

“Kylo?” You say stupidly, because you know who it is. You just like to make sure, want to know that it’s him.

“Hey sweetheart, go outside.” He answers, and you frown, your heart-rate spiking.

“You have a key, let yourself in.” You scoot over on the couch enough to peek out through the living room window, looking down the ten stories to see his shiny black car indeed parked on the curb, flashers on.

“No, it’s just my car, we’re going out to dinner.” Kylo chuckles, and you frown.

“Right now?” It was barely half past four o’clock, it wasn’t even time for the early bird dinner specials yet at most of the diners around the block.

“Right now, put on something nice.” He instructs, before hanging up.

You blink in surprise for a few seconds, before springing into action. Curse that insufferable man! If only he could think far enough in advance to warn a woman before sending the car, you bounce the thought around in your head. You quickly brush your teeth while you step out of your sweatpants, tug the t-shirt over your head.

Wondering what the world record is for getting dressed for a surprise dinner date, you throw on something elegant, really dressing to the nines. Not having much time to do anything with your hair, you put it up in a style that you hope looks purposefully messy as opposed to just sloppy, and you clasp on subtle yet expensive jewelry.

You almost wish you had timed yourself as you spray a few squirts of perfume, slip on some heels and dash out the door, grateful for the fact that you live in an upscale enough apartment that you don’t have to worry about getting your shoes caught in the grates of a stairwell, taking the shiny polished elevator for a ride.

Kylo’s driver is waiting for you next to the car, and when he sees you, he straightens up his posture, squares his slim shoulders. The kid wasn’t more than nineteen or twenty, but he was nice, and you knew he was family, and it was always a pleasure to see him.

“Hi Dopheld, it’s been a while.” You smile at him as he opens the back door for you, giving you a hand to balance yourself as you securely settle in.

“Hey (Y/N), how have you been?” Dopheld is soft spoken and kind, a very gentle soul. How he manages to deal with Kylo’s road rage, you’ll never know, but you’re glad that it’s him picking you up and not his boss.

“Better than you I bet.” You chuckle as he closes the door and rounds the car. When he’s back in his driver’s spot and pulls out onto the road, curiosity gets the better of you so you ask, “Where are we going?”

“Del Frisco’s, you know Kylo.” Dopheld’s eye meets yours in the rearview mirror, and you let out an exasperated sigh.

“That man and his steak, oy.” You mutter to yourself with a roll of your eyes, admiring your reflection in the glass of the window.

“Well you can’t blame him, he’s been eating prison food for the past four days.” Dopheld shudders at the mere thought of it, and you sigh.

“He really was in there all weekend, huh?” You feel that guilt again, it rises like acid up into your throat.

“I’m surprised you didn’t know, it was all over the news.” Dopheld’s eyebrows raise, and you sigh.

“I uh,” You clear your throat, trying to find some way to not tell this kid that you threw something of a temper tantrum over losing your case, “I didn’t really pay much attention to anything these past few days.”

Somehow, even though you didn’t say it, Dopheld seems to know anyway.

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

Del Frisco’s is a real swanky place just shy of Times Square, and undoubtedly one of Kylo’s favorite places to eat. He’s got a host of restaurants he likes, but there’s something about a well-cooked steak that can’t be beat, he’s told you this too many times. Just about every time he’s had a steak at Del Frisco’s, anyway. It’s a three story tall building, and a dress code, and if there was one thing Kylo loved more than steak, it was an excuse to put on his expensive suits, his nice shoes.

He hasn’t said so, but you have a sneaking suspicion he likes an excuse to see you all dolled up too, which is just what you are, as you step out of his car at five o’clock on that Monday in January, bundled up in a coat that you can’t wait to dramatically remove in front of him.

“I’m meeting a Mr. Ren.” You say quietly to the host, who recognizes both you and the name you give her at once.

“Right this way.” She invites you further into the restaurant, up a flight of stairs to a secluded corner of the floor that overlooks the main level.

Kylo stands when he sees you, looks utterly mesmerized by you. Good, you can’t help but feel pleased, you like the attention, like the way he gives it to you. He’s pulled out all the stops himself as it would seem; a custom tailored Gucci suit in rich brown, with deep green and burgundy stripes running down the length of it that makes him look impossibly taller than he is.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wonder if all your teasing about his solid black suits day in and day out finally got through to him. He wears a beige turtleneck underneath for warmth, and his hair is smartly styled. You want to run your fingers through it, want to muss him up for all the trouble he puts you through.

“I like you better like this.” You say teasingly, playfully, “Orange isn’t your color.”

“I like you better like this too,” Kylo chuckles back, carefully slipping your fur coat off your shoulders, revealing the dress that hugs your body and shows off all the assets you’re proud of, “When you aren’t smacking me.”

“Don’t tempt me.” You smile, taking a seat opposite him at the small circular table.

“Thank you for coming.” Kylo says, and you roll your eyes.

“You didn’t give me much choice, did you?” You point out, he gave you no notice at all, no option to opt out, not that you would have.

Sitting across from you, you can feel the way his shiny polished dress shoe nudges up against your heel, a purposeful invitation that you pretend to ignore just to rile him up. You like getting him annoyed, just as much as he likes annoying you.

“No, but you do always have one.” Kylo pours you a glass of something bubbly, and hands it to you with a soft, “You look lovely.”

“I already agreed to take your case, Kylo, you don’t have to lay it on thick.” You shake your head, accepting the glass. He was so charming, too charming for his own good. This was how he wound up in situations like being charged for murder, that charm of his.

“Maybe I want to.” Kylo shrugs, “Maybe I missed complimenting you.”

“Go ahead then.” You lean back against the chair for a moment, your arms crossing over your chest, an eyebrow raised.

“I love when you wear this dress, your body is dynamite in it.” He settles on, “Makes my mouth water.”

“Are you sure that’s not just the steak talking?” You take a sip of the drink, and he groans in the back of his throat, ripping a piece of fresh bread off the loaf and dipping it into a small plate of oil.

“Remind me never to go to jail again.” He mutters, “Imagine spending the rest of your life there.”

“No thanks to you, too many of my clients don’t have to imagine, now do they?” That strikes a nerve in you, and you’re suddenly reminded of the way the last case really went down, the implications for that poor man, probably in Rikers himself for a crime he didn’t commit.

“Hey – ” Like lightning, Kylo reaches out and grabs your wrist, preventing you from getting up and leaving, afraid of you bolting away, “I’m sorry.”

“What?” You blink, stunned.

“I’m sorry, I mean it.” He rushes to say, “I’m sorry. But you have to know that I’m only doing my job, when I do that. Same way that you do yours when you let guilty men walk free.”

It’s the first time he’s ever apologized to you…about anything. You’ve known him for years and years, and this is the first time he’s ever uttered those words. Jail must have really fucked with him, if he’s apologizing to you.

“I know, but it still sucks.” You eventually say, not moving your hand at all.

“Stay with me? Have dinner, I already ordered.” Kylo licks his lips, eyes dark, glittering.

“Most women don’t like you assuming their order.” You find it important to mention.

“You’re not most women.” He counters, and well, you can’t deny him that.

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

Hours later he’s stumbling with you through the hallway of his apartment, kicking his shoes off and unclasping your gown desperately, kissing you deeply, his nose bumping against yours as he hungrily sucks on your tongue, hands groping at you. You lead him to the bedroom, your eyes closed, going off intuition alone.

It’s dark in the apartment, the lux lavish thing, rent probably four times what you pay for your already expensive place. No, knowing Kylo he owns the fucking penthouse, that’s just like him, isn’t it. You smack into a wall accidentally, and he laughs, and you laugh too, before you’re both moaning, trying with all your might to get into his bed.

“I’m not doing any of the fucking work tonight.” You gasp and moan against his mouth as he shoves you down onto the mattress, wrenches your legs open with his warm broad palms.

There’s a fireplace in his bedroom that he turns on with the press of a button, filling the room with an ethereal quality that bathes you both in an orange glow.

“When do you ever do any of the work?” Kylo grunts against your throat as he kisses down down down the length of your body, his hands kneading in the flesh of your thighs. You’re too desperate to come to snap back at the remark, so you let it slide, especially as he begins to shove two fingers into your cunt, thick and hot, “Let me take care of you, just take it, I know you can take it sweetheart.”

You squirm under the intrusion, too tight. Trying to relax for him, you breathe deeply, your voice shaky shuddery on the exhale. Already your toes are curling as you let your head fall back against his pillow, your back arching as he stretches you open, determined and focused to bring you pleasure, to get you ready for him.

Kylo sucks on your hip, at the spot where your thigh joins it, that crease there that he loves to run his tongue over over over, his thumb rubbing rough circles on your swollen clit. He pulls back enough to spit on it, right on your pussy, not that you need any help, you’re practically dripping for him.

“Kylo, fuck, forget it just give me your cock.” You grow impatient, shifting your hips around, nudging the side of his jaw with your knee when he leans up to look at you.

“You sure?” He’s transfixed with the sight of his own fingers disappearing into your folds, but he’s already pulling out, his cock hard and heavy, aching and throbbing for the hot wet tightness of your cunt.

“Yes I’m sure, just fuck me, fuck me hard?” You pat at his shoulder, and he nods, scrambles up your body and covers you like a blanket, warm and wide and strong. If he weren’t such a fucking asshole, you think you might like him.

But that’s not what this was, this was something you both agreed on a long time ago – a no strings attached arrangement, fucking out frustration and pent up aggression that otherwise was exploding all over the courtroom. This wasn’t anything more than an excuse to relieve some tension, since you two were the only people in your caliber, the only two you could trust to do it right and not mess anything up.

“I fuckin’ missed this pussy, missed the way she stretches for me, god you look so good getting stuffed full.” Kylo moans as he presses the head of his cock through your folds, chasing the heat.

Your pussy sucks him in, swallows him down as it clenches around him, your body thrumming with pleasure as he bottoms out in one swift thrust. You egg him on, throw your arms around his neck and pull him down close close close, your mouth open for him to kiss.

“Oh!” You gasp when he starts to thrust in earnest, grabbing the headboard for leverage as he rails you hard, “Yes, right there! Come on give me more!”

His dick drags against your gspot perfectly, and your legs lift to wrap around his waist, holding on to him tightly, your hands scratching up his shoulders. He is relentless, dangerous, dark with his desire as he makes your mind white out, makes your vision go spotty as he shakes shakes shakes the bed, the frame creaking and groaning under your sweaty bodies.

“Greedy whore, that’s what you are isn’t it? My greedy girl. I bet you missed my cock, didn’t you?” Kylo grunts, grabs a hold of your jaw with one of his hands and sticks his fingers in your mouth, leans down to kiss your cheek. He bites at it, bites at your face like an animal and you lose yourself in the pleasure of being so consumed.

“No,” You lie, not wanting him to have the satisfaction of knowing you got yourself off angrily to the thought of him, not wanting his ego to get any fucking bigger than it already did.

Kylo doesn’t buy it for one second, he licks up your cheek, licks away the sweat that drips down your temple, suckles it off of the dip in your throat, the space between your tits. He bites and sucks at your breasts as he fucks you hard, as he pushes you up up up the mattress, until you have to throw your hands against the headboard and push back down so you don’t smack your head.

“Bet you thought about it every fucking day like I thought about your tight cunt, damn you’re wet.” Kylo groans, his voice muffled as he buries his face between your cleavage, his cock pulsing and throbbing inside your pussy, the pleasure making your shoulders pinch in, your knees and thighs shake, body starting to convulse.

“I did not!” You lie lie lie, “Believe it or not but you don’t consume my every waking fucking thought, you know.”

“Don’t I?” Kylo pushes, drops a hand back down to your clit and brings you to the edge, painfully hot white sparks dancing through your nerves.

“No!”

“No?” His voice is dangerously sweet, charming, handsome. You hate him, fuck he’s so handsome.

“Fuck you – yes, okay! Yes!” You glare at him with a deep frown, frowning while he grins with all of his teeth, until your eyes are rolling back into your head and your toes curl and your body snaps up with tension as you come and come and come, “Oh yes, Kylo, yes right there, right there…!”

You let out a strangled shout of his name as your orgasm hits full force, and Kylo grins like the cat that got the cream as he comes inside you, collapsing down onto your chest. He’s too heavy though, and he knows that, he knows because you tell him all the time, so he rolls over to a spot that isn’t sticky, pulls you with him so you’re both resting on your sides.

Kylo doesn’t dare pull out, and if he gets his way, he won’t until morning. You’re too tired, too well fucked to challenge him about it, even though you know you really should go to the bathroom, at the very least.

You’re both breathing hard, heartbeats pounding together, until eventually, somehow, inevitably, your lungs and hearts sync up in a slow even rhythm, breathing in and out together in the quiet of the night. The fireplace flickers gently across from the bed, making shadows dance across Kylo’s face as he leans in to rub his nose against yours.

“Let me kiss you?” He whispers, a strange sort of vulnerability you don’t want to deny.

In the morning, you’ll grill him about everything that happened over the weekend, exactly what the charges against him are from, as much as he knows. In the morning, you’ll yell at him and hate yourself for taking on what is going to be probably one of the toughest cases of your career.

But for now, you shuffle as close to him as you possibly can and crane your head up to make up for the height difference from where your bodies are still joined, and kiss him, and kiss him, and kiss him, until you both fall asleep.

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

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Tagging some Kylo lovin' friends! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this story, please feel free to leave a comment or send an ask! :)

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[agoldengalaxy]

deny, deny, deny

read on Ao3

5 times someone told Sam and Bucky they cared about each other, and the 1 time they showed it.

--

1.

“You two bicker a lot,” Dr. Raynor says, eyeing the two men who sit, fuming, on the other side of her desk. “If you won’t speak to each other, then tell me this, instead. James, why would you ignore Sam’s texts?”

Bucky grumbles something under his breath. Sam seems genuinely curious to hear the answer. Raynor glares until Bucky sighs and repeats himself, staring at the floor. “Didn’t wanna bother ‘im.”

“What? I was the one texting you, Bucky! Why would I -”

“Just drop it, Sam.”

“…Fine.”

Folding her hands on her desk, Raynor sighs. She can’t be certain, but Bucky has been her client for a few months now, and she knows it takes a long time for him to tell the truth. In this case, however, she thinks the truth is there, as a small part of it. The way that the tips of his ears redden tell her that there must be more to it.

She isn’t blind. She has a feeling she might know that answer. So she leans forward a little. “Good. Thank you for that answer, James.” Her gaze slides to Sam, whose arms are crossed over his chest as he looks toward the wall. “How does that make you feel, Sam?”

He scoffs. “After everything I’ve done for him, he still -”

“You shouldn’t have given up the shield, Sam.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Gentlemen, please,” Raynor interrupts, feeling a headache coming on. She blows out a breath. “You’re both big boys now. You can handle this -“ she gestures vaguely, because she knows that they don’t quite understand yet, “- if you just talk to each other. Emotions are powerful things, you can’t ignore them forever.”

Bucky groans. Sam huffs.

They don’t get it. She’s not sure she wants to see them flounder, but she should put it out there, anyway. She leans forward. “Emotions including love, that you may have buried deep below.”

For a split second, she is met with stunned silence, before they both erupt, loudly. Denying, denying, denying, pushing the feelings down even deeper than they had been before despite the way that they fluster.

It’s okay, she tells herself. Deep breath in and out. They’ll accept it soon, someday.

Still, she shakes her head, effectively cutting them off. “No matter what kind of love it is, you care about each other. And that’s the bottom line. Once you cross it, things’ll be a whole lot easier.”

Sam looks at his lap, blinking. Bucky’s cheeks flush pink.

Raynor needs a drink.

2.

“This is really easy for you, isn’t it? All that serum runnin’ through your veins.” John hates the man standing in front of him. Maybe, in another life, they could have been friends. But the stubbornness just pisses him off, so he goes for Bucky’s weakness. He knows Bucky can take being insulted, but there is one thing he won’t accept. “Barnes, your partner needs backup in there.”

He watches Bucky’s cold stare waver, if only for a moment. John takes that opportunity to stand his ground, glancing behind Bucky, to that open door he wants to go through so desperately. Karli is right there, and the only thing standing in his way now is Barnes, and his stupid loyalty to Sam.

Bucky thinks so highly of Sam, he doesn’t have any other choice but to use that one weakness.

So they lock eyes again. “I know you care about him. Do you really want his blood on your hands?”

Beside him, Lemar shifts his weight from one foot to the other as Bucky looks down for a split second. John knows what it’s like. He’d never leave Lemar behind, though he knows with Sam and Bucky, things are a little different. He can feel Zemo’s eyes boring into them now, clearly amused. They wait.

Bucky’s jaw is clenched, every inch of him now rigid. John knows the feeling, and knows perhaps it might have been unfair to put him in that position; he knows he would stop at nothing if it were his wife in that room. That’s almost the equivalent of what Bucky must have been thinking.

But the ends justify the means.

Drawing in a sharp breath, Bucky turns around, his shoulders still tight, and John exchanges a look with Lemar as he speaks. “You’re right. We should help him.”

John’s grip on the shield tightens. Lemar grins. “Maybe you should tell him how you feel,” he suggests as they start up the stairs.

Bucky ignores them both, readying for the fight.

3.

“Super soldiers cannot be allowed to exist.”

“Isn’t that how gods talk?” Sam asks, cool and collected as ever. “And if that’s how you feel, then what about Bucky?”

Zemo carefully removes the ice pack from his forehead, weighing it in his hand as he sits up. He doesn’t know how to feel about Bucky just yet. For now, that question doesn’t have an answer. For now, Steve Rogers is the only exception, and he can’t imagine that changing anytime soon.

Still, he has to have some kind of fun, right?

So he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, tilting his head to get a better look at the man sitting at the table, and shrugs. “Why don’t you tell me?”

Sam blinks, eyebrows furrowing. “What do you mean?”

“Come now, Sam, I always thought you were an intelligent individual,” he replies, only slightly teasing. He does like Sam. He’s righteous, level-headed, and doesn’t make any stupid decisions. Except, perhaps, the person he might have chosen to love. “What do you think of James?”

“Is this a trick question?”

“Maybe, maybe not.”

Nodding, the other smiles and looks down, gathering his thoughts. “I think he’s annoyin’ as hell,” he answers slowly. “But...he’s passionate, smart, a big softie deep down...and he always does the right thing even though he’s hurting, too.” He pauses, then adds, “I still can’t tell if breakin’ you out of jail counts as the right thing, though.”

Zemo smirks, leaning back a little, tossing the ice pack from one hand to the other. “You know, when I first met my wife, she hated my guts.”

“Can’t say I blame her, Zemo.”

He chuckles, somewhat sadly, then continues. “These fights that you and James have, over the small things, they are nothing more than just couple’s quarrels.”

Sam’s eyes widen and he turns to look at him fully, as if he’s lost his mind. “What the hell are you talkin’ about? Bucky and I are just -”

“Just what, Sam?” Zemo tilts his head, as if challenging him. This is exactly the reaction he had been hoping for. It isn’t often the calm and collected Sam Wilson loses his cool, and Zemo likes to know he’s one of the ones who can get a rise out of him. “Friends, partners, all these terms you both throw around…” He thinks back to that look on Bucky’s face when John had challenged him, and his smile returns. “Perhaps you ought to think about what you truly want.”

And okay, maybe it isn’t just wanting to get a reaction from Sam. Maybe Zemo has seen the good in both of them, and thinks, perhaps, they ought to be happy, for once. His own partner is long gone, but it isn’t too late for Sam and Bucky.

Sam opens his mouth to respond, but he is cut off by the heavy sound of the door opening, and he immediately falls silent as Bucky walks in, with news that the Dora Milaje are after Zemo. Although Sam recovers quickly, staring at his laptop, Zemo side-eyes him, wondering if he might be blushing.

So Zemo stands up, shaking his head. How juvenile.

4.

Sarah leans against the truck, wiping sweat from her forehead. It’s been hours, and she still can’t believe Sam has managed to pull off receiving this much help. She knows their parents did a lot of favors, but she never could have imagined it would pay off this much one day.

She’s already made up her mind. She can’t sell this boat. It means so much to her, and to Sam.

Her gaze drifts toward the dock, where Bucky is helping Sam carry some things to Carlos. She’s almost certain they’re bickering again, but as they walk, their shoulders almost touch. Sam smiles. It’s something she hadn’t realized she had missed so much.

Seeing her brother smile, and seeing the reason for that smile, is all the evidence she needs to agree to let Bucky crash on her couch. The sun is already dipping closer and closer to the horizon, and she knows people will begin returning home soon. Personally, she has to get the boys to bed. But she lets herself enjoy this moment as long as she can.

When Sam and Bucky place down their loads, Sarah whistles, getting their attention to wave Sam over. Bucky seems to think about following, but is soon distracted by AJ and Cass, excited to meet their uncle’s ‘cool friend.’ Sam chuckles as he tells them to behave, then makes his way over to his sister, a huge grin on his face.

“What’d I tell you? I knew we could make it work,” he says, spreading his hands. Just as confident as ever, she supposes. She rolls her eyes, but for some reason, she can’t stop smiling, and his grin fades a little. “What’re you lookin’ at me like that for?”

Sarah shakes her head. “Nothing. I just missed seeing you so happy,” she admits, because although they tease each other, although they bicker, she loves him. She has no trouble admitting she cares. Seeing the confusion on his face, she hops up to sit on the back of the truck, folding her hands in her lap. “You were gone. For a really long time. And that’s okay, I know what you had to do.” A pause. “When you came back all sad-puppy-dog in the rain that first night, my heart broke. I guess I’m just trying to say I’m glad my brother’s back.”

There’s another pause until Sam comes to sit beside her, so that their shoulders touch. He nods. “It’s been a rough couple years,” he murmurs, and she nods. It has been for both of them.

They gaze at the boys, who are excitedly coaxing Bucky to flex his metal arm, who has a confused look on his face as per usual. Sarah rests her head on Sam’s shoulder, just grateful to know she’s no longer so alone. And then she sits up, turning to face him.

“But enough of that sappy stuff,” she says. “Tell me about Bucky.”

He groans. “Don’t tell me his awful attempt at flirting was actually successful.”

“What?” Pulling a face, she shakes her head. “No, not that. Tell me about him. A guy that makes you smile that much is probably one worth keepin’ around.” She nudges his shoulder and he chuckles a little, his gaze returning to the man in question.

“You’re the second person who’s asked me about him recently.” He seems to collect his thoughts for a moment. “...He reminds me a lot of Riley, sometimes.”

Sarah nods, having expected something like that. “Is it the same?” Sam and Riley had always been close, but she had never seen them get physically close the way that Sam and Bucky did. Sam shakes his head.

“Some things are better. Some things are...more annoying.”

“It’s okay,” she assures, patting his shoulder as she slides off the truck to stand up. “In case you were wonderin’, I still know everything, and I also happen to know he feels exactly the same about you. He cares about you, and I know you care, too, so it’s up to you to do somethin’ with it.” She grins as a stunned look appears on his face, walking away before he can even think of something to reply with.

She hopes they can get their heads out of their asses and realize it. After all, having Bucky around could be pretty helpful.

5.

“I’m sorry for how things ended down there.” A lie. “But for what it’s worth, suit looks good on you.”

Things had gotten dangerously close for Sharon. Too close. Luckily, though, Sam and Bucky haven’t found out the truth. If they had...well, she doesn’t want to think about what she would have to do if that were the case.

But here he is, their new Captain America, standing there in front of her with a soft chuckle and a slight nod. “Thanks.”

“All right, look, can we get out of here, please?” Bucky interjects, sounding...somewhat annoyed, for some reason. Her abdomen hurts terribly, but it’s not like she can’t handle a single gunshot wound. Still, standing around probably isn’t going to do her any good, so she nods and lets Bucky guide her.

They walk in silence for a little while until she looks at him. His gaze is fixed ahead, maybe lost in thought about something. Her eyes narrow a little. “What was that all about?”

“What was what all about?”

“I mean, you basically cut Sam off. Why’d you wanna leave so bad?” Her interest is peaked when she notices that, despite the fact that his expression barely changes, his ears redden.

Bucky clears his throat. “In case you forgot, you’re kind of bleeding out here, Sharon.”

She huffs. “I told you, I’m fine.” Watching him for a moment, she attempts to piece the puzzle together. His eyes hadn’t left Sam since he returned with Karli’s body. Back at her apartment, he’d seemed almost angry when she had complimented Sam without his shirt on. It dawns on her and she smirks. “Oh, don’t tell me you have a crush.”

His ears redden further. She guessed right.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Why would I like you?” Deflecting the accusation and dissing her all in one go. She’s almost impressed.

“We both know I’m not talking about myself.” She grabs his arm, and they both stop walking. He won’t look her in the eye. “Hey, it’s okay, all right? Your secret’s safe with me.” Of course, unless he gets in her way. That’s a bridge she’ll cross if it comes to it. “For what it’s worth, I think he’s a great candidate for you.”

Bucky frowns, shaking his head a little. “...I don’t wanna talk about this.”

Sighing, she nods. “Of course you don’t. Look, you should just go for it. What do you have to lose?”

A flicker of pain flashes across his face. “Everything,” he mumbles, almost inaudibly.

“Sam wouldn’t leave you if he didn’t feel the same. You shouldn’t hide from him.” She winces, then, not quite sure why she’s giving him advice. If he knew the truth, he’d have left her to die. But she doesn’t dwell on that, feeling his hand on her arm to ground her, and they begin walking again.

Bucky doesn’t say anything else, and neither does Sharon. She might have gone down a different path a long time ago, but she still thinks they both deserve to be happy.

Unless, of course, they get in her way.

+1

It’s late when Bucky comes to Sam’s door, knocking quietly before opening it to stand in the doorway, offering a beer out to him. “Fresh air?”

Sam accepts, and they walk outside together, footsteps sounding in tandem on the empty dock. A fresh sea breeze whips past, but not enough for either of them to get cold, the smell of salt filling their noses and the last couple cries of the seagulls before they settle in for the night.

They stop in front of the boat, admiring the work they had done on it together. Sam breaks the silence first. “Thanks for helpin’ out. With everything.”

Bucky looks at him and nods. “You’re welcome.” A pause. “It’s nice here, you know. Quiet. Nothing like New York.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“Yeah, I think it is.”

They gaze at each other for a moment before turning to their bottles. Silence is filled by the quiet crashing of waves in the distance. There’s a tension there that hadn’t been there before; an unspoken understanding of the situation.

Sam looks at Bucky, noticing the way the shadows under his eyes look a little lighter than they had been before. Bucky’s jaw is clenched, showcasing the stubble he’s been letting grow out, and Sam can’t help but think he looks princely.

And Bucky looks at Sam, at the way the moonlight so perfectly etches his features, his eyes bright as they stare back at him. He remembers the way Sam’s eyes crinkle when he smiles, how he reminds him of a sunshine that had pulled him from the deep, dark abyss he had been stuck in after Steve left.

They aren’t sure how long they’ve been standing there, quietly. Two words tear from Bucky’s throat, like he has no choice in the matter. “Sam, I…-”

Instead of answering, Sam steps closer, cupping one of Bucky’s cheeks, smashing their lips together. It’s rough but sweet.  Sam tastes like vanilla. Bucky tastes like beer. And nothing has ever felt so right before.

Sam pulls away and chuckles. “I hope that was what you were gonna say.”

Bucky smiles, though his face is bright red, placing a hand on Sam’s hip to pull him closer. “Somethin’ like that. Want to say it again?”

“I like that idea.”

They suppose they can put the promise of ‘going their separate ways’ on hold for a little while.

[shakey-hands]

Hi hi!! I LOVED your fic about Ranpo and Fukuzawa, it was wonderful❤️ And I adored your writing style as well, I really hope you’ll continue writing~

I’d love to see a Kunikida x Fem!Reader where the reader is dating Kunikida for a few years and one day, a client comes and starts flirting heavily with the reader and Kunikida decides to make him understand that she has a boyfriend. (I’m so sorry I just love these healthy jealousy dynamics hehe)

sooo i’m ngl, i love kunikida :) i haven’t finished season 3, i’m waiting for my semester to end before i do. i did take some artistic liberties with this so i hope you like it :)

tw: dazai osamu and men (and slight cursing).

---

It was annoying how sunny the day was. Kunikida’s eyes squinted as he added no sunglasses to his ongoing list of why the day was not ideal. First, he woke up late. His eyes had opened to his very loving girlfriend promising to see him at lunch and giving him a kiss on the head before heading to her job. Then, his coffee was cold, making him reheat it in the microwave that then caused the coffee to get everywhere inside. There was no time to clean it up, meaning he would have to figure out how to get the stains out before his girlfriend came home to the mess. It was not like she wouldn’t mind helping him, but Kunikida was in one of his stages where he had to be perfect for her.

Kunikida had showed up to work five minutes late due to some idiot (see: Dazai) holding up traffic to dramatically propose to some random girl in the middle of the street so they could commit suicide together. The crowd had loved it, but the girl had not. Then, Kunikida was slammed with a lot of paperwork all the way until thirty minutes before his lunch. Of course most of the paperwork was just Kunikida fixing other people’s paper work. That one hour of seeing Y/N had the potential to flip his entire day. The bespectacled man looked forward to awkwardly holding Y/N’s hand while they ate the bento boxes she made the night before on a random bench at a park. And yes it was awkward, he never could get the right pressure down, making him either barely hold her hand or squeezing it. It had been years since he started holding her hand, but he never got it down.

That finally leads to one of the worst surprises. Dazai had forgotten to tell Kunikida about an appointment with a client that was fifteen minute before lunch. While this wouldn’t be a big deal, the client needed to meet at the park for lunch and Kunikida did not know how long the meeting would be. Since moving in together in their second year, Y/N and Kunikida had agreed to keep their work lives separate from their home life. That meant that Kunikida could not bring a client to their lunch date. While Y/N was the epitome of kindness and being homey, once she set a boundary she had set it. This was part of why Kunikida loved her so much. However, he was now checking his phone every couple minutes to see if she had responded to his text about lunch.

‘Meeting came up, might be late.’

Vague? Yes. But Kunikida knew she would understand. Hopefully, Y/N would take her time and arrive later than planned. She had a habit of literally stopping to smell the flowers in the park.

The client had been speaking for a long duration, talking about how some thugs were ruining the park's atmosphere and how his grandchildren frequented this place all the time. He was small and had comically large glasses. His hands were folded over one another on top of his cane as he rested on a park bench across the park from Kunikida’s spot with Y/N. Kunikida did not see why the agency was taking this case on. He had gotten a message from Fukuzawa that it was important, but no details as to why. This was a police matter, not something the agency needed to add to its plate. Especially when more pressing jobs needed their attention. The old man spoke slowly, not paying much mind to anything else.

Kunikida’s phone dinged and he couldn’t help looking at it right away.

‘Is this your way of telling me you need to cancel?’

Y/N was just giving him a hard time. She took joy in messing with him, knowing that Kunikida was up tight and would probably freak out. He could vividly see her lips stretch into a teasing smile. All he was missing was the soft kiss on the cheek Y/N always gave him to make up for being mean. She would always pull him down by his tie, gripping it tightly. Dazai had gripped his tie the same way once, and ended up with an earful of colorful words and an official complaint against him. Kunikida let Y/N get away with so much, and he would continue to. He was so in love with his girlfriend of three years.

“Sir, is there an emergency?”

Kunikida snapped out of his daydreams of how Y/N cradled his face whenever they kissed. The client was staring up at him, an eyebrow slightly raised. At the other end of the bench, Dazai snapped his head towards them. He stopped singing the annoying song that had played on the radio that had gotten stuck in both his and Kunikida’s heads. A sly smirk took over his head and slid down the bench towards the client.

“Kunikida,” Dazai said with a wagging finger. “You’re blushing. Were you thinking of a certain little lady in a compromising position?”

Kunikida felt his face heat up. He definitely had not even thought of his girlfriend in that way where other people could perceive him. Especially not during work hours. Kunikida was very private about things like that and so was Y/N. Kunikida started to sputter about, completely appalled by Dazai bringing that up in front of a client. The client looked confused, not knowing what was going on. Dazai let out a loud laugh and began to tease Kunikida more.

* * *

Across the park, Y/N walked up to their spot. She was dressed in her uniform, tired of having to deal with picky clients of her own. Two bento boxes were balanced in her hands, both very similar in food, but different in preferences. Kunikida’s was healthier, with a small salad with various vegetables. Y/N’s had a small slice of the cake she had baked them that week and more fruit. She always woke up early to make them lunch. It was one of the few ways she took care of her loving boyfriend that he found to be quite endearing. Well, he found anything she did endearing, but there were some things that especially made his heart race.

Another example was that she wore the stupid little children’s bracelet he had won her from their first date every day. Due to his nervousness, Kunikida had been convinced by Atsushi and Kenji that he should bring her to the fair the agency was going to. Of course it was for a client, but it had slipped Kunikida’s mind when he first saw Y/N’s smile as he offered (awkwardly and properly of course) to hold her hand so they wouldn’t get lost. While at first it was very practical to not get lost in the crowd, Kunikida did not have to convince himself that the warmth of her hand was something he wanted more of. He was smitten from the beginning, and now he couldn’t imagine a life without her.

Their bench was unoccupied, like always. She sat down, crossing her ankles and casually looking around. It was a nice day, with clouds covering the sun and a soft breeze. A large tree provided extra shade, and if you looked closely, there was a small heart with both Kunikida and her initials carved into one of the large roots. It had happened one night where both had a little too much to drink, but the next morning Kunikida was freaking out over it. Y/N loved their spot.

As her eyes casually drifted over the park, a familiar trench coat caught her eyes. Dazai was draped over a bench, paying no mind to the old man sitting beside him. Standing with his back facing towards her, Kunikida had his weight shifted to one leg and his arms crossed. Y/N smiled at the sight of her boyfriend. His whole body was tense and she knew Dazai was probably giving Kunikida a hard time by the smirk on Dazai’s face. It had taken Y/N a while to get used to Dazai, but now she could smile with appreciation. The two balanced one another, and Y/N was completely aware that if it weren’t for Dazai’s softening of her boyfriend, they would have never gotten together.

Y/N was too much in her head to see the handsome man coming towards her. He had his eyes set on her silky hair and sparkling eyes. The man had been out for his daily run before he met his grandfather and just happened to see the pretty girl on the bench from across the way. Although it was not his usual running path, the man couldn’t help but switch it up. The closer he got, the more he realized how easily he could fall in love with her. As he slowed down, he noticed how she was lost in the scenery of the park.

“So, you come here often?”

Her head turned, unsure about what she was about to look at. Y/N was not impressed by the man in front of her. Though every man seemed to be paled in comparison to her boyfriend. The man in front of her was buff and looked like he was on a run. He was attractive, with high cheekbones and plump lips, but Y/N was not interested. One of her eyebrows quirked up.

“I suppose.” There was an uncertain edge to her voice, hoping he would get the hint.

Instead, the man hiked his foot up on the opposite corner of the bench, flexing in a very obvious way that he was trying to be subtle. “Yeah, I was just on my daily run. I work out a lot, mainly in nature, but don’t turn down any gym days when they come up. Those are rare though. I have a job that keeps me busy. You know, you don’t earn 200 million yen in a year by just sitting on your ass. I mean, sure I take nice vacations to my beach house every once in a while-”

His boasting could be heard from across the park. Which of course caught Dazai’s attention when he saw who the guy was talking to. It was as if God had set up a perfect day for Dazai to have. He hoped Kunikida would explode. The client was very boring and Dazai was pretty sure the supposed thugs happened to be the Port Mafia. He was just waiting for Kunikida to get through all the questions from his notebook so they could go on lunch already. But now? Now a show of entertainment was in sight as Dazai zeroed in on Y/N and how uncomfortable she looked. That would certainly set Kunikida off.

Dazai knew how whipped Kunikida was for Y/N. The tall man almost never liked to talk about things outside of work, unless it came to his girlfriend. Everyone in the office knew to steer clear of the topic of Y/N unless they wanted to be trapped in a conversation about how amazing her cooking was or how well her job was going. It was cute at first, but it had been a couple years and Kunikida was still in his honeymoon phase of worshipping her. But this? This would make him go wild.

Dazai let out a huge sigh as the client kept talking. He noticed how Y/N kept looking over, hoping someone would notice and get her out of whatever hell she was going through. So Dazai waved slightly, making Kunikida look over at him and frown. The client was still talking, going into some story that looked like it would drag on and on. And then, the situation got worse.

Just as Kunikida was looking to see whatever had Dazai’s attention instead of the case, the strange man began to twirl Y/N’s hair around his finger, getting horribly close. His face got too close to hers, noses about to brush. Y/N held her breath, praying that the moment would be over soon. And it was.

Nobody had expected Kunikida to be that fast, but soon he was up the hill to the bench and holding the man who was shorter than him by the collar. There was a rage in his eye that centered around the man’s wandering hands. Y/N stood up quickly, ready to pull Kunikida away from the man if he tried to be too violent. Of course she would pretend to be slow, but she still felt morally obligated to pull them away from one another. Dazai casually walked up the grassy hill, hands in his pocket and smirk on his face.

Kunikida was breathing heavy, mind racing on what he was going to do. He wasn’t naturally a violent person, but he did not like how the man was making Y/N uncomfortable. His sudden rush had caught the attention of those who were close by. There was a silence enveloping the group as they all waited to see what Kunikida would do.

“Unhand my grandson,” The old man yelled as he waddled up the hill at an extremely slow pace.

Dazai raised an eyebrow and looked behind him. For a split second, he was very aware of how easily he could push the old man back down the hill and turn back to the source of the growing tension in the park. But Dazai didn’t want to be the source of any drama in that moment so he just turned back around to see the conflict in Kunikida’s eyes.

“It’s okay, honey,” Y/N said as she slowly put a hand on Kunikida’s shoulder.

Kunikida let down the man, he dropped to his knees from the sudden let go. He faltered as he stood up, readjusting his clothes.

“What the hell is your-”

Before he could even finish his sentence, he was getting socked in the face. Everyone stood in shock as Y/N’s hit sent him straight to the ground. She stood over him with a frown on her face.

“Learn to respect women, asshole.”

And if it were possible, Kunikida fell in love with her more.