#a good story needs to bring you REALLY low and then lift you up REALLY high

[fayes-fics]

Lessons In Roleplay

Lessons Series Masterpost

Pairings: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader, Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader (threesome)

Summary: The boys roleplay dastardly highwayman and rescuer.

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, MMF threesome, d/s dynamics, roleplay, CNC play, gunplay, slightly rough vaginal sex, dirty talk, cuckolding play, mention of breeding, oral sex (f to m), blow job, spitroast, orgasms, aftercare.

Word Count: 4.8k

Authors Note: This is a request fill for the amazing @colettebronte, asking for some roleplay in the Lessons universe. How could I say no to that? She chose which role the boys would play. Beta read by the amazing @sorryallonsy. Gif by @captainbucky-yt. The image is not particularly relevant to the story, but they both look delicious. Enjoy! <3

“Do you really think a highwayman might have seen us?”  you query, your head resting on Anthony’s chest as he strokes your hair idly. “Yesterday, in the carriage,” you clarify as Benedict lifts his head from your belly and shoots you a querying eyebrow.

You are all lying together, entwined in post-coital bliss, under a large oak on their country estate on a beautiful summer day. The day after your eventful carriage ride here with them.

Anthony’s responding chuckle vibrates under you. “Tis possible, my sweet girl,” he opines lazily, using his other hand to shield his eyes from the sun cutting through the leaves above.

Your thoughtful mien has Benedict pushing up onto his hands and hovering over you, his hazy eyes observing you with a knowing quirk on his lips. 

“I think our girl likes that idea,” he intuits, always correct in his ability to read you.

“I would prefer one of you be my robber, not a stranger,” you confess, smiling when they grab one of your hands each.

“If that is what the lady wishes….perhaps such a thing can be arranged,” Benedict opines silkily,  lacing your fingers with his. “Can it not, brother?”

“What are you thinking?” Anthony hums, bringing your hand to his face.

“Perhaps the old phaeton in the stable can be put to good use?” Benedict suggests, lowering himself to kiss down your ribs. “I do not see why we could not steal away somewhere within the grounds and make our sweet girl's wish come true. One of us can play the dastardly highwayman lurking by the roadside as she rides by…” he trails off, getting distracted by the softness of your skin, dropping kisses onto your belly now.

“...And one of you could play my rescuer who draws up upon horseback?” you supply, a little breathless at the images already tumbling through your mind as their lips trace over your skin.

They both chuckle at that, Anthony dropping a kiss on your forehead and Benedict onto your hipbone.

“I am more than certain that could be arranged,” Anthony confirms, an admiring twinkle in his eye as you twist to look up at him. “This evening, in fact…”

“But which would you be, my lord?”

“What do you want of me, my girl? Do you want me to be the gallant hero?” he questions, his fingers tracing your cupid’s bow before sliding between your lips; his fingers still tart with your arousal as he presses upon your tongue. “Or the man who will hold you up? Whose demands you will need to submit to? To plead to spare your life?”

“The latter,” your reply muffled around his questing fingers, a frisson low in your belly that he may fuck you by the roadside in the dead of night.

“Then I shall ride in to rescue you,” Benedict affirms, his fingers flexing between yours as you now look down at him, his chin resting low upon your stomach.

“But not too soon…” you appeal with a wink, “and I think my rescuer should help me with my pleasure too, no?”

They both laugh knowingly at that. 

“Your wish is my command….” Benedict offers, nudging this nose into your belly, which now fizzes with excitement about the night ahead.

—

You dress in a delicate cerulean blue silk gown that clings like liquid satin to your bare skin, foregoing any underwear, as is so often your preference when playing with your boys. Your outfit is topped off with sparkling sapphires and diamonds draped around your neck and wrists, no doubt priceless heirlooms from the vault Anthony holds on the property.

The hallway clock softly chimes midnight just as you steal out of the servant's entrance, meeting Benedict in the courtyard by the stables, already standing ready with a horse and a small, buggy-type carriage.

“You look beautiful,” he remarks, flattery just falling from him as ever. “I assume you know how to steer a phaeton?” he checks as you draw up to him, the moonlight throwing his face into handsome relief.

You nod, and he moves aside to assist you in climbing into the simple open-top carriage with an exchange of smiles.

“You remember where to go, correct?” His voice is soft as he hands you the reins. 

“Down past the lake, take the left fork, follow the hedgerow until the thicket of trees,” you parrot the agreed directions from earlier. You can only assume Anthony is already lying in wait for you there.

Benedict nods, and then his demeanour changes, leaning in, a hand curling around your neck.

“Be careful out there, my sweet. Highwaymen may lurk,” he warns, slipping effortlessly into his heroic character. 

“Perhaps a kiss for good luck upon my journey…. ?” you coquette, enjoying the way his pupils dilate.

He sweeps you into an all-consuming kiss that makes your heart pound and your body tingle, his tongue warm and insistent over yours.

“Good luck, my fair lady,” he exhales as you part, taking a step back to bow with a flourish.

You giggle and shake the reins to take off, elated your evening adventure has begun.

—

It is less than five minutes later when you arrive at a copse of trees, the bright new moon illuminating the fields around you as you slip under the shadows of the mighty oaks on either side of the track. 

“STAND AND DELIVER!!” 

A loud, clear voice rings out as you slow your horse to a stop, belly aflutter with anticipation. Emerging from behind a tree is a tall figure dressed in a black shirt and trousers, and as he draws nearer, you see a familiar, handsome face disguised behind a simple black mask. 

Anthony.

You gasp as his leather-gloved hand draws a gun from his waistband and points it at you, blood running hot at his complete commitment to the roleplay.

“I have nothing to offer you, thief!” 

Your protest is exaggerated but triumphant as his gaze falls to your decolletage, swelling with each exaggerated breath, your neckline scooped intentionally low.

“Get down at once, and perhaps I will spare your life, for I know you lie,” he counters, “those jewels around your neck, I wager, are worth more than my entire house….”

In your eagerness, you stumble slightly as you climb down from the carriage, and strong hands grasp your waist and right your stance on the ground.

“Unhand me, ruffian!” 

Your theatrics are met with a flicker of tacit approval across his face.

“Not until those jewels are mine, fair lady!” highwayman Anthony contends, a predatory smile that has his teeth glowing in the low light, his firm grip upon you flexing.

“Please… I'm sure you are a reasonable man,” you change tack, still heaving breaths. “I simply cannot give you these jewels. They are too precious to me. They are a gift from my love.”

Framed by the mask, his dark eyes flash possessively, and there is a slip of softness in his expression as you say such words, knowing the truth behind them. 

But then his tongue pokes out, licking his incisor almost menacingly. One of his hands bands behind your back, yanking you flush against his firm body.

“Do you really think you are in any position to negotiate, my fair lady?” he withers.

Your heart quickens as he places the cold barrel of the gun to your temple. 

“It is not loaded,” he whispers, a warmth behind your ribs as he breaks character for a split second of reassurance before his expression is back to flinty. 

“Please….” you implore.

He ignores you, crowding you backwards into the side of the carriage, the shiny lacquered wood of the wheel spokes digging into your spine. Once trapped, the hand around your waist moves to grasp your necklace, his leather glove cold on your breastbone.

“Take this off, or I will,” he orders; it’s a resonant threat that vibrates right into your body.

“Then you shall have to, for I will not!” you spit out, struggling against him for good measure, wanting nothing more than for him to rip the jewels from your body. And then your dress.

Just as promised, he is a little rough as he manhandles you, spinning you around so your breasts are pressed into the side of the phaeton, the unmistakable heat of his arousal on your tailbone as he leans into you. 

He yanks off his gloves with his teeth and brushes your hair aside, unclasping the necklace and slowly tugging one end so it falls off behind you. A frisson runs the length of your spine as his bare fingers trail down slowly over both of your arms to your wrists and flick open the hinges on the bangles there, removing them too.

“These jewels are beautiful, my lady,” he concedes, pocketing them, “but I demand more…”

“Please, brute, you have taken all I can give you!”

“Oh, but that is not true…” he rumbles hotly into the nape of your neck. 

You gasp as a hand cups between your legs through your thin dress. 

“Your greatest treasure is the only one I cannot take with me….” 

He ruts himself into you, intent unmistakable, as his fingers curl into the fabric. The softness of the silk over your already throbbing clit has you biting your lip.

“No, please, let me go…” 

You amp up your performance, pushing back into him, looking over your shoulder with a fiery challenge that belies your words.

“I demand satisfaction!” 

With that, he kicks your feet apart, rucking up your dress until you feel the cool night air swirling around your buttocks and between your legs. Then there is a pause as his hand travels up your naked flesh, a hungry noise escaping his lips as he buries his nose into your hair, 

“Perhaps I misjudged…” he rasps, words huffing warm over your scalp. “No stockings. Nor underwear. You are far from a lady….”

“How dare you!” 

You struggle again in his grip, loving the way his hold gets more insistent, moaning loudly as his fingers curl into your folds, already leaking profusely from the moment he emerged from the trees.

“Shut up,” he gruffs, dropping the gun into the carriage in front of you. “The more you struggle, the more I will take.”

This play already has you desperate for him, blood boiling with pure want as his fingers tease your clit.

“No, you beast, I shall not give in…” 

Your objection sharpens his resolve, the wool of his trousers chafing the back of your thighs as he rapidly yanks open his britches one-handed. 

Your cry echoes around the tree canopy as his rigid cock roughly ploughs into your pussy from behind, the force rocking you up onto your tiptoes. The sheer stretching invasion has you grabbing the carriage for leverage, wanting to voice your approval but too committed to the role you inhabit to allow yourself.

“Please, mister, no!” 

You twist to meet his eye, silently begging for him to go fast and hard, take you mercilessly as you pretend this is not every wish you had for this night. Loving the feel of his fingertips curling around the crest of your hips, readying to take you hard. 

And then he does—pulling out almost entirely, then ploughing back into you harshly. Immediately setting a nearly punishing rhythm, the dirt beneath your silk shoes crunching under your foot as you rock with his motions, you calling out loudly with each jolt.

“Quiet, or I will spank you,” he warns, his face wild, even obscured behind his mask.

That’s an open invitation you are not going to refuse.

“Stop!” you yell, goadingly.

There is a stinging slap across your buttock that has you lurching, your head lolling down, a huge, unseen smile claiming your lips, little sparks of fire radiating from the point of contact, a beeline right for your clit.

“No more!” you pant, staring at the ground and rocking back into his snapped thrusts, wrenching a moan from you with every move, his cock a delicious heavy weight cleaving you open, as it always is. You could never tire of this feeling, when he takes you so hard you can only cling on for dear life.

“All I heard is more, fair lady,” he laughs darkly and spanks again, your other cheek this time, a matching handprint you feel glowing.

You pitch forward and teeth the carriage as he fucks you. His moves are harsh, grunting with each thrust. You bite down, knowing the dental imprint you leave will be a great source of pride for him, a lasting memento of just how untamed he can make you.

“Tell me you want this!” He demands, grabbing your throat and yanking you backwards, your spine flush to his front, speared deep onto his cock as he stills.

“Never!” 

His hand spanks you again so forcefully your eyes roll back. He withdraws slowly, then thrusts up so deep your toes leave the ground, him supporting all of your weight. It’s always so wonderful to feel like a rag doll in his arms when he is like this, speared open, utterly malleable to his onslaught.

Suddenly, movement catches the corner of your vision, and you look askance to see Benedict approaching, shirt billowing in the wind as he rides his galloping horse majestically across the moonlit field toward you. His horse whinnies as he dismounts in an athletic leap, bounding towards you.

“UNHAND HER AT ONCE!” 

His voice is a bellow the likes of which you have never heard from his before. It makes you clench reflexively around his brother’s cock, and you wonder how much jealousy is behind the following line that Anthony sneers.

“It appears you have a rescuer, my lady. How entertaining. Who is he?” Anthony demands, spinning you around to face Benedict while still buried inside you.

“My husband,” you improvise provocatively, pushing back into Anthony.

It’s not something you had discussed with them for the roleplay, merely that Benedict would be your rescuer. But the look of unbridled desire that engulfs his face as you bestow him as such for this scene makes your lungs catch, his whole body puffing out with pride. 

“Get. Your. Hands. Off. My. Wife.” 

Each word is its own sentence, his voice dripping with possession and intent, inhabiting outrage so perfectly.

“Too late,” Anthony snarls back. “I am already inside her, and she is thoroughly enjoying it. Her smart mouth may protest, but she is positively flooding over me.” 

That triumphant verbal swipe makes you stutter. Evidently, Anthony has been taking notes from his poetic, dirty-talking younger brother, who stands before you now, a quake in his being that could be a husband’s rage, but you know to be pent-up desire—his gaze trained on your exposed lower half.

“Wrong…” Benedict growls, taking a large step forward, pressing into your front so you are sandwiched between them. Your very favourite place to be. “She may be drenched, but you are not the cause, merely the beneficiary.” 

Benedict’s sizeable right hand curls into the hair at the nape of your neck as he stakes his claim on you with his words and deeds: drawing you into a plundering kiss, the outline of his cock growing harder, pressing hot into your belly, before he breaks away to continue speaking. 

“She is my obedient little one,” he proclaims, cupping your jaw to make you stare up at him, even as Anthony’s cock rocks deeper into your pussy, challenging his claim. “As soon as she so much as scents me in her periphery, she is dripping down to her dainty ankles. And that is why she is mine. My wife.” 

Benedict’s resonant cadence vibrates your chest and has you swaying, desperate for him as well. You feel Anthony twist a fraction to grab something from the carriage behind him, still rock hard inside you. 

“Do you forget, Sir, who has the true weapon here? Anthony challenges.

The cold barrel of the gun is pressed to your temple again. 

You mouth the words not loaded to Benedict, and he responds in kind, I know, before stepping back and holding his hands up in faux capitulation. 

“Please,” Benedict changes tack, “take our jewels, but please do not harm my wife…”

You are enthralled by this—the planning they must have done together to execute this and how effortlessly they both inhabit their characters. A collaboration that speaks to their growing acceptance of each other as equals in this dynamic. Even though you can see the lines blurring as they goad each other within the roleplay, spectres of their past power dynamic, where Anthony would taunt Benedict with you, setting rules that always gave him the upper hand.

“I have already ruined her,” Anthony smirks, thrusting once for good measure and making you moan before stilling again. “But I shall offer you a deal…”

“Anything…” Benedict pleads, utterly convincing now as the distressed, cuckolded husband.

“You may watch me fuck her, plant my seed in her, and I will be happy to leave empty-handed.” 

“Or…?” Benedict prompts, sensing an alternative.

“You may join me in taking her. I will not seed her, but I will depart with every single one of your jewels,” Anthony declares, nodding to Benedict’s ring on his little finger.

“Wife…. I shall let you choose.” Benedict's eyes scoot to you, still embodying his role, but his gaze pleading to let him in on the fun.

Silently, you hold out your hand to him, inviting him in. He takes it, bringing it to his lips and kissing your knuckles briefly in reassurance. 

“You have a deal, highwayman,” Benedict concedes to Anthony, pointedly removing his signet ring and handing it over your shoulder.

Anthony pulls out of you, making you whine at the loss, a droplet of wetness trickling down your thigh as he spins you around to face him. 

“I think your wife should be naked, would you not agree?” Anthony posits, his fingers trailing your scooped neckline to the swell of your breast as he gives an order: “Undress her for me.”

Wordlessly, you feel Benedict plucking at the buttons over your spine. As they relent, he moves to tug the slackened fabric down off your torso, and the blue silk flutters to the ground, a shiver running over your skin as a cool breeze swirls around your naked body. 

Anthony sucks in a breath, taking a half-step back, his eyes raking covetously over your naked skin.��

“You permit your wife to parade in public without any undergarments?” he chides, his tone dripping with judgment.

“Permit her?” Benedict chuckles, bemused.

You inhale sharply as he wraps an arm around you, hauling you snugly backwards into his frame, his long fingers then spidering down your lower belly, right into your damp slit. 

“I veritably insist upon it,” he gloats. “And she is more than keen…”

His teeth catch your earlobe as you whimper and writhe on his touch, little sparks of pleasure pinging around your body. 

“Always so ready for me, are you not, my darling wife?” 

You twist to meet his gaze as you nod obediently, and he rewards you with a crooked smile and a light pinch to your engorged clit that makes you cry out for him, punctuating his point. You yearn for him to take you roughly, needing this husband version he plays so well to claim you as his. 

“You are a lucky man, betrothed to such an eager little vixen,” Anthony concedes, staring you down, provocatively wiping his lip with his thumb, hunger barely contained as he watches you ride his brother's fingers. “Perhaps she can lick clean the mess she made of me while you take your pleasure?” he adds casually.

“I will do it,” you volunteer brightly, almost preemptively, and far too enthusiastically for being held ‘hostage’.

“Come now, sweet girl, at least try to act as if you are mildly perturbed by our predicament…” Benedict deadpans genially, his fingers stilling as he breaks character, and Anthony chuckles, looking equally entertained by your outburst.

“Sorry…” you whisper over a giggle, and it earns you a quick kiss on the cheek from both of them, their eyes glittering with amusement. “Please continue…” 

Benedict slides his fingers out from between your legs, you whining from the loss. But you soon quieten as you realise he is unbuttoning his trousers, knuckles brushing your bottom as he peels them open just enough to free himself, veritably pulsing for the promise of his cock too.

“Bend over and suckle him, wife,” he orders, back in his role, knowing how much you adore detailed filthy instruction from him.

“Yes, husband,” you demure, lowering yourself as requested, widening your stance as you do so—a blatant invitation for him to take you.

“What an excellent, obedient thing,” Anthony observes, his hand gliding into your hair as you peel his trousers open further, pressing your face into his crotch before sucking his tip between your lips, glazed with your arousal.

“She’s a wonder,” Benedict concurs.

Anthony’s fingers flex on your scalp, and his thumb rounds your jaw to pull down your chin, opening you wider. He thrusts into your mouth; your hands cling to his muscular thighs as his tip nudges the roof of your mouth, tongue pressed into his underside. 

He groans loudly, your tastebuds flooded with your tart juices and a bead of his salty precum. He withdraws then drives back in, nudging deeper this time, knowing it always makes you mindless, his grip solid on your head as he starts to fuck into your mouth. It has you squirming with supplicant need, begging Benedict silently for his cock, too, as he teases your slit, grinding his head over your clit.

Your call is entirely muffled around Anthony as Benedict finally takes pity on you, thrusting deep into your pussy, in one rapid, forceful move. Both ends of your body are utterly invaded, one of your favourite places to be, a carnal loop of pleasure that only they can provide. Anthony’s hands are heavy on your scalp as Benedict's grasp your hips almost punishingly tight—something so thrilling about you being bent over entirely naked between their clothed bodies. They work together to ensure maximum pleasure for you, intuiting your needs, Anthony withdrawing just as you need to draw breath but always keeping you singing with need, his cock something to muffle your noises, to suckle upon as they both drive you higher.

You sag into their hold, relying on them to keep you balanced, pliant to the push and pull of your being between these men as they use you just as you want them to. Entirely possessed by them, played expertly by both as if an instrument for all of your mutual pleasure. Always intuiting your needs, Benedict reaches down, pulling your arms backwards flush with the sides of your body, twining his fingers in yours, a possessive hold that means you have no purchase to prevent Anthony’s thrusts into your mouth. 

Benedict’s pace builds slowly, his cock grinding all those places deep inside only they can reach. His thrusts that cleave you open timed perfectly, his fingers curled over the pulse point on your wrist, syncopating his movements with each beat of your heart.

Anthony groans, causing his cock to vibrate as it passes through the tight ring of your lips. The tingle has you moaning too, a call and response that notches things higher.

“I will not last,” Anthony grits out, teeth clenched, his fingernails digging into your scalp, his thrusts into your mouth urgent now, barely allowing you any reprieve.

“Do as you will…” Benedict grunts, his noises guttural as you clench around him, a vice that has him dropping your wrists, sensing how close you are, too. One of his hands grabs your hip roughly as the other ploughs into your slit, catching your swollen, throbbing clit.

He changes angle to spear deeper, harsher, and you scream around Anthony’s cock, which fills your mouth now, breathing harshly through your nose as he uses you mercilessly.

“Look at me,” Anthony commands, grabbing your head to tilt your face upwards, his cock tip grinding the roof of your mouth, your hands again on his wool trousers for leverage as you stare wide-eyed up at his handsome face, angular and determined.

“So fucking beautiful,” he croaks, his thumb rounding to blot the tear forming in the corner of your eye from not wanting to blink. 

“Better and more priceless than any jewel,” Benedict taunts, still impressively embodying his role, each word heaved over a breath, “and all mine.”

The possession with which he growls that last word, plunging harder than he ever has, is the catalyst for all of you. The vibration of your scream around Anthony’s cock as Benedict glances at your hilt is what tips him over. A heavy pulse travels up the length of his cock, and his fingernails cirls into your scalp as he comes, a salty rope splashing into your throat that you swallow reflexively as Benedict's fingers and cock send you over the edge, your vision whiting out, as your whole body convulses, strong hands bandying around you to hold you upright as your knees almost give out, everything in your snapping taut as you come so hard you swear stars dance before your eyes. With an almost howl, Benedict roughly pulls out of your convulsing pussy, a warmth splashing over your lumbar spine as you all pant loudly.

Before you are fully cognisant, strong arms pull you into an embrace. You recover, caged by Benedict, his chest warm against your spine as he murmurs sweet words in your ear. In front of you, Anthony refastens his trousers, pulling the gems from his coat pocket, still impressively in character.

“I shall greatly enjoy the spoils of this evening,”  he taunts, holding them up so they sparkle in the moonlight. “But, if you should ever wish to share your wife again, you know where to find me…”

“How do you know I will not tell others of your location? Force you to move your despicable, criminal activities elsewhere?” Benedict counters as you drowsily enjoy their little theatrical, continuing purely for your amusement.

“Because of the way your wife is looking at me…” Anthony crows, stepping forward again to run a finger over your chin and swollen, darkened lips as he repockets the loot. “As if she wishes to ride away with me as much as she wishes to remain with you.” 

He draws you in for a fierce, possessive kiss, you gasping heavily, pliant under his invasion, still dazed from your orgasm. 

“Perhaps one day, if you are a good little thing for me, you could even earn your jewels back…” Anthony contends. “Until then, I bid you adieu…” he signs off, bowing, then turning heel and disappearing into the night.

—

A few minutes later, Anthony saunters back from bridling the additional horse onto the phaeton. Himself again, the roleplay scene over.

“Our poor girl cannot wear this; 'tis too caked in dirt and mud now,” he rues, no trace of the menacing highwayman to be found in his tone as he scoops your trampled dress up from the dirt track.

“We will just have to keep her warm for the ride back, brother,” Benedict advocates.

Anthony hums in agreement, chivalrously whipping off his shirt and helping you into it with affectionate kisses. After a quiet spell in their joint embrace - always your favourite place to recover from such vigorous adventures - they both tenderly assist you up into the carriage, arranging you snugly between them upon the simple bench seat. Both wrap their free arm around you as they grab a horse rein each. You burrow into their comforting presence as the carriage trundles away at a leisurely pace.

“Did you enjoy our roleplay, my girl?” Anthony checks, tone laden with affection, as Benedict turns to kiss your forehead tenderly.

“Yes, you were both so wonderful, exactly as I had hoped and more. Thank you,” you sigh contentedly, nuzzling into them both in turn.

“I cannot wait to hear of your other fantasies, sweet girl. I assume you have many more,” Benedict guesses, accurate as always.

“I am rather taken by the idea of adventure on the high seas with two swashbuckling buccaneers…” you confess, even as you have to stifle a yawn, the sway of the carriage and their warmth soporific.

“Well, after you have had some good rest, my darling girl, perhaps I will seek out our grandfather’s cutlass…” Anthony offers as he laughs genially.

You perk up, and your head pings between them. “Is that a promise?”

“Most definitely,” they answer in unison, two pairs of amused, sparkling eyes meeting yours as the beauty of Aubrey Hall hones into view in your periphery.

You cannot wait.

Anthony & Benedict taglist pt 1: @makaylan @longingintheuniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @queenofmean14 @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @elizah99 @fictionalmenloversblog @debheart @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @amanda08319 @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @ferns-fics @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23

[goldensunset]

i love darkness and edginess in kh absolutely and i think the deeply philosophical introspective examinations on what it means to be human aka existential dread and all that lends itself to a bit of horror easily and i love seeing it utilized to its fullest potential. ultimately though what i want is something comforting and reassuring at the end of the day- like what nomura said about the series reflecting his belief that ‘the heart is never truly gone’. how you might lose people but they’re always a part of you. i will be happy no matter where the series goes as long as it fundamentally comes back to love and human connection. it’s really beautiful the way the story gets so incredibly dark but it always manages to come back to the light somehow- whether it’s a classic disney happily ever after, or something more akin to other storytellers where something is absolutely lost but it’s still a good ending, y’know? instead of everything being saccharine you get hurt and you grow because of it and new beauty blooms. kh really delivers on that front and i want it to stay that way forever

[starboye]

pairing: kj apa x male reader x jacob elordi

request: Hi I'm the one that requested the Dom top kj apa and Dom top Jacob elordy and male reader threesome for all three of them on vacation together and reader gets horny seeing KJ and Jacob in their Speedos and they go back to the hotel room as soon as they get into the door reader drops to his knees and starts worshiping KJ and Jacobs bulges pulls down there Speedos and start sucking both their dicks and they take turns face fucking him till they come then they throw reader on the bed and start taking turns fucking reader then they both take reader at the same time if that's okay either they're all dating or readers a fan that meets them if that's okay or whatever you decide I love reading your stories

warnings: SMUT, oral sex, double penetration, degrading, daddy kink kinda, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), breeding kink if you squint, face fucking, rough sex, cursing

words: 2k

kj apa and jacob elordi... no need to elaborate further, some of the finest men to ever roam the earth and now they were at your job in the tightest speedos that hugged the right places, their bodies were glistening in the summer heat while they sunbathed by the pool, looking as hot as ever, so you decided to approach them.

"hello gentlemen would you like anything eat" you ask approaching them "aside from you, no" jacob says with a smirk on his face as he lifts up his glasses to see you better, you began to blush from just his comment "what do you think kj should we" jacob asks tapping kj on the shoulder to get his attention.

"yeah he looks good enough" kj says smiling, you stood there wondering what they were conversing about but as your mind started to race jacob got your attention back "wanna go back to our place" jacob asks "I don't know I couldn't just leave my job" you say a little worried "c'mon it'll be fun" jacob says trying to convince you the best he can.

"fine I guess I could" you agree, a devious grin immediately creeps across kj and jacobs faces before he grabs your hand and brings you to their room, as soon as you walk through the door kj pushes you down your knees, you go down with a small gasp, looking up at them nervously wondering what they were gonna do "don't be shy, get to work" jacob says and with that you begin sniffing their bulges.

inhaling their intoxicating scents so eagerly, you switch between kj and jacobs bulge, worshipping and groping them "you want them dontcha" kj asks pressing your face further onto his crotch as you felt his dick harden "mhm" you replied muffled "ya think we should give it to him" kj asks jacob as they both watch you become a slut over their bodies.

"definitely" jacob chuckles, kj and jacob then pulls out their thick dicks, you could feel the heat radiating from them "go on suck it" jacob orders and you oblige and immediately begin sucking his dick, struggling to even make it to the shaft "come on you got this just relax" jacob says pushing your head further down his dick making you gag, kj watching with lustful eyes as he strokes his dick eagerly awaiting his turn.

"fuck this is good" jacob groans letting you pull of his dick to get a breath "sir I don't think I can take this" you say "nonsense just try again" jacob replies pushing your head back on his dick and all the way to the base, making you choke and gag, jacob could feel so far in your warm throat, as it spasms around his thickness, he let out a couple low groans before emptying his cum into your mouth, forcing you to swallow it all.

"me next" kj says grabbing you by the hair and pulling you onto his dick with no break from the previous throat fucking, you placed you hands onto kj's thighs for some stability as you felt him hit the back of your throat with every thrust into your mouth "damn you really loosened him up for me" kj says through closed teeth as the only sounds coming from you were gurgles, moans, and wet throat noises before all that was finally silenced with the feeling of kjs' cum flooding your mouth.

you swallow all the cum down with a big gulp as kj pats your head to signal a thank you "well thanks for the time gentlemen but I really should get going" you say raising to your feet and heading for the door "don't be ridiculous now baby, we're not done" jacob says as he backs you onto the bed, you drop into the bed as you looked up at the tall burly man, kj and jacob began taking all your clothes all leaving you naked and nervous in front of them "such a pretty body too, cant wait to ruin it" kj says rubbing his hands up and down your body.

"i call first" jacob says "I wanna go first" kj argues back "but I called dibs first" jacob retorts "but im already right here so" kj replies, it was your dream come true, your two favorite (and hottest) celebrity crushes fighting over who'd get to use your hole first, you could've came right then and there "who do you want to fuck you first" kj asks bringing you into the argument seeing as it was your hole, you looked at both of them nervously not knowing if one answer was the right or wrong one "jacob" you say shyly.

"ha told you I'm better" jacob boasts moving kj out of the way to place himself between your legs "yeah yeah what ever" kj says moving out of the way "just know I'ma fuck the shit out of you once I get my turn" kj whispers in your ear obviously a little furious you'd rather get fucked by jacob before him "leave him alone you're scaring him" jacob says aligning him self with your hole and then sliding his thick cock in making you moan out loudly "oh fuck, you okay" jacob asks wanting to make sure he wasn't hurting you.

"yeah I'm good" you say with shut eyes "okay then" jacob smirks before moving his dick deeper, you let out small whimpers as jacob went deep and deeper in you, making you grip the sheets for stability "so deep" you mutter "you got this just a little more" kj encourages caressing your head, you look up at his with teary eyes, but he looked at you with lustful needy eyes "there we go" jacob says all the way in you "you look so full" kj says rubbing the slight bulge in your belly "fuck me please" you whimper lowly "speak up for me" jacob says "please fuck me" you say louder.

"ask and you shall receive" jacob says plunging in and out of you slowly but soon picking up pace, you could feel his dick reaching places in you that had never been touched or even grazed, you could feel your brain turning to mush as you became dumb on dick, wanting more and more of it "you like that" kj asks "mhm" you nod holding onto his hand tightly as jacob gripped his large hands into your hips "please please go faster" you beg "are you sure you could take that" jacob asks "I don't care please just go faster" you plea wrapping your legs around his waists to lock him in place.

"fine whatever you say" jacob says putting you in full mating press, knees around jacobs shoulders and hole on full display before he slams into you roughly again and again giving you no time to recover from his relentless pace "fuck fuck fuck" you moan as you could feel your climax coming soon "I love your dick so much" you whine out loudly as the bed creaked with each plap on your ass, although you couldn't see kj you could feel his eyes burning into your skull as he stared at you with jealousy written all over his face "you want me to cum in this hole" jacob huskily asks "please do daddy, I wanna feel you flood my guts" you moan out.

jacob doesn't say anything and continue ls pounding you out roughly and after a couple more thrusts he cums in you, his dick twitching as you tightened around him wanting every drop of cum "damn you know how to take some dick" jacob chuckles pulling out of you and moving out of the way for a very mad kj to step in front of you with a mad expression on his face "please fuck me sir" you whine fingering your loose hole as the cum drips out "one eager slut huh" kj says thrusting into you without warning and giving you zero time to adjust, he pounds into you with no slowing down "wait please" you try and stop his thrusts.

"ah ah don't fucking move, your slutty ass wanted this now have it" kj sternly says with a hint of anger "you're so thick" you moan "and you love it don't you" kj retorts gripping your thighs with a lot of force, and before you could even reply you feel you climax at its highest, begging to be let out "can i please cum" you plea weakly "bo youre gonna hold it in like a good boy till we say so" kj orders, and although you wanted to blow your load so bad you did as you were told and held your load, tip red from the straining "good boy now take this cum" kj groans as he cums in you for the second time, filling you with so much cum it felt like you were pregnant.

"still not done" jacob says lifting you up laying you on his chest in full nelson position, "wait please I'm so tired" you weakly say "rest when we're done with you" kj says getting on the bed out scooting between your legs and slapping his again hard dick on your hole "just one more time for us baby" jacob coos kissing your cheek as he slides his dick up into you making you drop your head onto his shoulder, already feeling so full you feel over more stretched out when kj pushes into you roughly, a slew of heavy breaths fall from your mouth along with shallow moans "so full" you mutter.

jacob and kj look at each other and smirk before moving their cocks back and forth in you, you could fell the friction of both dicks moving on you, the left over cum working as lube to make it easier "please please please" you beg "use your words for us baby, what do you want" jacob asks "your cum... please cum in me daddy" you beg rutting your hips weak and erratically "what do you think kj, ya think the slut deserves another load" jacob asks pulling your face up to look at kjs' "he's done so good for us lately so I think we should let him have it" kj says grunt as he feels his climax coming for the third time "but don't think we're gonna leave you outta the fun" jacob chuckles wrapping his large hand around your aching dick and stroking it with a relentlessly fast pace.

you moan out at the overwhelming amount of ecstasy going on "m'gonna cum" you yell before you cum in jacobs hand, he still jerks you off even after you've cum too help you ride out your high, you nearly faint from the sex but kj lightly smacks your cheek to bring you back "don't give out on us now" kj smirks watching you hold onto what ever sanity you have slip away, after what gelt like an eternity of relentless fucking, you could make out jacob and kj saying they're about to cum, and not long after you felt both of their cums flood your guts, both of them groaning out and still thrusting into you after cumming to make sure the cum stays in you.

you fell asleep after that but you could hear kj and jacob bragging about how they fucked you to sleep and how they did so well, you woke up to an empty room that still reeked of the smell of sex, naked and feeling weak, you felt something in your and moved your hand down to see what it was, as you felt it you realized it was a butt plug, as you came to your senses you looked over to see there was a note on the table the note read "if you're reading this we're gone but if you're whole job thing doesn't work out you could come 'work' for us ;)" you read the note and chuckled, turning it over you saw both of their numbers.

although when you did come back down to your job your boss fired you immediately for leaving your shift early but it all worked out because now you get too be a free use slut too the hottest men ever, getting filled load after load any time of the day.

taglist: @mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m

[buckets-and-trees]

Welcome Home, Pumpkin [sugar]

Characters/Pairings: Lloyd Hansen x curvy Female!Reader Word Count: 2k Summary: Bad ethics. Zero impulse control. This is what everyone says about him. What will it mean for you tonight?

Content/Warnings: pregnancy talk, use of pet name "Pumpkin," established relationship, explicit smut (vaginal intercourse, slight overstimulation, fingering, marking/biting), dacryphilia, dirty talk

Notes: This is one of three in a set of short stories with Lloyd served three ways - soft, soft!dark, and dark. The three will feature the same setting, overlapping themes, shared thoughts, and bits of dialogue. Sugar is the soft version. Also, this is the first time I've written something significant for just Lloyd - I've had him in a multi-character piece and some thots/drabbles, but *takes deep breath* first solo project for him from me! Thank you @stargazingfangirl18 for holding my hand periodically throughout this!

sugar pumpkin | spiced pumpkin | smashed pumpkin

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You shut the door behind you and sigh, happy to be home after a long day - a long week, really. 

You kick off your shoes, drop your bag, and turn on some music before padding down the hallway to your bedroom, more than ready to change from your more professional clothes to something comfy to lounge in the rest of the evening. 

You jump when a deep, serious voice you aren’t expecting says, “Welcome home, Pumpkin.”

Your heart rockets into your throat, hand flying to your chest. “Lloyd Hansen!”

He chuckles, rising from the spot he’d been perched on the edge of the bed. 

“You’re not supposed to be here!” 

He makes a show of bowing slightly, “And yet, here I am.”

You hesitate in the doorway, studying the face of the man you are so familiar with. The steel blue eyes, the sharp jawline, the ridiculous mustache you’ve come to love. 

You can sense he’s eager, impatient, but he will wait for you to come to him. 

As if you’ve been anything but drawn to this man since the day you two first crossed paths. He was dangerous and certainly not suited for you. Yet that had changed, little by little, until you couldn’t imagine living your life without this fierce man folded into every part of it, and every part of your heart. 

“Are you going to tell me what you’re keeping from me?” he asks, lifting his chin just a fraction. 

And oh that look does something to you - the delicious swoop in your stomach that always makes you weak and eager for him. 

Slowly, you take measured steps toward him, biting your lip. 

How will he react? 

It’s been the question on your mind all week. 

“Pumpkin?” he presses, tone low, calculated. 

Two final steps to bring you nearly toe to toe with him and you reach for his hand. 

“There’s a little pumpkin on the way,” 

Lloyd opens and then closes his mouth. 

You can hear the beats of one of your favorite songs drifting to you down the hallway from the kitchen, and your heart races in anticipation, needing him to say something. 

You scrunch your nose. “Have I finally rendered you speechless?” you laugh, but there’s a nervous edge to it.

You’ve only spoken about children once, and it was fast, but that was then and hypothetically, and this was now and reality.   

Lloyd sits back on the bed, tugging you forward to stand between his legs. He brings each of his large hands to your hips, then slowly rubs up and down your sides, eyes focusing on your stomach. 

“I knew it,” he whispers. 

You place your hands gently on his broad shoulders. You leave the left one there, but your right hand smoothes over the tightly corded muscles, then up his neck until you’re cupping his jaw, encouraging him to look up at you. 

“Fuck. I wasn’t made to be a good father,” he says. 

You brush your fingers over his forehead. You’re the only one who gives him softness. Sometimes he leans into your touch, but this isn’t one of those times. His mind is too locked into this revelation. 

You tip your head down and press a kiss to his lips. He does kiss you back, and his hands squeeze your waist. 

“You weren’t made to be a good husband either,” you say, pulling back for a moment, looking directly in his eyes, “but you’re the husband I want.”

In one swift motion, Lloyd flips you around and has you on the bed pinned beneath him, body pressing into yours. He growls into your mouth as he claims you in another kiss. He props himself up slightly on one arm, and his other hand reaches to tear the front of your shirt open, rending the fabric in two. You look up at him, waiting with bated breath. 

“I’d burn down the world for you, you know that?”

“Mhmm,” you hum. Your body surges up, pelvis seeking his. “I do.”

He gives you what you want, grinding down into you, and you moan. “And fuck if I’m not already ready to burn it down for them, too,” he murmurs, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses down your chest. He pauses above your belly, tracing his fingers over your soft curves, where you’ll soon start to grow with his child.

Lloyd's touch is reverent, almost hesitant, as his fingers ghost over your skin. You've never seen him like this before - so gentle, so in awe. It makes your heart swell with love for this complicated man.

"I never thought..." he trails off, voice thick with emotion.

You card your fingers through his hair, encouraging him to continue. "Never thought what, my love?"

He looks up at you, eyes shining. "That I could have this. A family. Something pure and good."

You cup his face in your hands, drawing him up for a tender kiss.

"You deserve it," you whisper against his lips. "We deserve it."

Lloyd pulls back slightly, studying your face with an intensity that makes your breath catch. His thumb traces your cheekbone, then brushes over your bottom lip.

"I don't deserve you," he says, voice low and rough. He pulls back slightly, searching your eyes. "I've done terrible things, Pumpkin. Things that would make you run if you knew. But I'm too selfish to let you go."

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "I’ve told you before: I'm not going anywhere."

His lips crash into yours, hungry and demanding. You respond with equal fervor, arching into him as his hands roam your body, knowing every inch of it intimately after so much time spent like this, body to body, skin to skin, the rest of the world forgotten.

Lloyd breaks the kiss, leaving you breathless and wanting more. He trails his lips down your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin there. You gasp and tilt your head, giving him better access.

"Mine," he growls against your throat. "All mine."

"Yes," you breathe, fingers tangling in his hair. "Yours, Lloyd. Always yours."

His hands slide down to your hips, gripping them possessively. He pulls back to look at you, eyes dark with desire and something else - a fierce protectiveness that makes your heart race.

He yanks the clothing completely down and off your bottom half, and then he’s between your legs, cock out, and pushing his thick, blunt head inside you. You moan and clutch at his chest.

Lloyd growls, grabs your wrists, and pins them above your head in one of his giant hands.

Then he proceeds to fuck you.

Slowly.

Lloyd's pace is agonizing, each thrust deep and deliberate. You melt into him, and your eyes slip closed, but he won't allow it.

"Look at me," he demands, voice rough. He grips your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his. "That's it, Pumpkin. Let me see that pretty face.”

You don’t realize you are crying until you feel Lloyd thumbing the tears away from your cheek. Your heart skips a beat as you stare into his fierce, blue eyes. Lloyd's mustache twitches as he smirks, clearly enjoying the way you’ve gotten lost in the moment.

It only seems to spur Lloyd on, his thrusts becoming harder, but not faster. Each powerful movement forces small whimpers from your lips.

"Such sweet sounds," Lloyd murmurs, his breath hot across your face. "I can’t fucking get enough of hearing you sing for me like this."

Your body trembles beneath Lloyd's, overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze and the relentless rhythm of his hips. You strain against his grip on your wrists, desperate to touch him, to pull him closer.

"Please," you whimper, arching your back. "Lloyd, I need…"

He chuckles darkly, nipping at your earlobe. "What do you need, Pumpkin? Tell me."

"You," you gasp as he hits a particularly sensitive spot inside you. "All of you. Faster, harder…"

Lloyd releases your wrists, allowing you to wrap your arms around him and pull him flush against you. His muscular body covers yours completely as he picks up the pace, driving into you with renewed vigor.

"Like this?" he growls, snapping his hips forcefully.

"Yes!" you cry out, digging your nails into his back. "Oh god, yes!"

Lloyd buries his face in your neck, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin there as he pounds into you relentlessly. The room fills with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and your breathless moans.

You feel the tension building within you, coiling tighter and tighter with each powerful thrust. Lloyd's breath is ragged against your neck, his muscular body moving with a primal intensity that leaves you dizzy with desire.

"That's it," he growls, voice low and gravelly. “Fucking come around my cock, Mrs. Hansen.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, and you arch into him, chasing your release. Lloyd shifts slightly, changing the angle, and suddenly stars explode behind your eyelids. You cry out his name as you come.

Lloyd growls in satisfaction as he feels you clench around him, your body shuddering with pleasure. He doesn't slow his pace, driving you through your orgasm and beyond. The overstimulation makes you whimper and clutch at his shoulders.

"Lloyd," you gasp, voice trembling. "I can't—"

"You can," he insists, his tone brooking no argument. "And you will. Give me another, Pumpkin."

His hand snakes between your bodies, finding your sensitive bundle of nerves. He rubs tight circles there, timing his movements with with his thrusts.

Your body responds to Lloyd's expert touch, despite your protests. The overstimulation borders on painful, but the pleasure builds again, impossibly intense. You're trembling, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as Lloyd pushes you relentlessly towards another peak.

"That's it," he growls, his voice strained with his own approaching climax. "Show me how good I make you feel."

With a keening cry, you shatter again, your body arching off the bed as waves of pleasure crash over you. Lloyd's movements become erratic as he chases his own release. His fingers dig into your hips, sure to leave bruises, but you don't care. You want to be marked by him, to carry the evidence of his passion on your skin.

"Fuck," he growls, his voice strained. "You're so goddamn perfect."

With a final, powerful thrust, Lloyd buries himself deep inside you and comes with a guttural groan. You feel the warmth of his release filling you, and you cling to him, savoring the weight of his body pressing you into the mattress.

You can feel his heart thundering against your chest, but Lloyd's weight is comforting, grounding you as your own heartbeat slowly returns to normal.

As you both come down, you lace the fingers of one of your hands with his, and your other hand drops down to stroke softly up and down his back.

Finally, Lloyd lifts his head from the crook of your neck, his steel blue eyes searching your face. His expression is softer now, a tenderness there that only you ever get to see.

But still, there’s a ghost of a smirk on his face. “You make me crazy, Mrs. Hansen.”

You laugh. “Don’t you mean, ‘I love you, Mrs. Hansen?’”

Lloyd's eyes crinkle at the corners as he chuckles, a low, rumbling sound that reverberates through your body. "Isn't that what I said?" he teases, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth.

You roll your eyes playfully, but your heart swells with affection. "I love you too, you impossible man."

He shifts, carefully rolling off you but keeping you close, tucking you against his side. His hand splays possessively over your stomach, and you can't help but smile at the gesture.

"A little pumpkin," he whispers.

“Ours,” you join your hand over his.

“Fuck,” he says, and you laugh and kiss him again.

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

all Welcome Home, Pumpkin stories

[her-power]

beg (joseph quinn x fem! reader)18+

warnings: language, strong sexual content, lots and lots of making out, bathroom fool around. It’s not that explicit (edit: it’s horny, whoops lol, there’s an unexpected belt restraining 😵‍💫) it’s playful, funny, but minors, stay the eff away.

summary: you run into JQ at a karaoke bar (I know, there’s a theme with these 😂) and drunkenly tell him that you wrote smut about him. he begs you to show him and he’s very…interested.

word count: idk, lots of words 🫠

You were drunk.

You didn’t mean to get this drunk, but there was something about the energy of a karaoke bar that made you want to get loaded. You had just finished singing Bohemian Rhapsody, and had received a roar from the crowd of people who sang along with you, and lots of clapping. Your friends wanted you to sing more, but you needed a break. And some water. You saunter over to the bar, asking for a glass of water which you chug down. Probably not the best idea, but you were thirsty, and it felt like it was thousands of degrees in the building. You took three ice cubes out of the glass and pop them in your mouth, cooling yourself down.

“Your Freddie Mercury dance moves was quite impressive.” A soft, English accented voice reaches your ears and you glance up at the man standing next to you. You gasp, an ice cube sliding down your throat causing you to choke a little. His eyes are wide and he’s almost laughing. “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to make you choke.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You manage to breathe out.

Joseph fucking Quinn was standing next to you.

“I’m sorry, that was rude, hi…you are…wow. I must be really drunk cause there is no way you’re standing next to me.” You suppress a giggle and he chuckles.

“Nope, I am a real.” He leans against the bar, twirling his beer bottle. “You good? No more choking?”

“Uh…” you laugh, blindly searching for the bar stool which he scoots behind you and you sit. “Need to sit down for this, why are you in the most rural part of town at a hole in the wall karaoke bar?”

He laughs. “Been filming a movie the next town over, got some nice beaches down this way. This seemed like a good place to be unrecognizable.”

He meets your eyes.

Gods, he was beautiful.

You blush and look away. “Came to the right spot, it’s dim, dreary, smells like piss and shame. I don’t think my friends know where I went.” You glance around the bar, spotting your friends sitting at the table in the corner, drunkenly crying. Yeah, sitting right here feels much better than that, you think.

“My favorite kind of place.” He giggles. “What are you drinking?”

“You…NOPE…wow. Intrusive thoughts won, I’m so sorry.” You put your palms over your face and he laughs loudly. “Ughhhh, this is not happening. I’m making a fool out of myself in front of such a beautiful man. I used to be so good at this.”

“I think you’re being pretty adorable.” He says close to your ear and you almost yelp. He giggles at your behavior and you tell him you’ve been drinking bourbon all night. He orders you a drink and your hand shakes as you bring the rim to your lips.

“Easy, love. You don’t need to be nervous around me.” He nudges you with his shoulder and you relax a little.

“How do I know you’re not like Ted Bundy? Hmm?” You smile at him, taking a sip of his drink.

“Do I look like a serial killer?”

“Ted Bundy didn’t.” You counter and he smiles.

“Touché, but no, I’m not here to kill you.”

“Oh yeah? What are you here to do to me?”

Foot. In. Mouth. You’re gonna make him leave, you’re gonna make him go away by just being a fucking creep.

“What do you want me to do to you?” His voice is low, and your heart beats rapidly as you stare at him with your mouth hanging open. He smirks at you, gently taking his finger and lifting your chin to close your mouth, and winks.

“Oooookay…we’re flirting. This is…okay. Why do I feel like I’m in a setting of one of my stories?”

“Stories?”

Fuck me.

You groan. You need to learn to stop talking to yourself in public, because shit like this happens and you spill secrets you’re not supposed to spill. “Huh? What? No…I mean…nothing, it’s nothing.”

“Friends don’t lie.”

“Oh we’re friends? You don’t even know my name.”

“So tell me.” He turns towards you, your elbows are touching and his eyes are staring deep into yours, they subtly glance down your form and then meet your eyes again. You bite your bottom lip, smiling and tell him your name. “Okay, now we’re friends.”

“I’m not telling you what I said.” You laugh, sipping your drink. He looks at you shocked and the way he moved his head back was comical, you choke on your drink again.

“That is very rude and not fair.”

You roll your eyes. “Fine, I wrote a story about you awhile back.”

He points to himself and smiles. “What kind of story?”

“You don’t wanna know.”

“Oh but I do.” He slides your bar stool closer to him. “Whisper it.”

He’s so close to you, you can smell his cologne and the subtle aroma of beer on his breath. You just stare at him, not answering him. “It’s naughty isn’t it?”

You look away from him, and blush. He gasps excitedly. “Show me!”

Your eyes widen. “What?! No way! It’s embarrassing and it’s horny.”

“Even better.”

“No.” You lean into him and smile. He groans, draping his arm over the back of your chair.

“What do I have to do to get you to show me?” His mouth is so close to yours. You wondered what his lips felt like. You had imagined it, clearly.

“Beg for it.” You smile and he laughs.

“Is that what I do in your story? Beg?”

A tingle forms in your belly at the way he said that and you blush. “I’m just kidding.”

“What if I’m not?”

“Okay, you need to settle down.” You laugh, playfully pushing him away and he giggles. “Can’t believe I’m flirting with you right now, this is insane. I have to pee…watch my drink.”

He smirks, sliding your drink next to his and placing his jacket over the back of your seat. Your legs immediately start shaking as you make your way to the bathroom, your friend Stacey is coming out of the bathroom as you open the door.

“Hey! We’re going, do you need a ride?” She asks you.

You glance back at the bar. “No, I’m okay. I can take an Uber home.”

“By yourself? I don’t know if I feel right about that.”

You gently pat her face. “I’ll be fine. I don’t really wanna share a ride with you all crying about what happened on Love Island.”

She laughs. “Shut up, I know. I hate myself too. Okay, please text me when you get home. Don’t go home with any strangers.” She kisses your cheek.

“Yes, mom.”

Ha, if only she knew.

Although, was he a stranger?

Yes, dumbass.

But, a highly known stranger.

Not in the middle of nowhere USA.

You push open the stall door, quickly do your business and wash your hands. There was no one else in there with you, and you took a minute to look over yourself in the mirror. Your cheeks were flushed from the embarrassment of telling him you wrote a sex story about him, and also the fact that he was so…flirtatious and sexy. You adjust your high waisted jeans and pull your black cropped tank down. As of lately; you have grown to love your body and its shape, but you were suddenly feeling self conscious sitting next to a celebrity.

The door to the bathroom opens and you glance up in the mirror.

There he was. Smiling. Comedically tip toeing into the bathroom, locking the door while you stand there stunned.

“What are you-“ His hands are on your waist in a flash, and his soft lips press against yours, sweetly, gently. His hands go into your hair and a sigh escapes you, you almost fall backwards but he wraps his arms around your waist tighter, holding you to him. Your hands go to his chest, and you gently push him back, your lips falling away from each other with a smack. Your eyes dart back and forth from his eyes to his lips and he’s grinning at you.

“I’m sorry, I just couldn’t wait any longer.” He tells you and you still cannot find words.

He was a good kisser.

Maybe you could show him your story, but that could wait. You wanted to kiss him again, so you did. His tongue glides into your mouth and you groan, pushing your body against his, bumping into the wall, almost falling over the trash can. His hands find your thigh and squeeze gently, lifting you up delicately and your head slams against the automatic paper towel dispenser.

“Ow!” You laugh loudly as the paper towels come out behind you, vroooooom.

“Oh shit I’m sorry!” He pulls away from your lips quickly and holds your head. You laugh, holding his face and kissing him again. He smiles against your lips, his hand grips your waist and you sigh, moving your hands over his back, down past his ass and you pull his waist flush against you. He groans against your mouth, and lifts you on the bathroom counter. You didn’t care how gross this counter probably was, you just wanted to be close to him. He pushes himself between your legs and you could feel his hardness through his jeans. His lips find your throat and you gasp when he gently bites on your sensitive skin. His hand glides up your soft skin, over your bra and your nipple hardens as his palm grazes over your breast.

“Mmm…we should…stop…” You whisper against his neck.

“Do you want me to stop?” He whispers, his tongue flicks out over the vein at your throat and you moan, clawing at his back.

“No…but…not here…somewhere else.” You gasp.

He pulls away from you and smiles sweetly, kissing you again and helps you down from the counter. You unlock the door, surprised to see that no one was waiting to kick you guys out and as you exit the bathroom he takes your arm and pulls you to him, kissing you deeply. Your back hits the wall and you smile against his lips, his hands fisting through your hair.

“Yeah, get it girl!” A woman says as she makes her way to the bathroom and the two of you pull away laughing. You take his hand and take him to the outside patio, you patted yourself down to make sure your phone and wallet was still in your jeans. You find a vacant picnic table and sit on top of it, shaking the nerves out of your hands as you stare up at him. He smiles, his dimples showing and you blush.

His hand cups your face and you lean into it, he kisses your lips softly and sits down on the bench beneath you. You smile, opening your phone and go to your word document app. He lights up a cigarette and you cringe, holding the phone towards him.

His eyes light up. “Is this it?” And you nod. He giggles, his eyes scanning the first few paragraphs. “Wow, you’re a really good writer…oh…” he meets your eyes, his wide and playful. You blush looking away from him and he laughs, his hand gently squeezes your knee. “This is…horny.” His hand squeezes your thigh and you have to suppress a moan that is about to escape.

“He puts his mouth on your…whoa…whoaaaaa…” he meets your eyes again, his face is flushed. “It’s hot, is it hot? I’m sweating. If I read anymore I’m gonna take you on this table.” He hands the phone back to you and you giggle, covering your face with his hands. He stands over you, the cigarette dangling from his lips. You take it from him, inhale on it, and pull his face towards yours.

“Breathe in.” You tell him, as you exhale and the smoke comes out, your lips barely graze and he inhales, stepping back a little letting the smoke glide out of his lungs.

He blushes and smirks at you. “That was in there wasn’t it?”

You nod, biting your lip, handing him the cigarette. He smiles large, snuffing the cigarette out in the ashtray. He moves towards you, curling a piece of hair behind your ear. “You wanna get out of here?”

You stare into his eyes and nod. He grins, and as you’re about to open your Uber app he puts his hand over yours. “No need, I have a driver.” He nods to the back parking lot and you see a black livery car with a driver in the front seat. “Just tell me where to go.”

So, you tell him the direction to your house. You had snuggled up against his chest on the car ride, his hand softly rubs your shoulder and you pull up in front of your apartment building. He tells the driver to head back to the hotel and will call when he needs to get picked up. He follows you up the stairs to the second floor and you turn on your lights. You shut and lock the door, blushing again.

“Why do you keep blushing?” He teases, gently cupping your cheek.

“Because you’re in my apartment and have been kissing me all night.” You sigh. “And I’m confused on why out of all the beautiful women in the bar, you sought me out.”

“Well, none of those other beautiful women could sing Bohemian Rhapsody like you did.”

You roll your eyes. “If you were ten minutes earlier you would’ve seen my rendition of You Oughta Know.”

He laughs. “Now that would’ve made me beg for you.”

You’re not even all the way into your apartment before he’s kissing you. He practically drags you blindly into the living room and into the wall. He pushes his body against yours, kissing you deeply, his hands going over your belly and up your shirt. You gasp, gripping onto his forearms as he kisses down your chest, pulling your shirt over your head. His lips glide down your stomach until his on his knees, licking just above the button of your jeans and he pops the button. He gazes up at you, and your head falls back against the wall as he pulls your jeans down, and you step out of them. He grips your thighs, kissing them softly and his hands caress your backside. He pulls down your underwear and your entire body trembles, and you groan as his mouth goes on you like he was starving. You grip at his hair as he feasts on you, still pinching yourself because there was no way this was real and that he was doing this to you in your apartment.

His fingers glide inside you as he continues his feast, and you moan loudly, your body almost sliding down the wall but he holds you up with his free hand. He tells you to come in his mouth and your entire body reacts to his voice and how he curls his fingers deeper inside you. You tense up and you scream in pleasure loudly, holding onto the wall for support as you clench around his fingers and he moans against you. He pulls his fingers out of you and glides back up your body, kissing you passionately. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and he lifts you, you direct him to your bedroom and pushes open the door with his foot and he falls backwards on the bed, taking you with him. His hands move up your back as he kisses you and unhooks your bra, it falls down your arms and you toss it to the ground, straddling him and he bites back a moan as you scoot yourself back, pulling off his jeans. He sits up quickly, pulling his shirt over his head and you run your hand over his slightly toned tummy, crashing your lips against his. You couldn’t wait any longer for this, you end up pulling him out of the hole from his boxer briefs and you immediately lower yourself down on him.

A broken moan escapes you as he fills you up and his head falls back against the pillows. You rock your hips against him, your body trembles as his lips catch your nipple in his mouth and he gently bites down, you gasp loudly.

“Do you want me to beg?” He groans and you whimper as you rock your hips faster. You moan, a soft laugh escaping you and you nod. You move off of him, moving up his body like a snake and you kiss him deeply. You take his hands, holding both of them above his head, reaching down to take the belt you had on your jeans. His eyes light up and he giggles.

“Oh, we’re doing this.” He says with a chuckle, biting his lower lip.

“You’re an actor.” You smirk, wrapping the belt around his wrists and attached it to the bars on your headboard. “Act.”

“What if I’m not acting?” He clasps his hands together in the restraint.

You smirk, gazing down at him. “Even better.” You meet his soft lips, straddling him, and you could already tell he was getting frustrated because he couldn’t touch you. Your hand glides down his abdomen, over his hips and over his length. His lips buck and his eyes flutter close, a soft sigh escaping him.

You kiss his chest gently, running your tongue over his nipple and he groans. You meet his lips again, grinding your hips against his and reach down to touch him, you grip him hard and then stop.

“Please.” He whispers, almost whining.

“Please what?” You ask, smiling against his cheek, taking his jaw in your hand, turning his head to look at you and a seductive laugh comes out of his mouth with your forcefulness.

“Keep touching me.” He says, moving his face to kiss your lips. “I’m begging you.”

You grin, wrapping your hand around his length and fist him slowly. You lean down to kiss his neck and he moans as your hand picks up speed and his body is arching. “Let me fuck you.” He groans, struggling again. You meet his eyes, gently kissing him as your other hand reaches up to untie the belt from the headboard. His hands come down so fast, the belt goes flying and he’s taking your face in his hands, his tongue sliding into your mouth as he forces himself on top of you. He hooks your leg around his waist and pushing himself inside you hard. You moan loudly as he rolls his hips, the sensation of his speed and his pelvis grinding against you was causing you to feel so many different things at once. His noises were loud and so were yours, beautiful harmonies of two feral beings just needing to feel something.

Your orgasm was approaching fast and he could feel it too, so he slows down. Rocking into you slowly, gently, his lips soft against yours. His hands gently go through your hair and you didn’t know what was hotter: him taking his time with you or how animalistic he was moments ago. A whimper escapes you as you feel your orgasm approach, his breath was hot against your lips as your head falls back, and you’re holding onto his back as you come, this orgasm so much more powerful than the last one and he comes soon after you. His sounds deep, raspy, beautiful.

He lays with his head on your chest, catching his breath and you run your fingers over his hair. He looks up at you, cheekily grinning. “Now, that was a smut story.” He laughs loudly as you giggle, pushing him off of you and he falls to the floor with a thud. His head pops up as he looks at you, a mischievous smirk on his face.

“Now it’s your turn to beg.”

the end

[karaonasi]

BaxterMc Week Hosted by @minthe-drawings

Day 2: Date Night

Art of Kit and Baxter by @rui-drawsbox

Movie Night

The story idea behind the art:

Baxter and Kit planned on going to the Boardwalk for a date one day. Unfortunately, it was raining that day and was forecasted to do so all day. Disappointed, Baxter cancels the date. Kit decides it's a good day for a teachable moment: that you don’t have to have some grand plans or venue to have a meaningful time together. So Kit pitches the idea of staying in for a movie marathon. Despite Kit’s slight annoyance that Baxter insisted it would be best done at his family’s house, Kit arranges it with his moms who agree to retire early for the evening to their room to give the boys some semblance of time alone together.

The movies chosen are all black and white comedies in the vein of The Philadelphia Story, Some Like it Hot, It Happened One Night, Bringing Up Baby

At some point, Kit fell asleep, pulling Baxter against him. “You really are rather sweet, aren't you?" Baxter commented before dozing contentedly as well.

Kit was bashful when he came to. "God, I didn't do anything embarrassing like drool on you or anything, did I?"

Baxter laughed. “You called my name in your sleep.” He gave Kit a sidelong look. "Were you dreaming about me Kit?" he asked coyly.

Kit was slightly mortified, but couldn’t deny the truth. “...yeah…” Not that it was only just then. Kit had been dreaming of his Fae Prince since that single dance when he was thirteen years old. Not that he was about to admit that out loud. Instead he defaulted to his usual when things got slightly uncomfortable: joking or teasing. “Shouldn't I be dreaming about my boyfriend?"

“You're very sweet, Kit,” Baxter repeated his earlier thought aloud.

Kit snorted. " I didn't say what I was dreaming about.” He leveled a playful mock leer at his boyfriend.

Baxter barked a laugh, then smirked at the younger boy. “Oh, you had me snuggled rather close. I didn't need words to be able to tell.”

When they finally noticed the TV, the prior movie had ended some time ago. So Kit put It Happened One Night on as the next feature.

“Clark Gable?” Baxter asked, lifting a sculpted brow, obviously recollecting their conversation on their first sideways retroactive date.

Kit nodded. “Did you know that this movie single-handedly decimated the undershirt industry?” He gently pushed Baxter back so he could rest his head against the older boy’s chest.

Baxter laughed, “Aren't you the one that picked out the movie? Don’t you have any intention of actually watching it?”

“Nope. I’ve seen it four times. ‘S’why I picked it,” He answered contentedly from his position.

“So you planned this movie event, banishing your family to their rooms to not even watch the movie?” Baxter asked, though he was mostly teasing.

“Well, there is a perfectly empty condo across the street that we could have used,” Kit mostly teased back.

Baxter’s hand stroked his cheek. “You know that isn’t the best idea.”

Kit thought it was a perfect idea, actually. But he did understand what Baxter meant. A kissing session in a house alone together could turn into a full on make out session…or more…very easily. Not that Kit would have minded testing that theory. But Baxter seemed to think their movie watching should be where they could be walked in on at any time to keep things under better control.

“Well, I’m the morning person, not the night owl,” Kit changed my tactic. “And since we started late…“ he snuggled further back against his boyfriend, pillowing his head on Baxter’s very toned but slender chest, wrapping his arms around his tiny waist.

Baxter let out a low chuckle. “You are an affectionate one,” he observed with amusement (not for the first time).

“Mhm…” he smelled wonderful. And while his body was toned and firm, there was still a bit of softness that made him comfortable to lie upon.

But after their prior nap, neither was terribly tired. Kit slid up to nip at Baxter’s bottom lip, which transitioned into the younger boy leaning over Baxter to kiss him more insistently. Baxter’s hand slid cautiously under the bottom edge of Kit’s shirt, drawing from him a gasp. “Is this okay? Or should I stop?” the purring voice inquired without Baxter’s lips parting from his partner’s. In answer, Kit slid his hand up a wonderfully toned dancer’s thigh.

“Ahem! You two need to get a room.”

“...frak me…” Kit groaned softly as he recognized the annoyed tone of his sister.

A low chuckle sounded in Kit’s ear, “Is that a proposition, Darling?” Baxter turned to the door as if nothing was amiss while his boyfriend went into .exe failure. “Good evening, Miss Elizabeth. We were just having a movie night. You are welcome to join us, of course.”

“Yeah. don’t mind us. We’ll just continue what we were doing,” Kit added with a wide, devious grin.

Kit watched her shudder to his great satisfaction. “Ew. No thanks.” Kit could see the wheels turning, his sister just itching to get a dig in about Baxter and his unique fashion sense. But she behaved. “Good night you two. Behave.”

Kit snorted as he watched Liz retreat up the stairs.

“So what would you like to do now, Kit?” Baxter asked, looking at the movie in progress that they hadn’t paid attention to in the slightest.

“More of the same?”

Baxter paused. “I’m not sure that is the best idea.” His eyes traveled from where Liz just disappeared up the stairs, then to the closed door leading to Kit’s parents’ master suite.

Kit shook his head. “We could have gone to your place, you know.”

The college boy nodded but it wasn’t a convinced one. “And I still maintain this was the best option.” He must have been able to see the ‘why?’ question in Kit’s expression because he continued. “The best option for you. You said you wanted this to be a real relationship. I would rather not take the chance of treating it as a one night stand.”

“--oh--” Kit’s blush was burned all the way to the tips of his ears.

“Exactly. Here at least~” he waved toward the shared living space and trailed off, reconsidering again.

Kit shook my head. “They aren’t late night people--”

He snorted. “That explains some things about you, Early Bird.”

The Californian rolled his eyes and continued. “They aren’t coming out until morning unless there’s some emergency.”

“And your sister?”

Kit laughed, remembering how she shuddered. Twice. “She’s looking for brain bleach about now to remove what she already saw. No way is she gonna come even close to those stairs.”

Baxter tilted his head and he could watch that very busy mind of his at work. Then one side of his mouth tilted up. “Are you sure you’re up for this?”

The younger boy smiled at him bright and playful, though his heart was racing. “Bring it!” He challenged, remembering that little quirk of Baxter’s personality that he didn’t like to leave a challenge unmet.

Several minutes later, Baxter pulled back, chuckling with amusement as Kit lay panting and dizzy on the couch following their latest session…

[scoobyrooster1]

"But to Qimir it also unearthed how little he truly knew you. And something he couldn't predict or control... that probably terrified him."

Their relationship is so realistically tense and terrible i LoVe it. Because YEAH Qimir having 'killed my last teacher <3 ' in their resume doesn't really mean anything good for YOU does it.

I agree! Thats something that Qimir might want to consider haha! Glad you like it!

She's Mine [Part 2]

Qimir x (she/her)!reader

Summary: You and Qimir travel with the crew to Corinth where you pose as a high class bidder at a black market auction. However, a few unexpected events complicates your mission leaving you wounded and with more questions than answers about the nature of the job. Warnings: Angst, cursing, violence Notes: This is a slow burn story between you and Qimir. I've been researching high republic history and I'm really excited for the next chapters!

*Im trying my best to use canon history but high republic era is a little difficult so there will be discrepancies and times where I have to improvise... bear with me!

She's Mine Masterlist

She's Mine [Intro] She's Mine [Part 1]

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

One month ago...

Under the thick canopy of trees, the clearing was small, just enough space for the two of you to move without constraint.

You and Qimir had stopped on this planet for a brief respite, also provding one of the few places you could train without drawing unwanted attention.

"Again," Qimir instructed, his voice steady and commanding.

You tightened your grip on the wooden stick in your hand. The makeshift training weapon was a far cry from a lightsaber, but it would have to do. You squared your stance, bringing the stick up in a defensive position.

Qimir moved fluidly as he swung his own stick toward you. You managed to block the first strike, the wood clashing with a sharp crack. But Qimir was relentless. His next move was faster, a low sweep aimed at your legs. You jumped back just in time, narrowly avoiding the strike. You were able to catch your breath if only for a moment as he spoke.

“Keep your elbow up,” he reminded you. “Or else I'll catch you before you can block.”

You nodded, trying to focus on his advice even as your muscles burned from the exertion. It had been a long time since you trained like this. Your heart beat inside your chest so rapidly and with such force that you thought it would burst. You had to remember to control you breathing, only letting air pass through your nose, and conserve what little stamina you had left.

Qimir lunged again. You lifted your arm to block, but your elbow dropped just a fraction of an inch too low. His stick slipped past your defense, tapping your ribs with just enough force to sting. Your torso buckled over in response.

Stepping back to give you a moment to recover, he didn't need to tell you what you had done wrong.

"I get it." You said sternly.

"You need to anticipate the next move. Don't just react—predict."

You clenched your jaw in frustration, wiping the sweat from your face with the back of your hand.

You took a deep breath and adjusted your stance, raising your arm higher this time. Qimir watched you carefully, nodding in approval before launching into another series of attacks. You parried each one, your movements more precise now, more controlled.

The two of you moved in a deadly dance, sticks clashing and feet shifting on the soft earth. You began to lose yourself in the rhythm of it, your mind clearing as your body took over.

It was just you and Qimir, the world narrowed down to the space between your bodies.

Until his stick found your ribs again.

Qimir stepped back, lowering his weapon. "Better," he said, his voice softer now, less harsh. "Still a lot to learn."

You made a face about to mock him for saying a high and mighty master line.

He caught you before you could. "Don't start."

You just laughed, then nodded, panting from the effort. Your arms felt like lead, but there was a sense of satisfaction in knowing you had improved, even if just a little.

"Thats enough for today," he said, tucking his stick under his arm.

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

You jolted awake shaking off the memory that overcame your senses.

You had been traveling for a few hours and had fallen asleep regret-tingly straining your neck in the process. Qimir sat on the other side of the cargo hold.

After the heated discussion you both had… yeah it was probably for the best.

You had both taken precautions to hide any personal items that wouldn’t classify as civilian.

I.E. one cortosis helmet, vambrace, and lightsaber.

You remembered tracing your fingers over the embedded scars of the metal. It was terrifyingly beautiful.

Try it on.

Those words sent shivers through your entire body.

You wondered if when you returned to Qimirs little backwater planet, you too would craft something made of the precious metal.

Would we ever be able to return?

"Put these on"

Ian had thrown a duffle at your feet. You unzipped the bag to find far nicer clothes than the ones you were wearing.

"What happened to drawing less attention?"

“You’ll be bidding with some serious credits, you need to look as though you didn’t just crawl out of a bantha pit.”

You didn’t bother to scowl at Ian for his cruel joke.

“And who will I be today?”

“Bidder 79.”

“Lovely.”

The outfit was formal, modest, a suit-like ensemble made from breathable fabric in dark hues of blue and gray. You took one of the scarves from the bag and wrapped it around your head and hair. The less recognizable you were, the better.

“Don’t look at anyone, don’t talk to anyone, don’t answer any questions you don’t have to—”

“I think she gets it” Qimir interrupted, his voice curt.

“Don’t do anything stupid.” Ian finished.

You gave Ian all the confirmation he deserved. "Don't do anything you would do... got it."

You were dropped at the nearest corner with Rod following closely behind.

The coordinates Ian had provided led you to a rough, gritty part of the city, where the streets were narrow and the air thick with the scent of smoke and decay. The towering buildings around you were a patchwork of cracked concrete, rusted metal, and flickering neon signs, casting eerie glows onto the damp pavement. You approached the entrance of a large, nondescript building, its facade faded and crumbling, blending seamlessly into its surroundings.

Pushing through the heavy, rusted door, you stepped into a dimly lit lobby. The few figures loitering in the shadows eyed you with suspicion. You made your way to an elevator at the far end of the room, its grated door screeching as you pulled it open.

The elevator groaned to life, descending into the depths below the city. As you felt the air grow cooler and the hum of the city above fade into silence, your pulse quickened. When the doors finally slid open, you were greeted by a stark contrast.

Before you lay the Corinth black market, a sprawling underground bazaar hidden beneath the city. The space was vast, its ceiling arched and lined with cables and dim, industrial lights casting a dull glow over the scene. The market was alive with activity—merchants hawking their illicit wares from makeshift stalls, the air buzzing with whispered deals and low, guttural conversations in a dozen different languages. The scent of exotic spices, machinery, and lawlessness filled your nose.

The Corinth black market was a place where laws were only mere suggestions.

Rules, Rules, Rules... If you don't follow them, you never have to break them.

Minutes later, you found yourself seated in an uncomfortable chair, dark lenses shielding your eyes as you scanned the stage ahead. You were in a small room dimly lit but far richer than the bazaar outside. The items up for auction you guessed based on size and weight was a mix of trinkets and far more dangerous contraband, all locked away in secure containers.

Your client had provided you with only a number, leaving you in the dark about what you were actually bidding on. Your job was to outbid everyone else. Rod, as Ian assured you, would make sure you had the funds to back up whatever figure you landed on. How they’d managed that was another mystery, but one you didn’t need to solve.

“Item number XN2187”

Your eyes tracked the stage.

This was it.

What the staff placed on the table next made absolutely no sense to you.

It was a book... or... a journal?

"Let’s start the bid at 100,000 credits."

Maker.

You had to withhold your gasp.

Two people had already called out raising the bid to 250,000 within 3 seconds.

You threw your card up.

“300,000.”

You saw another card go up near the front.

“350,000”

Maker how could a journal be worth this much.

You raised your card again with no hesitation.

“400,000.”

They matched it again. "4500,000."

“500,000”

It was all fake credits and Ian had given you your instructions... attain that item at whatever price... better to end it right here.

You waited for their response, but there was none.

Got it.

“Sold...to number 79.”

Small claps ensued.

You headed to the back of the stage where the transactions were being held.

Suddenly your path was blocked, now inches away from a hooded figure.

"Whatever your being paid, we can double it." They hissed in your ear.

Rod glanced at the human stranger with his fixed glowing pinpoint eyes that seemed to show concern even for a droid.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about." You continued to walk past them.

They grabbed your forearm. Their grip was strong.

“You take it and you’re a dead woman walking.”

You could now see their face. A male human with rusty brown hair and dark eyes.

You shook off the strangers hand and stated with cold indifference, "I already am."

Your response seemed to catch him off guard.

You shrugged him off turning away, finally reaching the desk behind the curtains.

"Bidder 79?" the attendant confirmed.

"That's right. Item XN2187."

"Please have your droid exchange the credits for your purchase."

Rod stepped forward, inserting his chip into the computer. A moment later, a man presented the box.

The attendee looked at the screen, seeming pleased. "Thank you madam. Have a wonderful evening."

Your breath resumed as you smoothly took the box and gave the courtier a smile. What ever Rod had done it had worked. You cracked it open checking that the item was inside.

Rodney turned in the other direction taking a different route to meet back up at the rendezvous.

That had been surprisingly easy.

"See you back at the ship." You whistled as you turned into the crowd behind.

Something struck your mind. The force had shifted near you and you could feel it. You started scanning your surroundings more carefully.

Watch out.

You unholstered your gun but it was too late.

It was all of 2 seconds before you felt the box knocked out from under your forearm. The force of a back kick to your chest sent you crashing to the ground. Dirt filled your mouth as you hit the earth, the impact reverberating through your body. Your blaster had been sent flying across the ground.

Damn it had been a while since you were hit that hard.

Gritting your teeth, you turned to face your assailant— female Twi'lek with green skin, her imposing figure casting a shadow over you. Her face sheathed in fabric and some manner of breathing apparatuses. Time seemed to slow, the sounds of the chaotic crowd fading into the background.

The journal had fallen out of the box now laying between you and your attacker.

It was too valuable to lose. You couldn't just run.

You pushed yourself off the ground, moving faster than you had fallen. As the warrior lunged for the book, you reacted instinctively, snapping your leg out to kick their hand away. The clash of metal and bone echoed in your ears as you simultaneously snatched journal, pulling it close to your chest. The adrenaline surged through your veins as you regained your footing, your breath coming in short, sharp bursts.

She charged at you closing the distance swiftly. You dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding her grasp. She swung her arm in a wide arc that forced you to duck, the wind from her strike grazing the top of your head.

With the book still clutched tightly to your chest, you spun around, using your momentum to drive your elbow into the Twi'leks side. The impact caused her to stagger.

She recovered swiftly, raising her arm to strike again this time brandishing a small blade. You heaved your body from left to right to dodge, the knife dancing centimeters away from your chest.

You dodged another stab. But she was smart. The Twi'lek flipped the blade through the air catching it with her left hand. You felt a sharp pain spread in your chest. Too distracted with the wound in your right side, you failed to notice her right hand swinging towards you head.

Your brain rattled inside your skull as you hit the earth. Applying pressure to the bleed you turned your pounding head upwards. She picked up the journal from the floor, her other hand now brandishing a blaster pointed directly at your forehead.

"Should've taken the deal"

You only stared down the barrel of her gun. This couldn't be the end.

You wouldn't let it be the end. You blinked. She pulled the trigger. A shot rang out.

You weren't dead.

You stared at the gun.

The blaster shot hung suspended in mid-air, glowing red just inches from your nose.

It floated there, trembling as if struggling against an invisible force, caught between you and the barrel.

Qimir.

You almost couldn't breathe and realized it could only last for so long. You ducked your head before the shot could continue its intended path, piercing the dirt behind you, leaving a small scorched black hole in its wake.

Your breathing was rapid and deep as stared at the hole in the ground that was intended for your head.

The Twi'leks eyes widened. Baffled by what she had just witnessed.

"You... you're a jedi." She sounded as disgusted as she was surprised.

“Not quite.”

In a fluid motion, you kicked a cloud of dust up towards her face. She loosen her grip on the journal stumbling back. Sprinting past her you grabbed the book, the pain of the stab wound luckily numbed by the adrenaline coursing through you. She roared in frustration, but you were already several paces ahead.

You could hear her quick footsteps behind you, but you didn't look back. Your only thought was to put as much distance between you and her as possible.

You ducked into an alleyway once you thought it was safe to stop, determined to sacrifice just a moment to see what you were truly risking your life for.

You opened the book.

Scribbles you couldn't understand filled page after page. Flipping through it all you couldn't make any sense of it.

You stopped at the back of the last page.

Written then carved delicately into the leather near the binding was a name.

Mari San Tekka.

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

The plan had gone off without a hitch... if you hadn't included the unknown assailant that almost put a blaster hole through your skull.

Closing the blast doors, you buckled over, heart still racing. You ran your fingers over your cheek which was tender to the touch. It had to be badly bruised and you could better feel the one developing across your chest now that the adrenaline was wearing off. Not to mention the blood dribbling down your side.

"That went well."

Qimir had caught you off guard. You didn't think he'd be back to the ship by now with how much of a crowd that stood between you and the ship.

You inhaled deeply resting against the cold metal wall your right hand still pressing the right side of your ribs.

“You had me worried.”

You paused for a moment. You had him… worried?

"I thought I'd have to find a new acolyte after today."

You relaxed your shoulders dropping your hands into fists.

"You son of a bitch."

He smiled with his teeth, his eyes taunting, but his smile faltered when he saw your now exposed lower chest wound.

"That looks serious." You couldn't tell if he was still joking or being earnest. "And what a foul name to call with your mas--"

The ship doors hissed open.

In walked Ian and Rod.

Qimir went quiet not daring to finish his sentence. They didn't need to know what you and Qimir were. If they did, they'd all be dead.

The Jedi say I can't exist. They see my face... They all die.

If that's what it took for Qimir to shut his mouth then fine.

You snapped back to reality reapplying pressure to your side and took the opportunity to interrogate Ian.

"What the hell was that." You yelled.

Ian look disgruntled. "Seems like this cargo is more high priority than I thought."

"Ya think?" You only gave him a pleading look in response.

"Look nothing has changed. You knew what you signed up for."

"I didn't sign up for this... remember?"

"Rod, signal Shaun and Kiro. Prep the hyperdrive, set a course for Canto Bight... You might wanna take care of that." He motioned to the wound that was still leaking blood at your side. "Theres a med bay. Two rights and left."

"Thanks." You started walking towards the doors slightly lightheaded from the blood loss.

He extended a hand. "Here let me help. That looks bad."

You waved him off. "I've got it." Before disappearing down the hall to the med bay.

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

Luckily, Ian had the sense to keep a decent med droid on board. With how sketchy most of his jobs were, it would be foolish not to. The droid had effectively stopped the bleeding, stitched it close, applied bacta fluid, and recommended a pressure dressing before shutting down.

Okay, so not a fully functional droid.

You pulled out the rolls of gauze and compression wraps. The droid had cut through your bloody shirt to access the wound, leaving the tattered fabric hanging from your shoulders. In the mirror, you could see the damage--your chest was mildly bruised, the skin slowly turning a deep purple, especially closer to the wound. You applied a generous amount of gauze and began wrapping the bandage around your chest.

You managed 6 tight loops before a sharp pain made you wince, the movement of extending your torso and raising your arms too much to bear. Breathing deeply, you tried to steady both your head and your heart.

Then, a sudden movement caught your eye, and you nearly reopened the wound as you jumped—Qimir was standing in the now open doorway, silently watching you.

"Maker, you scared me... How long have you been standing there?"

"Not long enough."

"Ha. Ha." You mocked, still guarding your chest, covered but only by a sheer wrap.

"Need help?"

"I got it."

He gave you a look that said, Yeah, sure you do.

You sighed deeply. Every breath was painful. "Fine."

He walked up to where you sat on the med table, glancing at the now deactivated med droid.

"The droid couldn’t do it?"

You tilted your head in response.

"I can call Ian to wrap the rest. He seemed pretty eager," you teased.

Qimir clenched his jaw, clearly not amused, and quickly seized the large roll of gauze from your hand.

"Put your arms around me."

You shot him an incredulous look.

"Maker, you're difficult," he muttered, rolling his eyes dramatically. With a gentle touch, he grabbed your hands and placed them on his shoulders. Then, he took the roll and began wrapping it around the rest of your chest.

You let your hands move closer to his neck, lacing your fingers together and allowing your arms to sag, finding a small amount of relief.

"It's a faulty piece of equipment," you continued. "Leave it to Ian to have a semi-working med droid on a risky job."

Qimir's eyes were only focused on his hands, meticulously layering the bandaging over your wound, making sure it was secure.

"Hey, my eyes are up here," you quipped.

His focus remained unwavering, but you noticed a small smile tug at the corners of his lips.

You allowed yourself to dissolve into this moment. It was innocent, and it was yours.

He finished the last length of the bandage, gently tucking it into the top wrap. His fingers brushed against your skin, and your breath hitched slightly. If he noticed, he pretended not to. Both his hands now rested softly against your ribs, checking the stability of his work. Your hands remained on his shoulders.

He looked up at you.

You met his gaze.

"If you let someone get that close, you must make every decision with confidence and conviction. Remember—"

"Don't react, predict," you repeated the mantra.

"There's no room for error in a fight that close."

"Yes, master," you added with a touch of sarcasm.

He only nodded, still getting accustomed to your use of the title.

"Thank you," you said, recalling what had happened only hours ago.

"For the wrap?"

"No. For saving me."

"Saving you?"

"The blaster shot."

"... You're welcome."

He released you, making you remove your arms from his shoulders.

The moment was gone... and something in you would've done anything to get it back.

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

The sound of the ship rattling against the void of space ripped you from sleep. The walls trembled, and a deep, ominous roar echoed from the rear of the ship, filling you with an immediate sense of dread. You ducked out of your cot.

Qimir was already on his feet.

Before you could fully grasp what was happening, he was out the door, and you were right behind him. The cold, metallic floor vibrated beneath your bare feet as you both sprinted down the dimly lit corridor.

Suddenly, the ship lurched violently, a brutal force that sent both of you stumbling. You felt yourself losing balance, your body careening toward the metal wall. But before you could brace for impact, Qimir’s hand shot out, grabbing you by the waist. He swiftly twisted his body, pulling you against him, sending himself backwards.

His back slammed into the wall with a sickening thud. You felt the force of it reverberate through him as he grunted, but his grip on you remained firm.

For a second your chin rested on his collar bone. His mouth grazing your forehead and hair. The heat of his body was a stark contrast to the cold metal wall you were expecting moments ago. You were pressed against his chest, your breath catching as you looked up at him. His expression unreadable.

"Your stitches." He questioned.

"Fine." You assured him.

He only scanned you for a moment then let go of you continuing to walk down the corridor. You hesitated for one second, your heart still racing, before following him.

When you had finally reached the cockpit you found Ian walking toward you and through the doorway before grunting. "Might be a problem with the hyperdrive. We have to make a pit stop."

Any thoughts of Qimirs skin against yours was gone.

You followed him back down the hall.

"Qimir."

He stopped.

You gave him a look.

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

"Mari San Tekka” he repeated the name you had given.

“Do you know that name?”

“Not the person, but the San Tekkas were a great dynasty, closely affiliated with the Republic as hypersurveyors”

"Hypersurveyors?"

"Mappers who worked for the clan, charting new hyperspace routes."

"The writing, I didn't see it at first but they could've been notes or calculations."

"Could you read any of it."

"I've seen hyperspace calculations before, but I didn't recognize the figures in this book. Why would someone risk so much to retrieve it?"

Qimir took a long pause. "I don't know."

The uncertainty laced in Qimirs voice irked you more than you'd like to admit.

———————————————

Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!

[alwayssassydreamer]

I Think I Love You

Day 29 of Kikitober

A/N: needed a fluffy story for kid and well this is the outcome, not proofread

Plot: Kid is trying to ask you on a date.

Warnings: a lazy fluffy story, maybe mention of reader getting hurt during a fight,

Characters: Kid x F!Reader, Killer (minor role)

been listening to this while writing

You were laying on the ground, a bleeding cut on your face barely missing your eye, your opponent standing over you his sword pointed at you.

You were sure you'd die here. Until your enemies sword got ripped out of his hand and then metallic pieces piercing through him. You heard a low voice. "Why the fuck is it so hard for you to listen to me. Killer take her to the ship" the voice ordered. You felt yourself being lifted up then you passed out.

Well you thought it was a good idea to take on the enemy by yourself which proved to be a horrible mistake. You were holding up pretty good but were caught by surprise when out of nowhere you heard Kid shout your name the little distraction was enough for that bastard to attack you.

"You really thought you can just jump into any fight? You had no backup!” he yelled at you after House patched you up. A scar now covering your face.

"I was doing just fine Kid, but you had to be the knight in shining armor coming to save the poor damsel" you shouted back.

"Maybe I am. You were about to get your head taken off! You should’ve stayed back!” he scoffed angrily stepping closer his hand squeezing your cheeks.

You pushed it away. "If you hadn't distracted me this would not have happened" you said pointing to your scar.

"So you blame me now?" He growled fire in his eyes.

You couldn't blame Kid, it was your own fault. He was just calling your name and you got distracted by it - distracted by someone calling your name, sounds actually a little pathetic.

You huffed and made your leave.

"Really? You're running away now" he yelled after you. You just put up your middle finger and made your way into the kitchen hoping to find Killer there.

"What's wrong" he asked as you hopped onto the counter sighing.

"He's still mad." You said frustrated.

"Don't mind it. That's his way of showing he cares" Killer hummed calmly.

"Great, I'd prefer it if he would stop yelling at me"

"Stop pouting little one. How would you react if it was him who got hurt" Killer asked and you could've sworn there was a mocking undertone in his voice.

You avoided to look at him feeling yourself blushing. You couldn't deny it but you felt a little attracted to the menace you call your captain.

"So? I'm waiting for an answer" Killer teased as he made you look at him.

"Don't recall your cheeks being this red" he continued mocking you.

"Stop that asshole," you said playfully shoving at his chest. "God, i would be really worried, you happy now" you sighed face burying in your hands.

Killer chuckled satisfied.

After observing the two of you for weeks, Killer had seen the tension between you and soon realized that this was more than just a meaningless bickering.

You cared for each other more than you two would like to admit. But you were both terrible at showing your feelings.

When he found Kid pacing the deck with a frown on his face he approached him.

"What keeps you awake Kid" he asked crossing his arms.

Kid stopped his movements and looked at Killer. "Nothing"

"I know you're lying. Tell me what's wrong" the blonde kept pushing.

"Just thinking"

"About y/n" killer teased, Kid shooting at glance at him.

"Fuck Kid finally make a move"

"It's not that easy" Kid blurted out catching Killer by surprise.

"Yes it is. Ask her to spend time with you and try not to yell at her"

After Killer spent almost the rest of the night talking to Kid he finally agreed on asking you out the next day.

He was about to make his move on you when a lower pirate crew ambushed you. They were easily defeated but Kid was frustrated afterwards. No one dared to get in his way. While the crew celebrated Kid tried to find solace outside on the deck, in the cold and dimly lit night.

Looking through the port hole you caught a glimpse of Kid sitting in the darkness all by himself.

"You know he might enjoy some company" Killer said as he carefully nudged your shoulder.

"You mean he needs someone he could yell at" you hissed though you felt kinda sad seeing him out there all alone.

"He won't, I'm sure he would enjoy your company. Trust me" he assured you.

"Fine but if he yells at me I'm going to punch you" you said with a small laugh.

"Sounds fair. Here take this with you" he chuckled handing you a bottle of rum.

You carefully approached your captain, sitting down right next to him.

He shot you a glance but didn't say a word. There was an uncomfortable silence between you two as you handed him the bottle.

Kid tried to act tough, but his annoyance from the ambush seeped through. You felt the weight of the moment, unsure of how to break the ice.

The stars above you shining brightly as a cold breeze hit you. You shivered a little as you took the bottle from Kids hand taking a sip before handing it back to him.

The moment your hands touched you felt a warm feeling rush through you. Looking up at him curiously studying his face.

"Stop staring at me" he finally broke the silence but you kept staring.

"I said stop it, what are you even trying to find" he asked a mix of annoyance and affection in his voice.

"Trying to find out why you're so mad and frustrated. This was nothing but a minor pirate crew ambushing us didn't even take a lot of effort yet you're here pouting" you teased still studying his face.

"Am not pouting" he snapped taking a big sip from the bottle.

"Of course not" you mocked. "The great eustass kid never pouts" you added laughing.

He turned to you a mischievous grin on his face as he gently and carefully shoved you making you laugh.

"Seriously what's bothering you?" You asked soft eyes looking at him.

He didn't say a word just looked at you before carefully tracing his thumb over the scar on your face as you leaned into the touch.

"We're matching now" you chuckled.

"We look kinda bad ass together now" he teased.

"Is that what's bothering you? the scar?" You asked shyly as he removed his finger.

"Yes i mean no, wait what? He stuttered as you looked confused.

He sighed. "It bothers me that i wasn't there to prevent this from happening." He said avoiding your gaze taking another sip.

"Not your fault, I'm sorry i didnt follow your orders" you replied, having a hard time admitting this.

"What was that? Did you just apologize for being an idiot" he taunted you smiling devilish.

"Shut up asshole" you muttered taking the bottle from him.

"I've planned something." He started as you looked curiously at him "you know i had a plan before the ambush but it got ruined because of those bastards, got me a little mad and frustrated" he continued as you removed the bottle from your lips.

"Care to share your plan or is it a secret"

"I wanted to ask you on a date" he stammered his confidence fading.

It took you a moment to process the words that just left his lips which he mistook as a form of hesitation maybe even as a rebuff.

He muttered something to himself before angrily getting up leaning against the railing staring into the open sea.

"You should get back inside" he ordered his voice low and full of anger and shame as he emptied the bottle.

Sighing you got up leaning against the railing right next to him carefully placing your hand on his startling him.

"Why? I thought we're having a date" you said smiling shyly at him while playing with his fingers.

You could see a small blush on his face.

"Not quite what i had in mind" he chuckled.

"It's perfect given how long I've been waiting for you to make a move" you teased both of you now blushing.

He pulled you closer his metal arm carefully wrapped around you your back against his chest holding you tightly. You placed your hands over his as he leaned his chin on your shoulder nuzzling into your neck, his warm breath tickling your skin.

The warmth coming from his body felt soothing making your heart beat faster. His embrace making you feel like home. You could've stayed like this forever.

"Kid?"

"Hmm" he hummed as you wiggeled out of his grip.

"I was actually waiting for you to do this first but i guess you're too stubborn and prideful soooo" you teased taking a deep breath, biting your lower lip.

"What do you-" you cut him off by placing a finger on his lips.

Eyes wide, heart beating faster you felt the nervousness build up inside you. Ok now or never.

"I think I love you" you blurted out feeling like throwing up afterwards.

He smiled smugly at you as he removed your finger giving it a small kiss.

"You think you love me?" He taunted you, causing you to playfully punch his chest.

"Stop being an asshole this was really hard" you complained though your lips twitched into a small smile.

"I think I love you too" he replied.

"You know what actually I know that i love my little troublemaker" he added his hand caressing your cheek.

He smirked down at you leaning in kissing you surprisingly soft though not less passionate.

"I love you captain" you mumbled into the kiss as you enjoyed the rest of the night in each others arms.

[stanleypinesgf]

Falling for Mystery - Chapter Eighteen*

Falling for Mystery Masterlist Warnings: nsfw 18+ only pls!! p in v, unprotected sex, tipsy/drunk sex, possessive/protective stan, gambling mentioned (not in a negative way though), gross guy in a casino, some fluff! i also wanna thank @danni3l SO MUCH for the inspiration, his help on the direction of the fic and for the support so far!! Please note: this is a slow burn fic with eventual smut and mature themes, 18+ only and please check warnings at the start of chapters! TYSM for all the support so far!! w/c: 4,069 As we entered the restaurant, Stan held the door, his gaze lingering a beat longer than usual as I stepped inside. We made our way to the table, the warm, dim lighting casting a glow across the room. When I looked up, I caught him watching me, a small, appreciative smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

After we were seated, a friendly waiter approached to take our drink orders. Stan ordered a whiskey neat, his usual choice, while I opted for a glass of white wine. As the waiter walked away, I noticed Stan watching me, his smile growing as if he was savouring this moment.

“You look… incredible tonight,” he said, his voice softer than usual, almost like he hadn’t intended for it to sound quite so earnest. He reached for my hand across the table, lifting it to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to my knuckles, his eyes meeting mine over the rim of my fingers. “I mean, you always do, but tonight… well, you’ve outdone yourself.”

For a second, I was too caught off guard to say anything, feeling my cheeks warm under his gaze. He looked at me with that rare, unguarded expression, the kind that made me feel like we were the only two people in the world.

I felt my own smile tug at my lips. “Look who’s talking. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so… polished,” I teased, letting my gaze drift over his dark button-up, the top few buttons left undone just enough to reveal the familiar glint of his chain I’d come to love. “You’ve really stepped it up tonight. What happened to Stan ‘no frills’ Pines?”

He chuckled, a little bashful but amused, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “Figured I’d better step up my game, considerin' I’m in such good company.”

With a grin, I raised my glass in a toast, and he clinked his whiskey against it, his eyes holding mine with that easy, familiar charm that seemed to shrink the whole world down to just us. In that moment, the lively hum of the restaurant faded away, leaving only the warmth of our shared smiles and the spark of something more between us.

We lingered over our drinks, the first course arriving in elegant, carefully plated portions that made Stan shake his head with a wry grin.

“Can you believe they charge for food you need a magnifying glass to see?” he quipped, holding his fork with exaggerated care as if the tiny dish were some kind of delicate artefact.

I stifled a laugh, nudging his foot under the table. “That’s how you know it’s fancy, Stan. It’s all about savouring each bite.”

He gave me a mock-serious nod. “Ah, so this is savouring.” He took a slow, deliberate bite, then broke into a grin. “I gotta admit, it’s not half bad.”

Our plates changed with each course, bringing new flavours and textures that spurred little comments, jokes, and even a few exaggerated “critic” impressions from Stan that had me laughing more than eating. Between bites, we kept the conversation rolling, exchanging old stories and bits of nostalgia. He told me about his favourite old haunts in Vegas—ones that had long since closed or changed beyond recognition—and, in turn, I shared stories from my travels, comparing notes on our experiences with the wild and weird.

At one point, he leaned in closer, his expression softening as the laughter faded. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who can keep up with me quite like you do,” he said, his voice low enough that it felt like a secret meant just for me.

I felt my heart skip, and a slow smile crept onto my face. “Well, maybe you finally met your match,” I replied, tapping my glass against his.

Stan’s gaze lingered on me a moment longer, something unspoken in his eyes. “Maybe I did,” he murmured, and I could feel the words settle in the space between us, warm and unexpected.

The final course arrived at our table, a shared dessert. We dug in, enjoying each bite while playfully competing for the last spoonful. As the meal wrapped up, I realised just how natural, how easy, it all felt. It wasn’t often I got to see this side of him, and I found myself wanting to hold onto it for as long as I could.

As the waiter collected our empty dessert plate, we lingered at the table for a moment longer, letting the warmth of the evening settle between us. Stan’s eyes held a trace of something I couldn’t quite place, something that made my pulse quicken as we stood up to leave.

Inside the casino, the energy was electric, a pulsing mix of lights, sounds, and anticipation that made me feel alive in a way only Vegas could. Stan ordered us both drinks, handing me a glass of something sharp and sparkling as he raised his own in a casual toast. 

“To good luck and bad decisions,” he said with a grin, lighting a cigar and watching the smoke swirl above us. 

The air around us hummed with excitement, and I couldn’t help but feel a thrill as I watched him take it all in. His rough edges seemed softened by the glow of the lights and the whiskey in his hand.

We wove our way through rows of slot machines, and Stan insisted on trying his luck with a few spins, dropping coins with exaggerated seriousness and cheering each small win like it was the jackpot. When he finally pulled me toward the blackjack table, he took on a look of mock solemnity.

“Blackjack,” he said, resting his hand on my shoulder as if imparting secret wisdom. “A game of pure strategy, skill, and… lettin' them think you’re terrible at it.”

“Oh, is that the trick?” I teased, folding my arms as I leaned in to watch him play.

“Yep.” He placed a small stack of chips on the table and winked. “They never see it comin'.”

We shared an easy laugh, trading jabs about his “foolproof” strategies as he made the game look easy with his relaxed confidence. Each win sent a new spark through the air between us, a thrill shared as we watched his stack of chips grow.

We were so wrapped up in each other’s banter that I almost missed the moment when a man from across the casino strolled over, positioning himself a little too close to me with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Stan noticed immediately, his posture shifting as he angled himself protectively between us, his gaze turning sharp as he locked eyes with the newcomer, his hand still lingering near his drink in silent warning.

“Hey, sweetheart,” the stranger said, ignoring Stan entirely. “How about you join me over at the roulette table? I could show you a good time.”

I felt a mix of amusement and annoyance bubbling up, but before I could say anything, I felt Stan’s arm tighten protectively around my waist, his gaze sharp as he sized up the guy.

“Why don’t you move along, pal?” Stan’s voice was low, steady, but there was an edge to it that made the guy’s smirk falter.

The man scoffed, clearly underestimating the man in front of him. “What’s it to you, tough guy?”

Stan’s eyes narrowed, his grip loosening on me as he took a step forward, his voice dropping. “She’s with me. So, why don’t you take a walk?”

The guy chuckled, glancing between the two of us, but instead of leaving, he took a step closer. “Looks like you don’t know how to share.”

And that was it. Without a moment’s hesitation, Stan swung. His fist connected with the guy’s jaw, and before I could process what was happening, the man stumbled back, crashing into a nearby table. Gasps and shocked whispers filled the casino as the scene unfolded, but Stan barely seemed to notice, his expression one of grim satisfaction.

The security guards were on us in an instant, ushering us toward the exit as Stan threw an arm around my shoulders, laughing as we stumbled out into the cool night air.

“Well, that’s one way to get thrown out of a casino,” I said, giggling, breathless from the chaos.

Stan’s gaze softened as he held me close, but I could still feel the protective fire simmering beneath the surface, his grip firm as if to reassure himself I was there, safe and close. He tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ear, his thumb brushing my cheek. “No one’s getting near you while I’m around,” he murmured, his voice rough but gentle. “You’re mine, and I don’t let go that easy.”

He leaned down, capturing my lips with a fierce tenderness, pouring into that kiss all the emotion he rarely let slip. His hands held me firmly, possessively, like he was daring anyone to try and pull me away. The alley fell into silence, save for our quiet breaths and the faint sounds of the city beyond.

I looked up at him, my heart racing as I felt the warmth of his protective gaze and the lingering electricity from our kiss. I took a steadying breath, trying to summon the courage to say what I wanted. “Stan,” I murmured, my fingers brushing the collar of his shirt, lingering there a moment longer than usual. My cheeks flushed as I met his eyes, a shy smile tugging at my lips. “How about we… head back to our room?”

The words came out softer than I intended, and I looked away, feeling a bit bashful. I could sense his gaze on me, and when I looked back, he was watching me with a raised brow, the slightest spark of surprise in his eyes.

His grin turned slow and warm as he tilted his head, looking at me like he’d just discovered something he hadn’t expected. “Couldn’t have asked for a better idea,” he said, his voice a soft rumble as he took my hand, intertwining his fingers with mine. The intensity in his expression softened to something almost tender as he led me back toward the hotel, giving my hand a gentle squeeze, his eyes meeting mine as though he was just as affected as I was.

As we made our way through the lobby, I could feel the anticipation building between us. Stan’s hand wrapped firmly around mine, his thumb brushing over my knuckles in a way that sent butterflies fluttering in my stomach. The bright lights and laughter of the casino faded away, replaced by the soft hum of the elevator as it carried us up to our floor.

When the doors slid open, I felt a rush of excitement mixed with a hint of nervousness. Stan led the way down the corridor, pausing outside our room. He turned to me, his expression serious for a moment as he searched my eyes. “You okay?” he asked, his voice low and laced with concern.

I nodded, feeling the anticipation thick between us. “Are you?” I glanced up at him, searching his expression.

His gaze was steady, a hint of possessiveness flickering in his eyes. “I’m fine. No one gets to talk to you like that,” he replied, his voice low and firm, sending a thrill through me. “You’re mine, and I’m not lettin' anyone forget it.”

With a satisfied smirk, he pushed the door open and ushered me inside. The room was dimly lit, and I took a moment to absorb the scene. The city lights flickered through the window, casting a warm glow across the space.

Stan stepped in behind me, closing the door with a soft click. The moment it shut, the atmosphere shifted, thick with unspoken anticipation. I turned to face him, my heart racing as he took a step closer, closing the distance between us.

“Now, where were we?” he murmured, his eyes darkening with intent as he slid his hand up my arm to gently cup my jaw. The warmth of his touch sent a thrill through me, and I felt my breath hitch in my throat.

I felt the weight of his gaze, dark and smouldering. “Mine,” he repeated, his voice low and gravelly, each word laced with fierce protectiveness. There was no room for doubt; he wanted everyone to know it.

The city lights outside flickered in harmony with the pulse of my heart. I could feel the warmth radiating from him, intoxicating and impossible to resist. “Stan…” I breathed, the name slipping from my lips like a plea.

He stepped closer, the distance vanished, and I could feel the heat radiating off him. “I don’t want anyone else lookin’ at you,” he said, his voice thick with urgency. “Not like that. Not ever.” His fingers tangled in my hair, pulling me closer, tilting my head back so our eyes locked.

I could see the determination in his gaze, and it sent a thrill through me. “You’re not going to let anyone forget, are you?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Never,” he growled, and with that, his lips crashed onto mine, hungry and demanding. The kiss was messy, fueled by the warmth of the drinks we had shared earlier, igniting something deep within me. I surrendered to it, my hands finding their way to his shirt, pulling him closer.

Stan broke the kiss, his breath heavy against my lips. “We’ll show ‘em who makes you feel good,” he murmured, his eyes glinting with mischief and desire.

With a swift motion, he turned and pulled me toward the large window, the city sprawled out beneath us. The view was breathtaking, but I was lost in the intensity of his presence. He framed my face with his hands, forcing me to meet his gaze.

“Do you like this?” he asked, his voice thick with need. “Knowin’ that you’re mine?”

I nodded, my heart racing, feeling a rush of exhilaration mixed with a hint of danger. His possessiveness fueled something wild inside me, and I craved more.

“Atta girl,” he breathed, leaning in for another kiss, his lips claiming mine with fierce urgency. The world outside faded away as I melted into him, captivated by the man who wouldn’t let me go.

The kiss deepened, his lips moving against mine with a fervour that made my head spin. I felt a rush of heat as his hands roamed down my sides, exploring as if he were claiming territory. Clumsily, I reached for the buttons of his shirt, fumbling slightly but driven by an urgent need. I undid them one by one, revealing the strong lines of his chest, running my hands over the hair that covered his broad torso. His breath caught, and his eyes darkened with a mix of desire and admiration.

“Doll, you’re so gorgeous,” he murmured, his voice rough with hunger. He took my waist in his hands, fingers digging in just enough as if to remind me of his protective nature.

Before I could respond, he pushed my dress down, the fabric pooling at my feet. I shivered at the cool air against my skin, but the warmth of his gaze enveloped me.

With a swift motion, he turned me, pressing my back against the window. The cool glass sent a thrill through me as I felt his body heat radiating behind me.

“Let ‘em see,” he whispered, his breath hot against my ear. “You’re mine, and I want everyone to know it.”

The thrill of his possessiveness sent a rush of excitement through me, and I leaned back against him, surrendering completely. The city lights flickered in the background, but all I could focus on was him; his hands, his warmth, and the way he held me against the glass like I was the most precious thing in the world.

As he leaned in, his lips found the sensitive skin of my collarbone, trailing kisses that made my breath hitch. He paused, his teeth grazing my skin, and then began to leave love bites, claiming me as his. Each gentle nip sent a jolt of pleasure through me, igniting a fire in my core.

“Stan…” I gasped, pressing my body closer to his as I felt the cool glass of the window against my back. He took the opportunity to push me gently against it, his hands gripping my waist firmly.

“Let me take care of you, sweetheart,” he slurred, his voice a mix of authority and sweetness. He continued his trail of bites down my shoulder, savouring each moment, each reaction from me.

The city lights flickered outside, but inside, the air was thick with our shared energy. I was lost in the sensation, completely surrendering to him, craving more of his touch, more of his possessive nature.

“God, you’re perfect,” he murmured, pulling back slightly to take in the sight of me, flushed and breathless. “And I’m not lettin’ anyone else have you.”

With that, he sucked a particularly tender hickey below my ear, causing my hands to fly to his hair, tugging it slightly. “Stanley!” I moaned, my head swimming with a mixture of lust and intoxication.

His reaction was immediate and electric. The corners of his mouth twisted into a wild grin, but there was a fierce intensity in his gaze. “Fuck, say that again,” he urged, fumbling with his belt, his hands shaking slightly with a mix of urgency and desire.

“Stanley,” I repeated, this time with more conviction, watching as his breath caught in his throat. The way he reacted sent a thrill through me, igniting something primal within him. He closed the distance, his lips crashing against mine in a fervent kiss. The world outside faded away, leaving only the heat radiating between us. I could feel his hands exploring, mapping every curve, every inch of my body as if he were claiming me.

“God, don’t ever stop saying my name, doll,” he murmured against my skin, trailing kisses down my neck. “It drives me wild.” He sucked at a sensitive spot just above my collarbone, leaving a mark that would remind me of this moment.

“Fuck, Stan, please,” I whined, arching my back, desperate for his touch.

I could feel his belt finally give way, the sound of metal clinking echoing in the otherwise quiet room. “I can’t wait, baby, want you now,” he said, his breath hot against my ear, his possessive tone sending waves of excitement through me.

“Then take me,” I urged, my voice thick with need. The urgency in his eyes matched my own as he positioned me against the window, the cool glass a stark contrast to the heat building between us.

With a fierce look, he entered me, filling me completely. The sensation was overwhelming, and I couldn't help but moan his name. “Stanley!” I cried out, the sound mixing with the thrum of the city below.

He groaned in response, his grip tightening around my waist as he moved with a desperate rhythm. Each thrust was filled with raw intensity, a powerful claim that made me feel cherished and desired all at once.

“Don’t ever forget it,” he said breathlessly, his forehead pressed against mine. “You’re mine, and I’m never letting go.”

The urgency of the moment surged between us, each movement drawing us closer to an edge we both needed to reach. The city lights twinkled below us like stars scattered across the night. Each thrust sent ripples of pleasure through me, mixing with the thrill of being so exposed, so utterly his. It was so different like this, the gentle buzz of the alcohol in our systems only adding to the new sensations.

“Oh god, Stanley, just like that!” I gasped, the name spilling from my lips like a prayer. The way it ignited something primal in him only fuelled my desire. He groaned, his hands gripping my hips tighter, anchoring us both in this moment.

“God, you’re incredible,” he breathed, his voice thick with need. “Just like this, right here.” His words were a delicious mix of admiration and urgency, making my heart race even faster.

As he thrust deeper, his breath came in ragged bursts against my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “I want everyone to see how beautiful you are,” he murmured, his lips brushing against my neck. “I want you to feel every bit of this.”

“You feel so good, please don’t stop,” I practically begged. He watched me, his expression a mix of hunger and admiration. I could see the way he appreciated every inch of me, and it only made me feel more alive. “I love you so much, Stan,” I breathed, and that was all it took. He surged forward, capturing my lips with his in a frantic kiss, our bodies moving in a rhythm that felt both urgent and electric.

He whispered my name so tenderly, it took my breath away. “I love you too,” he murmured against my lips, his eyes filled with adoration.

The world outside faded away again, and all that mattered was this moment—his hands on my skin, the heat of his body against mine, and the way we fit together so perfectly.

“Touch yourself for me, baby. I want to feel you squeezing me,” he urged, his eyes watching with hunger as I slipped my hand between our bodies to rub my clit.

As he thrust into me again, I felt the pressure building, the urgency of the moment driving us both closer to the edge. “Together,” I whispered, feeling the world around us blur into nothingness.

“Always together,” he promised, his voice deep and filled with conviction. The city lights flickered outside, but in that moment, it was just us, lost in our own world of desire and connection.

My legs shook as I felt the familiar coil in my belly snap, Stan's strong thrusts faltering as he buried himself deep in me with his release.

As the intensity of our connection began to wane, I felt Stan’s grip soften, his hands now gently caressing my waist. The world outside the window blurred into insignificance, the city lights twinkling like distant stars. I could hear the soft rhythm of our breaths mingling in the aftermath of our passion.

“Hey,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from my face, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. “You okay?”

I nodded, a lazy smile spreading across my lips. “More than okay. That was… incredible.”

He chuckled softly, his breath warm against my skin. “You’re incredible.” He pressed a tender kiss to my forehead, and I felt my heart swell at the intimacy of the moment.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he suggested, still holding me close. I felt a comforting heaviness in his voice, the kind that promised safety and care.

With a playful tug, he led me away from the window, our bodies still buzzing from the heat of the night. We stumbled slightly, laughter bubbling up from both of us as we made our way to the bathroom. The room was dimly lit, but the glow felt warm and inviting.

After a quick rinse, he wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me close again. “You know, I could get used to this,” he said, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

“Me too,” I replied, leaning into him, feeling relaxed and content.

Once we were done, we made our way to the bedroom, still chuckling at our drunken antics. Stan flopped down onto the bed, pulling me down beside him. The sheets felt cool against my skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of his body next to mine.

“C'mere,” he said, wrapping an arm around me and pulling me close. I nestled against him, resting my head on his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat.

“Stanley,” I murmured, a sleepy smile on my lips.

“Yeah?” he replied, his voice thick with affection.

“Thanks for looking out for me. I love you.”

His fingers traced gentle patterns on my back, and I could feel him smile. “I love you too, sweetheart. Always.”

As we lay there, the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of us in each other’s arms. I felt safe and cherished, drifting into a peaceful sleep, wrapped in his warmth. Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[therhythmafterthesummer]

Alone Together (M) ~Lee Know

Pairing: SpacePirate!Minho x Smuggler!F.Reader Themes: Sci-Fi AU (barely) | Smut | Established Relationship (kind of) | Lovers (idiots) to Even More Lovers (affectionate) Word Count: ~8k | AO3 Synopsis: Minho was a man on the run, an outlaw. He was always getting himself into trouble, thieving and fighting against the people that perpetuated an unfair system that did nothing but bring pain to those the system considered lowly and unworthy. For his next mission, he decided to ask for help from the person he trusted most in this world, you. Warnings: star wars concepts used very loosely and probably very poorly · made up locations · mentions of slavery and morally questionable situations · the term suicide mission is used once · your honour they’re sickly in love · graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut).

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Author’s Note: i started watching the book of boba fett, and it seems like it’s impossible for me to watch anything star wars related without wanting to write about people boning in space. so this piece was born ! it’s incredibly self-indulgent, but i hope someone else out there gets to enjoy it too~

this was barely proof-read, so if anything sounds weird don’t hesitate to let me know lol

Smut Warnings: this is very vanilla tbh · praise · fingering [F.Rec] · protected penetration [piv].

Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

As an outlaw, Minho’s entire livelihood depended on him not attracting too much attention to himself, on laying low and being as stealthy as possible. Which was why it almost felt counterintuitive to be here right now, trying to get his ship caught on the radars of a cargo ship. Although, to be fair, it wouldn’t have been the first time he tried to get into this cargo ship in this exact same way, but usually he’d have a bit more preparation than this.

“Shit… Here we go. Buckle up, boys”, Minho informed his crewmates.

Their entire starcraft shook violently as the gravitational beam of the much bigger starship pulled them towards it. They were discovered almost as soon as they came close to the vessel, and Minho had honestly taken a leap of faith with this move, because this could’ve gone two ways: like it was going right now, them being pulled towards the hangar within the starship, or they could’ve been shot down on sight.

Getting within the perimeter of a smuggler ship was always dangerous, especially when done unannounced, but Minho was desperate, so he did what he had to do.

As soon as his ship was parked within the hangar, he unbuckled his safety belt, standing up and stretching his limbs. “Guys, get ready. Remember what I said, no sudden movements, no arguing, just follow my lead, okay?”

Hyunjin and Felix nodded in understanding, getting out of their seats and stretching as well, just as loud thuds started to resonate within the crammed space they called their ‘navigation room’. That was a bold claim, this ship consisted only of that navigation room, small enough to go undetected when needed, but not that good for long periods of time travelling, he’d admit.

“Open up, hands in the air!”

Minho nodded to his crewmates, and once they both lifted their arms he hit the door’s button on his console.

Four super battle droids stood right outside, with their blasters pointed right at them. Minho hadn’t seen this model of droid before, they must’ve been one of your latest acquisitions, and somehow, that thought brought a smile to his face. However, new droids meant that they wouldn’t know who he was, which also meant things could get out of hand really quickly.

“Step out!”

Minho got off the ship first, with his hands in the air as instructed, followed by Hyunjin and Felix. The droids immediately took a hold of their wrists, rather forcefully, and it made him wince.

“Hey! We’re cooperating, don��t be so harsh, jeez…” The droids completely ignored Minho, simply continuing their task of holding their wrists behind their backs and binding them together.

“Names, and what were you doing fluttering around this ship?”

“I’m Minho. These are Hyunjin and Felix”, Minho replied simply, gesturing with his head as he named his two crewmates. “We came to speak with your captain”.

“Our captain has no time to deal with stowaways”, one of the droids scoffed, pointing their blaster right to Minho’s forehead.

He couldn’t help but smirk, the words flying past his mouth before he could even think twice about them. “How can you call us stowaways when you were the ones to pull us in here?”

The droid went silent. Minho figured that if it could make facial expressions, it would’ve looked annoyed.

“It’s really important”, Minho urged. “I’m sure she’ll understand. If you’re planning on throwing us to the trash chute, don’t you think she’d like to make the call herself?” 

The droid in front of him went silent again, the other three were just surrounding them, pointing their blasters at them. It was taking the droid so long to say something, Minho started to really worry that he had miscalculated how this part of the plan would go.

Ultimately, the droid lowered its weapon, and the three of them heaved a sigh of relief. “Follow me”.

The insides of the ship looked almost the same as they had last time Minho was here, save for a few changes to the corridor’s decor. How long had it been? Three months? Six? It was hard to tell these days when he was running for his life half the time.

The group of droids guided the three of them towards where Minho knew the main control room would be, where you probably would be. He should’ve been unfazed, Minho had seen you thousands of times, but somehow every single time without fail his heart would flutter, especially when so much time had passed since he last saw you.

As soon as the doors of the main control room slid open they were engulfed by the sound of clicks and clacks from the amount of droids sitting at their stations just pressing buttons. It was impressive, how you had put together this entire operation almost on your own, he couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

“Captain”, the droid spoke finally, snapping Minho out of his daze.

Ah, there you were, hunched over your desk, with your fingers flying on the touchscreen that was embedded in it. What were you doing? Planning your next course? Ensuring the safety of your routes? Checking for imperial ports in the vicinity? Minho was always curious, mostly because he was nosy. He wanted to have as much knowledge as possible at any given time, but he also just liked to hear you talk about things. He quite enjoyed hearing you speak, he’d admit.

“What is it, B2-49?” Shit, just your voice could kickstart Minho’s heartbeat. He should visit more often, the longer he spent away the more your mere existence affected him, and it was, quite honestly, inconvenient.

“The stowaways wish to speak with you”, the droid, B2-49, informed you, and you scoffed, not lifting your eyes from the screen under your fingertips for a second.

“How can you call them stowaways when we pulled them in here in the first place?”

“Took the words right out of my mouth”, Minho couldn’t help but say, grinning at you once the sound of his voice finally pulled you from your task.

Your eyes went wide as soon as you spotted him, you clearly weren’t expecting him, and Minho would lie if he said he didn’t enjoy catching you off guard, that he didn’t enjoy your attention.

Your gaze jumped from him to his two companions, and your brows furrowed. You looked at him again, right in the eyes, confusion written all over your face. “What’re you doing here?” 

“Can’t I just drop by anymore?”

“You can”, you leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms over your chest. “But something tells me you’re here with a purpose”.

‘So when I come here to fuck you isn’t a purpose?’ was what Minho would’ve liked to say, because that was often why he came to your ship, but he’d always come alone. Hyunjin and Felix didn’t have to know any of that, so he kept his mouth shut. Instead, he chose to take a direct approach.

“We need a safe route to infiltrate the Antrilian quadrant”.

You scoffed, incredulousness painted all over your face. “Have you gone mad? Antrilia? Want me to get you right to the intergalactic council as well?”

Antrilia was known for hosting the biggest slave ring in the galaxy, it was heavily guarded by imperial forces, and it was Minho’s goal to bring it all down, to free every single slave in the quadrant, stealing a few prized possessions in the process–he had to get his money’s worth, of course. 

It was a very personal task, considering two of his crewmates had been taken by the empire recently. Saving his friends and taking it all down wouldn’t be easy, the entire quadrant was heavily guarded, which was why he had come to you, the best, most discreet smuggler he’d ever known.

“I’m being serious”, and he was.

Minho’s entire purpose was to rid the galaxy of every single slave camp he could, that was how he met his crewmates, they formed their own guild and were now some of the most wanted men in the galaxy. Ever since he himself escaped from one of those places when he was just a kid, he made it his purpose to wreak as much havoc as possible, to bring down the system. It was dangerous, and he’d been close to dying more times than he could count, but he just couldn’t turn a blind eye to it.

You looked at him for a moment, your eyes jumping all over his face. After a while, you finally unfolded your arms to place your hands flat on the table. “Oh my Gods, you are serious. Do you have a death wish?”

Minho gave you a smile, a smug one, and you immediately brought your fingers to your temples, rubbing circles there.

“I can’t do that, Minho”, you said as soon as you seemed to realise he wasn’t going to back down.

“If there’s anyone in this galaxy that can get us there is you. I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t truly believe that”, and Minho really meant it. Regardless of his personal connection to you, he knew you were incredibly good at your craft.

You looked at him for a few moments, quiet, pondering, he could almost see the cogs turning inside your head, and for a brief moment he wondered if you would just shoot him down completely. That was, until you spoke again.

“What’s in it for me?”

"My gratitude", Minho said in a mock tone, and you quirked a brow, almost as if you were telling him ‘be fucking serious right now’. 

So he clicked his tongue, slightly annoyed that you didn’t want to play along. “The receptor of an imperial cruise with a valid code”.

Immediately, a glint of excitement appeared in your eyes, 

“How did you… Get your hands on that?”

Minho shrugged. “I have my ways”.

You were silent for a while, just looking into his eyes and tapping your fingers on your desk. Minho looked right back at you, waiting for you to make your decision. This wasn’t the first time he was asking for a favour, but it was certainly the first time he was asking for something so dangerous, so he could completely understand if you didn’t want to help him. He wouldn’t have taken it to heart either way.

With a deep intake of breath, you finally stood up from your desk and walked a bit closer to the group, to stand right in front of Minho. “This is not something I can decide just now. I need some time to think about it”.

“There’s not much time, I’m afraid”, Minho gave you a genuinely apologetic smile, and you sighed, somehow sounding both defeated and annoyed.

“Quit being dramatic. I’m sure you can give me at least twenty four hours”.

“Twenty four hours sounds reasonable”.

You looked at Minho for a moment, and then looked at his crewmates. “Who are you guys?”

“Hyunjin”.

“Felix”.

Both of his crewmates introduced themselves at the same time, but you seemed to pick up their names anyway. You signalled your droids to remove their restraints, giving them both a welcoming smile. “Welcome aboard, Hyunjin and Felix”.

They simply returned your greetings, sounding immensely grateful now that they were no longer bound. You were just about to walk away when Minho cleared his throat with a frown on his face.

“Aren’t you going to untie me, too?”

You looked him up and down, and a devilish smile made its way to your lips, making the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. “Why should I?”

“So you untie my friends and not me? Seems a bit biassed on your part, doesn’t it?”

You walked closer, standing so close he almost felt as if you were going to kiss him. Right there. In front of his friends. And that realisation had his heart pounding in his chest, and, even more annoyingly, it brought heat to his ears. He tried his best to not show how affected he was, though. He stood his ground, with the self-assured smile he could pull off.

Bringing your hand behind him, you took a hold of the device binding his wrists. “Say please”.

His smug façade crumbled immediately, replaced by a look of incredulousness. Minho scoffed, tilting his head to the side and looking you right in the eyes. “You can’t be serious right now…”

The corners of your mouth quirked up, and the mirth in your eyes made him both feel giddy and incredibly annoyed. 

“I’m dead serious, Lee Minho”, you told him, and Minho realised then that if he leaned in just the tiniest bit, he could definitely press his lips to yours, and for a second, he genuinely considered it.

If it had been just you and your droids, he certainly would’ve kissed you right then and there, but the presence of his friends behind him gave him pause. It wasn’t like Minho minded if they knew, it was that he wasn’t sure whether you would mind or not. But based on how things had gone between you two so far, he figured you would, so he took a deep breath, closing his eyes to avoid looking at your triumphant face.

“Please”.

“Please, what?”

His eyes snapped open, and there was nothing he wanted more in that moment than to wipe that glint of victory in your eyes. Regardless, Minho swallowed his pride, he was in no position to try his luck.

“Please, captain”.

You smiled, clearly satisfied. With what Minho figured was a press of a button on his cuffs, the thing unravelled from his wrists, finally letting him move freely.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” You tapped his chest, and Minho had to bite his tongue. Oh, he was so getting his payback for this.

Before he could say anything, you spoke again. “You guys can stay here today if you want. There’s plenty of rations for all of us, including the few other living people on this ship, but I’m afraid there’s only one spare room conditioned for people to stay in besides the crew’s”.

“We’ll stay”, Minho rubbed his wrists, trying to ease some of the ache caused by his restraints.

The room provided to them was big enough, with a bunk bed embedded on one of the walls, and another on the other. Very sterile looking, nothing in particular stood out, it was just like any other room Minho had seen on a spaceship of this size. The biggest add-on was the adjacent washroom, which the three of them immediately rejoiced at when they noticed it.

No one ever spoke about it, but depending on the ships you travelled in throughout the galaxy, a washroom could be considered a luxury, so the prospect of a good shower and a fresh change of clothes was certainly appealing. Minho let his younger crewmates take the spot first, since he was sure both Hyunjin and Felix were dying to feel clean again.

As he waited for them to come out, slouching on one of the chairs in the room, Minho’s mind couldn’t help but wander. He’d never imagined he’d be here, in your ship, with any of his friends. He’d hoped that maybe one day, if things worked out, he could introduce you to them in a less… Contained fashion. But things never seemed to go as he expected whenever it came to whatever it was that was lingering between you two.

As soon as his friends were ready, Minho immediately rushed to the washroom. He took his time just washing off all the grime and gunk that had stuck to him during their almost never-ending travels the past handful of days, so truly, he was immensely grateful for that shower. 

“Do you think she’ll help?” Felix asked from where he was laying on the top bunk as soon as Minho came out of the washroom.

“Honestly?” Minho rubbed a towel on his head, trying to get his hair as dry as possible. “I really have no idea”.

Hyunjin eyed him for a moment, leaning back on his hands from where he sat on the bottom bunk. “You sure? You seem to be awfully close with the captain of this ship”.

“I mean, I wouldn’t say awfully close”, Minho was great at lying and deception, but even to him that statement sounded incredibly disingenuous. “We… Know each other”.

“You know each other? Or you know each other?” Felix wiggled his eyebrows at Minho, just as the older man was sitting on the bottom bunk of the other bunk bed.

“If you ask me, I’d like to think she’d do it. But this is very different from any favour I’ve ever asked. More dangerous… So who knows”, Minho decided to completely brush off the curious eyes, and even more curious questions of his crewmates. Explaining his connection to you was something he’d rather not speak about, not now at least.

Felix looked like he was going to say something, something incredibly annoying. So Minho decided to abruptly stand up from his bed and intercept him. “Anyway, I’m going for a snack”.

“A snack?” Hyunjin asked once Minho walked past him. “Is that how we’re calling the cap–”

Before he could even attempt to finish his sentence, Minho took the towel he had draped over his shoulders and swiftly snapped it in Hyunjin’s direction, hitting him in the arm.

“Ow! Unnecessary!” Hyunjin rubbed his upper arm, pouting.

Minho simply offered him a ‘deserved’ before he walked out the door.

Minho did intend on finding something to snack on before bed, but he would lie if he said he wasn’t keeping his eyes open in case he spotted you. All he’d seen so far was the odd droid going about their business, and a couple of crew members who greeted him as usual.

“Who gave you permission to wander the corridors of my ship?” 

Minho’s skeleton almost jumped out of skin at the sudden voice speaking to him. As soon as that initial shock passed he knew it was you, how could he not know when the sound of your voice was already ingrained in every crevice of his brain? So he decided to put up his best smug façade once again, ignoring the way his heart started to thump in his chest just at the sound of your voice.

“You did, captain. If my memory serves me right”.

You just scoffed in response, and started to walk towards him. Once you stood in front of him, you crossed your arms over your chest, and simply looked at him with a frown on your face.

For a moment, Minho didn’t say anything, just like you didn’t either. Your gaze was stern, guarded, just like it usually was whenever you were into your Captain Mode. After all, you spent most of your time around your crew, leading them, planning morally questionable arrangements to get work going, so it was no surprise to him that you looked at him like this.

However, after a few more moments of silence, the frown on your face turned to one of concern, and, honestly, Minho would lie if he said he didn’t like it when you worried about him. Because he knew that was what was going through your mind right now, worry.

“Is there anything I can say or do to get you to not do this?” 

Minho gave you a smile, a genuine one, the ones he reserved mostly for you, and for moments like these. “No”.

You sighed. “For a pirate, you sure have a lot of morals, don’t you?”

“Being a contradiction is my favourite pastime, baby, you know that”, he registered the pet name falling from his lips a second too late. There was nothing he could do about it, it was like his brain would automatically shift into Smitten Mode whenever you two were on your own. If you were displeased by it, you didn’t show it or say anything about it. “I must say, I find it rather cute that you’re worrying about me that much”.

You scoffed at that, rolling your eyes. “Of course I worry about you. Unfortunately, you’ve got this horrible habit of risking your life, and since I’ve got the horrible habit of caring about you, it’s only natural that I worry”. 

Had you no regard for his weak heart? How could you tell him you cared about him so nonchalantly? And while you were scolding him at that? He wanted to say something back, to bicker a bit more, but his body seemed to not agree with that logic, because it decided that the best reaction would be to rush blood to his ears and his chest, making him flush.

So, to counterattack, Minho simply did what he did best, to display his affection through his actions instead of his words. Cradling your face in his hands, he dragged his thumbs over your cheeks, and as he stared into your eyes he could see all your walls crumble, just like they always did in situations like these. ‘Cute’, was the last word to leave his mouth before he pressed his lips to yours.

Warmth spread quickly inside of him, the tiny whine that escaped your mouth as soon as your lips connected ignited in him all those feelings he usually tried to ignore, and the way you kissed him, with as much desperation as he felt, had blood rushing to his length immediately. Minho couldn’t help it, it was instinctual at this point, to get hard when you so much as touched him–even if that touch was only your lips on his, your hands grabbing his top, and your tongue inside his mouth.

Before he knew it, he had moved, walking forward and pressing you against the cold metal walls of your ship. His hands finally left your face to hold your waist instead, and you took it as an opportunity to loop your arms around his neck, burying one of your hands in his hair and tugging gently.

“Missed you”, Minho mumbled against your lips as he slotted one of his legs between your own, pressing his thigh right against your core. He wasn’t ashamed or bashful of the words that came out of his mouth, he was way past that point, he’d decided long ago that sometimes–especially after long periods of time apart–telling you how he felt was better than having to bottle it all up.

“Missed you, too”, you mumbled back, bringing one of your legs to wrap around his hip, pulling him close, kissing him deeply right after. You, clearly, had also decided to let go of those inhibitions as well.

Moving his hand from your waist to your bum, he groped the flesh over your bottoms, just as he detached himself from your mouth to sparsely press kisses on your neck, right in the areas he knew you were the most sensitive, making you whimper. “Can’t believe you made me fucking beg to get me out of the handcuffs”.

“Wouldn’t have been the first time”, you replied with a strained chuckle, digging your heel on the back of his thigh, enticing him. It was certainly working. “Probably won’t be the last, either”.

“You minx”, Minho chuckled, returning his lips to yours, pushing his tongue inside your mouth, taking a hold of your thigh and squeezing it.

Your heavy breathing, the warmth emanating from your body that immediately seeped into him, kindling the fire that burnt bright inside of him, that fire that didn’t seem to die regardless of how much time passed, all combined had Minho’s head spinning, had him growing impossibly hard. He needed you just as much as he needed oxygen in his lungs, and for a brief second he considered taking you right there, right in the middle of the corridor, uncaring of who could walk by and see you two.

As usual, though, you brought some sense into him, tugging hard on his hair to get him to detach his mouth from yours, mumbling a breathless ‘wanna head to my cabin?’ to which Minho simply replied an overly confident ‘thought you’d never ask’. So, as soon as he separated himself from your body you took his hand in yours, pulling him along the corridor, following the familiar path to your sleeping quarters.

There had always been this thing about your room that gave Minho an immense amount of peace. He wasn’t sure if it was the infuser you seemed to have on at all times, the one that filled your room with whichever relaxing essential oil you’d gotten your hands on during your travels, or if it was the clear signs that this was your living space–the seemingly permanent heap of clothes on the chair next to your bed, the journal you kept on your desk, the huge, old-fashioned map of the galaxy taped to the wall… It was all so incredibly you, it made him feel completely enveloped by your presence, it comforted him, really.

His favourite part of your room, though, was your bed. Incredibly comfortable, with just the right amount of firmness to it, saturated in the smell of you. And maybe later, Minho would be able to bury his face in your pillow, to try and etch your essence into his memory to get him through the hard days to come. 

Right now, as your clothes and his landed on the already existing pile of clothes on your chair, he could hardly think about any of that. The feeling of your bare skin against his was more than enough to drown him in the moment. Every sigh, moan, whine that came out of your mouth whenever his lips touched your skin, the warmth of your body under him, it all let him ignore the world out of this room, out of this ship, let him focus on only you and him and the deep desire that was burning bright inside of him.

Between your hands roaming his back, the desperate way you clung to him, kissing him so hungrily he could barely breathe, Minho knew it was only a matter of time until you talked, or until he talked. He always wondered who would be the first one to ask that burning question that always hung in the air, most of the time it was him, but on odd occasions, you’d cave, and he was always ready to answer when you did.

“Have you been with other people since the last time we saw each other?”

There it was. You beat him to it this time, but, honestly, it really didn’t matter who asked it. To him, regardless of who broke the question first, it never made the entire thing any less absurd.

“Other people?” He propped himself on one hand to get a better view of you, dragging the other hand all the way from your shoulder to your centre, feeling your heated skin under his palm. His fingers teased your folds, spreading your essence all over, getting his fingers drenched. Gods, you were so wet for him already, and you’d barely even started. 

Minho was impatient. He always was the first time he got you under him like this after a long time. He wanted you, he wanted to see you squirming and writhing under his touch, so he wasted no more time, easing his ring and middle finger into your dripping heat. A quiet moan flew past your lips as soon as he was buried to the knuckle, gripping the bed sheets near your head once he started slowly thrusting his fingers in and out, letting you get used to the intrusion. 

“There’s been no one else. No one could ever remotely compare”, he emphasised his words with a hard nudge on your sweet spot, and a tug on your nipple, eliciting a moan from your lips. “There’s been flirting, I’ll give you that. Knowingly and unknowingly. More often than not to get ourselves out of tricky situations, you know how it is… But physically? Emotionally? I haven’t wanted anyone else since the first time I buried my head between your legs and got you to moan so sweetly for me, sweetheart”.

“Minho, my darling…” Your voice was airy, your face flushed, and quiet moans continued to spill from your lips as he picked up his rhythm, prepping you, moving his fingers against all those areas inside of you he seemed to have committed to memory throughout the years, the ones that would labour your breath and get you to moan a bit louder the longer he worked you up. 

Minho dipped, finding your mouth and kissing you with force, with need. Because all this time, all he’d ever needed was you, he always did. Every day, even when he decided to ignore it. 

You held onto his forearm, lightly digging your nails on his flesh, but he didn’t mind. If anything, it reminded him of the fact that he was here, with you, making you feel good, getting to enjoy you once more.

“What about you?” Minho said once he disconnected his mouth from yours for air, leaving a trail of kisses from your cheek to your neck.

He wanted to know. He wouldn’t judge you, you were free to do as you pleased, after all. That was how it worked between you two, although ‘worked’ could be considered a very loose term here. “Has anyone taken care of you these past handful of months?”

You shook your head, inhaling sharply when Minho continued his descent down your torso, attaching his mouth to your chest as his fingers kept going in and out of you, as he kept stimulating that area within your walls that he knew would get you to lose your train of thought.

Of course you hadn’t had sex with anyone else. You never did. You hadn’t in years, just like Minho hadn’t, either.

“I only–Oh!” Your words cut off, replaced by a breathy moan once Minho’s lips found one of your nipples and sucked it into his mouth to flick it with his tongue. He could feel you clenching hard around his fingers, and it almost made him dizzy with how hard it was getting him. 

You swallowed, audibly. Your fingers tangled in Minho’s hair, tugging at it as he kept working you up. With his fingers, with his mouth, with his tongue… He loved to coax the most delicious sounds out of your lip, but he wanted to know. He needed to know. So he let go of your nipple, finding your burning gaze as soon as he looked at your face. 

“I haven’t”, you whined, just as you sneaked a hand down your body, finding your clit to draw circles on it. “You are the only person I ever want. I’ve been cursed since the very first day I met you…”

The bead of precum that had been slowly growing on the tip of his cock fell onto the bed once your words registered in his brain. And Minho realised then that he, too, had been cursed since the very first day he met you. Cursed to be in love with you for the rest of his days, cursed to have to ignore that fact and live in this arrangement you two had conjured.

Leaning in, he captured your lips again, and the whimper that came out of your mouth as soon as he started to kiss you was enough for him to know just how true it all was.

“Go faster”, Minho mumbled against your lips between kisses, picking up the pace of his fingers. “C’mon, baby, I know you’re close. Rub your precious little clit faster. I need you to come on my fingers”. 

“But…” You started to protest, but you sped up your motions anyway, squirming, whining. “It’s too soon”. 

“Doesn’t matter”, Minho kept flicking his fingers against your sweet spot, just as you kept pleasuring yourself. “I’ll get you to come again later. We’ve got all night. Please, love…”

He returned his mouth to your nipple, suckling and licking the hardened bud. You were swearing a lot, writhing a lot, and as soon as the most desperate ‘close…’ fell from your lips, he trapped your nipple between his teeth, nibbling softly on the sensitive flesh. Your whole body shook with your release, and your moans mingled with his own groans of satisfaction. He revelled in the way your walls clamped around his fingers, in the squelching sounds produced by the movement of his fingers going in and out of your heat. 

Minho let go of your nipple, already knowing it’d be too much for you after your high. Your hand on your clit stopped, but you kept your fingers there, applying pressure to prolong your release just as he kept slowly stimulating your walls.

“Fuck…” You finally moved your hand away from between your legs, and your body slumped on the bed, a clear signal that your high was over. 

Pulling his fingers from your core, he slid them up to tease your sensitive clit for a second, chuckling at the jolt of your body with the contact. You looked so absolutely stunning like this. Flushed, panting, almost glowing. 

Holding your gaze, he brought his fingers to his mouth, savouring your taste as he licked them clean. You swallowed, and Minho removed his fingers from his mouth, only to bring them to yours. “Open up, sweetheart”. 

And you did. Letting him ease his fingers inside your mouth. Your lips wrapped around his digits oh, so perfectly, and your tongue lapped him up just as your eyes closed and your brows pulled together with a muffled moan. “Look at you… Always eager to give a good suck”. 

You hummed, nodding. 

“Most beautiful girl in the galaxy”, he couldn’t help but say as he looked at you eagerly sucking on his fingers, as he felt your tongue lick his digits. 

When he removed his fingers from your mouth, he finally leaned in, pressing a brief kiss to your forehead, and moving to connect your mouths once again right after. He hugged you close, laying on top of you and covering you with as much of his body as he could, enjoying your warmth.

Minho finally let you take a breather, removing his mouth from yours to instead press kisses on your collarbone. You sighed, content, and the way you massaged his scalp as you held him close had heat spreading in his chest and face, probably making him blush like a fool.

“Fuck, I haven’t come that hard in months…” you mumbled, still slightly breathless. Minho chuckled, resting his weight on one elbow to look at your face, smiling softly at you. 

“And we’re only just getting started, hm?” Minho kissed you briefly, pulling away from you when he felt your hand wrap around his length, stroking him leisurely. “Nuh-uh. None of that”, he tugged your hand away from his cock, eliciting a pout in response.

“You don’t want me to touch you?”

“Oh, baby…” Minho stretched his arm, blindly reaching for the knob of the drawer of your nightstand. “Want you to touch me so much”, he blindly rummaged through it, quickly finding the box of condoms he knew you kept there. “But I want you so fucking bad right now. Need to be inside you now or I’ll combust”. 

You chuckled against his lips when he leaned in to press a quick peck on your lips. Pulling himself from you for a moment, he focused on the box in his hand, dumping the contents on the bed by your head and grabbing a single packet.

There were still as many as he had seen last time he was here with you. 

Minho quickly tore the foil packet open and slid the condom on his length, giving himself a couple of tentative pumps to make sure it was all secure. Lining himself with your entrance, he teased you for a moment, lost in your lustful gaze and the way you bit your lip in anticipation, lost in the burning desire inside of him. 

He couldn’t help but kiss you again, right as he started to ease his cock between your walls. You moaned, holding him tightly, kissing him desperately. Minho simply grunted, and he started to feel lightheaded just by your warmth around him. You were so intoxicating, and the feeling of you around him was so familiar, and even a bit comforting. As he slid centimetre after centimetre within your core, he was reminded of why he was here.

Because you were warm. 

Because you were home.

Once he bottomed out, he propped himself up to look at your face. One of your hands came to rest on his cheek, and your thumb softly caressed his skin. Minho turned his head a bit, just enough to kiss your palm as he started to move. The feel of you around him, warm, tight, wet, made him close his eyes, made him quietly moan as he enjoyed the onslaught of sensations coursing through him.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, and your heel dug on his ass, trying to get him closer to you. 

“Harder”, was all you mumbled, and it made him chuckle and open his eyes. 

“I’m trying to be careful and you want me to go harder?” Minho kept his rhythm slow, almost teasing you.

“Who’s asking you to be careful?” You pressed your lips to his neck, once again making him flush–although at this point he wasn’t sure if the flush had diminished at all since he came into this room. “It’s been too long, darling. Six months, three weeks, and two days, to be exact. I missed you, and all I want is for you to fucking ruin me, Minho”.

“Shit, what am I gonna do with you…” 

Pulling himself away from your embrace, he sat straighter, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder and starting a brutal pace right then and there. The moan of surprise that came out of your mouth as soon as he started moving fueled him, it almost made him lightheaded, making him completely forget where you two were, not caring if people heard you at all.

Minho wasn’t sure where to focus; on your tits bouncing with every single one of his thrusts, on the way your face scrunched up in bliss, on the absolutely divine feeling of you wrapped so snugly around him… All combined had sparks of pleasure racing up and down his spine, had his head spinning.

“Is this what you wanted?” With a tight grip on your thigh, keeping your leg flush to him, making sure to hit that area within your walls that would make you produce all those sounds he wanted to hear. 

You nodded, swallowing as you brought a hand to his abdomen, sinking your nails into his flesh. The sting made him grunt, made him throw his head back and snap his hips just a tad faster.

“Look at me”, you mumbled, somehow both commanding and breathless, dragging your nails down his abdomen. As soon as Minho complied, your lascivious gaze almost made him burst. Eye contact was a thing that you always enjoyed, but he wasn’t too sure he’d be able to stand it for long, not at this moment at least. The way you looked at him always made him want to blow, especially so after months of no physical contact.

Minho just chuckled, finding your breast with his free hand to knead the flesh and pinch and roll your nipple between his fingers, eliciting a strained moan from you, making you bite your lip to keep your volume in check. “Are you trying to make me blow?”

As soon as the question came out of his mouth, he felt you clench around him, and he couldn’t help but groan at the sensation. He knew you were doing it on purpose, you always liked to work him up, get him to lose his sanity with the simplest things, and he always fell for it, because it was just so good. “What if I am?”

“You sound… Way too self-assured for someone who’s… Borderline gasping for air, you know?” 

The laugh that had started to bubble over from you got caught in your throat, replaced by a string of swear words as Minho moved his hand from your breast to your mound and pressed his thumb on your clit. He might’ve been struggling, but he was determined to get you to struggle as well.

You swallowed, licking your lips as you clearly tried to pull yourself together enough to bicker with him. “But you like it, huh?” 

“I fucking do, shit…” He just sped up his fingers, trying to get you to your peak as fast as possible.

Minho really couldn’t tell how much time passed of him pounding into you, rubbing your clit and tugging on your nipples, and he honestly didn’t care, either. This was always the best part, getting to lose himself in the moment, pleasuring you and getting pleasure of his own just by the feel of you there, under him, around him.

Every time you spoke, it brought him increasingly closer to the edge, your ‘just like that, baby’, and your frequent and almost incomprehensible ‘so fucking good’ simultaneously going to his head and his cock, fueling him even further. When you finally came, he couldn’t hold back the groans that came out of his mouth in tandem with your moans. The feeling of you clenching so tightly around him sent a shiver down his spine, and before he knew it, he was leaning into you, kissing you deeply, messily as he chased his own release.

You held him tightly, tiny squeals muffling against his lips as he kept his relentless pace. The sudden sting of your nails trailing down his back was the final push he needed. Minho saw white for a brief moment, groaning and grunting and maybe even moaning at the feel of your teeth sinking on his bottom lip, at the feel of your hands on his back, and your hips flush to his as he filled the condom inside of you–the only physical barrier between his body and yours.

All that pent up tension he’d been harbouring for months and months seemed to quickly evaporate from his muscles as he melted into you, into your kiss and your tight hug. His ears were ringing a bit, but he didn’t mind. All he could care about was the fact that you were right there, pressed completely against him.

After he left one more kiss on your lips, he pulled back just enough to look at you. You smiled at him, a genuine smile that had his heart skipping every other beat inside his ribcage. He returned the gesture, just as you brought your hand to push his now soaked fringe away from his forehead, pulling him down to press a kiss right there, making him chuckle in disbelief.

Once he pulled himself away from you completely, he carefully slid the condom off of his length, tying a knot to make sure nothing spilled out. Taking the discarded foil packed, he placed it on your nightstand and laid the condom on top of it to dispose of later. 

As he laid back down, he simply looked at you. You had that look in your eyes, the one you hardly ever showed to the people around you… Vulnerability. Minho always saw it after you two had sex, and he knew that under that vulnerability there was something, many unsaid words that you wouldn’t dare say out loud to him. 

“Marry me”, Minho broke the silence, and you huffed an incredulous chuckle.

“Aren’t you tired of asking me to marry you?” 

“Are you tired of me asking you to marry me?”

You went silent for a moment, just looking into his eyes. Minho didn’t really need you to respond, he knew what the answer was. 

“No, I’m not”, you replied simply, exactly what he knew you would say. “How would we even make a marriage work? We can’t even make a relationship work, Lee Minho”. 

“We’ve never tried”. 

It was true. Although the connection he shared with you was laps more than physical, you’d never entertained the possibility of a relationship. You hadn’t let him try, and he hadn’t been persistent–sure, he asked you to marry him every other encounter you had, but he never really pushed it. Because he knew it was a complex situation, him being an outlaw, a pirate, a rebel, and you being a smuggler, both probably with hefty bounties on your heads.

“Do you want to try?” you sounded genuinely incredulous, almost as if you had just realised that he was being genuine about it.

Minho propped his head on his elbow, just looking at you. And then it dawned on him. “You’ve never thought I was being serious when I asked you to marry me before, have you?”

You opened and closed your mouth a few times, but ultimately, you shook your head, and he couldn’t help but scoff, dropping his head back on the bed to stare at the ceiling. 

“Well, I have been. Every time”.

“But why?” Your voice was barely a whisper, and when he turned to look at you his heart clenched just by seeing tears collect in your eyes. You didn’t let them fall, though.

“Because I love you”, Minho replied simply. “You’re clever, fun, one of the bravest people I’ve ever met, you’ve saved my life numerous times. Whenever I’m with you I feel at peace, and when I’m not, I worry about you, about your health, or I wonder if you’re out there getting yourself in trouble and I’m not there to help… I’ve just… Been in love with you for years, and I can’t keep on going pretending that I’m not. That I’m okay leaving your bed or an inn or you leaving my ship as if I don’t want you to stay”.

Minho could feel the lump in his throat, the way his voice shook slightly, but he didn’t care. He needed to let those thoughts out now, otherwise he wasn’t sure how long it would be until he got this boost of courage again. He honestly hadn’t even realised how much he’d been hurting with this until the words came out of his mouth. He’d spent years pretending this arrangement was fine. It clearly wasn’t. At least not anymore.

You went quiet for a while. A long while. Minho was honestly starting to second-guess ever opening his mouth, and it was just as he was about to stand up from that bed that you finally moved, wrapping one of your arms around his waist and burying your face in his chest.

“I hadn’t thought… I didn’t think…” You were rambling, your voice was muffling against his skin, it was hard to understand anything you were saying with the verbiage that was coming out of your mouth

“Hey… It’s okay”, Minho dragged his hands up and down your spine, hugging you even tighter against him, effectively stopping your ramble. “Breathe…”

You took a deep breath, draping your leg over his hips and pulling him even closer to you, which did ease his worries a bit–at least you weren’t kicking him out of your bed just yet.

“You smell nice…” You mumbled suddenly, rubbing your face on his chest. It immediately made his heart race and his chest flush. Minho wanted to say something, but honestly, the words were stuck in his throat, suddenly feeling bashful, as if he wasn’t naked on your bed after having sex with you.

When you finally pulled away from his chest, you looked him in the eyes, looking incredibly vulnerable. Minho simply brought a hand to your cheek, feeling your heated skin under his palm as his thumb moved back and forth.

“Minho… Every time you go, every time I leave, my heart just hurts so much. And I honestly don’t know how to deal with it. With my feelings, or how we could even make this work”.

“I’m sure we can figure something out… Maybe not today, maybe not even this week, but I’m sure we can”.

You closed your eyes then, heaving a sigh. “You know this isn’t gonna be easy, right?”

“I’m aware”, Minho’s lips quirked up a bit, suddenly amused by your choice of words, and he couldn’t help but bring even more clarity to it. “It hasn’t been easy until now, either, has it?” You gave him a smile as well, opening your eyes again. “I’m willing to take my chances. I… Really want to try”.

Your gaze flickered between his eyes for a bit, and then you were leaning in, pressing a tender, brief kiss on his lips. 

“I want that, too”, you whispered, pecking his lips once again, murmuring the most tender ‘I love you’ as you hugged him even tighter, making Minho go impossibly redder, making his heart beat so fast he thought it would leap out of his chest. “If you don’t come back alive from your insane borderline suicide mission, I’ll personally go to the afterlife and kill you again”.

Minho chuckled, pecking your lips. “If you help me then you can make sure I don’t die at all, sweetheart”.

“Huh, so that’s why you’re here now professing your love to me? Trying to seduce me into helping you fulfil your pirate affairs?” Pushing him to lay on his back, you got on top of him, kissing him time and time again. His heart felt as if it was ready to burst, and for a brief moment, it was almost as if everything was okay. As if everything would be fine.

“Need I remind you you brought me into this room yourself?” With a hand on your bum and the other on the back of your neck, Minho simply kept kissing you, uncaring of anything happening outside of these walls. 

“Don’t change the topic”.

“Is it working, though? Am I successfully seducing you?”

You scoffed at that, pressing one loud, final kiss on his lips before you shuffled around, sitting on him, straddling his hips, and placing your hands on his chest. “Of course I’m gonna fucking help you, Lee Minho. But not because you’ve got the best stroke game I’ve ever experienced, but because I stupidly believe in your cause”.

“Gods… Keep inflating my ego, please”, Minho couldn’t help but groan. His hands immediately found your hips, kneading the soft flesh there. “I just love it when you do”.

“I know you do”, you grinned, dragging one of your hands all over his flushed chest, up his neck, finally settling it on his cheek.

Minho caught your hand in his, keeping it in place as he turned to press a kiss to your palm. Your gaze shifted then, that playful glint you usually had when you teased him replaced by something else, something akin to love, maybe even hope. And in that moment, he seriously believed everything would be okay. That he’d be able to save his friends, free the slaves, and make it out alive. That he’d finally get to truly be by your side.

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[tgmsunmontue]

Caring, Keeping and Collecting Transformers - A Guide 3/?

Maverick is unknowingly surrounded by Transformers. He knows something is up though. Just not quite what it is exactly.

Bradley and Jake, having never met, are embarking on their own journeys and will have to learn to deal with the fact that they've both been adopted by Transformers.

Despite having years more experience, Maverick is no help at all.

CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

              “I have heard rumors of this place, a haven, for those from Cybertron. A place with a skilled technician, even if they are human. We will need to check there, see if Jetfire’s wings have maybe made it there. I know there are… others there.”

              Jake gets the feeling that he’s not quite getting the whole story but he is more worried about the logistics.

              “Do you know where it is?”

              “I can fly there.”

              “Great for you. Do you need me to get there with Jetfire? Because I’m going to need a bit more than your gut instinct.”

              “I will guide you. It is West of here. And North.”

              “North West. Which leaves most of the entire fucking continent ahead of me, but sure, let’s get to work. I only have four more weeks of leave.”

              He organizes to borrow one of the large equestrian truck and trailers, says he’s taking the plane to a specialist welder, which isn’t that much of a stretch when he considers it. In the dead of night he watches as Starscream simply lifts the pieces of Jetfire into the back and wishes he had that much strength at his disposal. He’s pretty sure Starscream will only do as he asks for as long as it serves his own purpose, and that purpose right now is getting his friend fixed up. And for that he currently needs Jake.

…           …           …

              Maybe his friends were right and his car is possessed. He had fallen asleep once and when he’d woken up they’d been over halfway back to California. Even if he doesn’t have to buy gas he’s getting very sick of simply zig-zagging across middle-America. He puts his feet on the brake and while it doesn’t respond immediately it does slow down and pull over and Bradley gets out and walks for a bit, ignoring as best he can that the car is following him at a crawling pace. He’s pretty sure kicking the tires is not a good idea.

              “Look… I want to go home to Virginia Beach.”

              Something is wrong with my baby… the radio crackles out, and then Something is wrong is repeated and he doesn’t like the way all the little hairs on his forearms suddenly prickle up.

              “Okay. Okay. Message received loud and clear. Get us back to… wherever it is you need to go. Uh. Do you need me there? Cause I could just leave you to it if you like?”

              I still want you by my side…

              “Man your taste in music really sucks.”

              You’re not better than me.

              “You aren’t making a good argument…” Bradley mutters, but he gets back in and resigns himself to going wherever his car wants to take him.

…           …           …

              “I am not a robot and I cannot drive non-stop!” Jake hisses at Starscream. He’d punctuate his words with a finger to the chest, except he feels like he’d likely break a finger. Also having to reach that far up probably makes the gesture just look silly. “I am a human and I need to eat and sleep and take fucking toilet breaks. Go and hide yourself in a field somewhere if you’re meant to keeping a low profile. I am getting food and then sleeping for eight hours.”

              Starscream stalks off muttering about pushy humans but Jake cannot bring himself to care. He’s been driving for over fourteen hours, and he’s used to pushing his body to its limits, but he cannot drive another five minutes. His eyes are gritty, body stiff and his stomach is grumbling. His bladder is also screaming at him and he quickly enters the diner, orders food and then makes a beeline for the bathroom. His body slumps with relief and he heads back to eat and enjoy his food. He’s also refueling the truck, another thing Starscream doesn’t seem to appreciate.

              He pulls himself into the back of the truck, runs his fingers over the body of Jetfire, the vibrations under his fingers still there and he knows he’s probably not imagining it now. He pulls out the bedroll and camping mattress he’d packed, not prepared to pay for accommodation when he could bunk in the truck. The smell of horses isn’t anything that bothers him. He falls asleep and doesn’t feel the rocking motion of movement.

…           …           …

              He wakes up feeling rested, glances at his watch and yep, seven hours sleep exactly. He leaves the bedding where it is, knows he’s likely going to need it again and unlocks the door, pushing it open. He’s expecting to see the truck stop, other trucks pulled in for a rest. Except that’s not where he is at all. He’s somewhere else, nothing but tussocky grasslands stretching in every direction, mountains in the distance. There’s a road, long and straight in both directions and he groans. He has no fucking clue where he is, or where he’s meant to be going, or where Starscream has fucked off to. He walks around the side, and hunched in the shadow of the truck, trying to conceal himself, is Starscream.

              “Oh, there you are. Did you… drive us here?”

              “Carried. I had to stop and hide often, but the cover of darkness helped. I had to stop when dawn approached.”

              “Of course you did. Where are we?”

              “California.”

              “Okay. So I’m guessing no more West. Just North now?”

              “We are close. Less than an hour travel.”

              “Oh. Cool. Uh. You have any more instructions you can give me?”

              Starscream tries his best, or at least Jake hopes he’s trying, but then he mentions he can land there as a plane and Jake looks at him in disbelief.

              “So it’s an airstrip?”

              “Yes.”

              “Okay, then there’s likely to be signs, and wind socks and other things I can use to guide me.”

              “There are buildings, shaped like this,” Starscream says, drawing a semicircle in the dirt and Jake nods.

              “Hangars. There are hangars. That’s to be expected.”

              “One is… newly painted. That is the one we want,” Starscream states and then pauses. “It may not be a warm welcome.”

              Jake groans.

              “Now you tell me.”

              “You will be fine.”

              Jake raises a disbelieving eyebrow, he has no real choice but to go along with it, his curiosity almost at fever pitch. Also he wants to see if he can get Jetfire up and working again.

              He drives.

…           …           …

              When he starts recognizing things his stomach starts sinking, unable to believe that he’s heading towards Maverick’s hangar. There’s a chance that, however slim, that they’ll blow past the turnoff, but nope, the Bronco is slowing and the turn signal is flashing and he crosses his arms, feeling justified in his sulk. He can’t believe he’s been abducted by his own freaking car, which is now moving very slowly, and Bradley is starting to feel uneasy, because it’s like his car has suddenly gotten cautious, like it’s expecting something. And not something good.

              It stops by the hangar and Bradley reaches for the door, but then the locks all slam into place and Bradley slams his hands on the dash.

              “Seriously?!”

              “Be quiet.”

              His jaw drops, because that was definitely a voice, not music coming from the radio, not something he could even begin to pass off as his imagination. He doesn’t know if he could make noise now even if he hadn’t just been told to be quiet. Then he sees the large horse truck driving down the road that is parallel with the airstrip, and he wonders what about it seems to have his car effectively pacing in front of the hangar doors. Then the doors are opening but his attention is drawn to the plane coming into land. He’s pretty sure it’s an F-15 Eagle, and god, he wouldn’t put it past Maverick to have collected yet another fighter jet, and he doesn’t know if he’s ready to face Maverick himself.

              Then the unthinkable happens, the plane seems to crumple midair as it comes to land, and he thinks it’s undergone catastrophic failure before realizing it’s reforming into something else and is landing on two legs rather than wheels and he’s blinking fast, trying to double check his vision isn’t making things up. Then he feels his car move around him and he’s tossed, semi-gently and then his car is also on legs rather than wheels and he just gapes up at it, mind racing.

…           …           …

              Holy shit.

              Holy fucking shit.

              There are so many of them.

              Nearly everything that he can see is changing form and suddenly looking a fuck load more aggressive and he shrinks back, presses himself into the leather of the seat. He thought he saw someone else, a human someone else, not a robot someone, because he’s seeing dozens of them right now. Wonders a little hysterically if this is some type of convention, and if it is, what they all discuss. Can they all talk? Sucking in a deep breath he decides he needs to get out and ask questions, even if the welcome is so far a little frosty. Starscream had predicted this.

              “Human. They will not hurt you. Me however…” Starscream shrugs then and Jake has gotten pretty good at reading his expressions, and he’s not comfortable right now. While he isn’t the friendliest of… robots, he hasn’t threatened to anything bad, and Jake isn’t going to let a bunch of other robots take him down. Not that he can really stop them if they decide to.

              “Look, uh, hi? My name is Jake… we’re hoping we might get some help to fix our friend, Jetfire?”

              “Decepticon scum, you come here asking for help?” the blue robot which had been a Bronco only ten minutes okay spits out and Jake looks to Starscream, because he doesn’t understand Decepticon, but he does understand scum and the tone leaves nothing to the imagination. Saying it might not be a warm welcome was maybe underselling it a bit he thinks.

              “I do not come seeking help for me. The human speaks true. We have the body of Jetfire. I thought here might… be the best place to bring him.”

              It’s a staring competition between Starscream and the Bronco-robot and Jake’s reminded of stand-offs between some guys in high school, waiting to see who will blink first. He’s pretty sure the fallout from these two exchanging blows would do considerable more damage.

              “Neither of you rule here, this is my space, and you will not begin anything. Do I make myself understood?”

              Jake doesn’t know who the new robot is, but the tone of voice is sharp, commands respect and seems to rebuke both of the other robots despite the fact they’ve both taller by at least a foot. He’s not sure what kind of vehicle they’re meant to be, but it’s more similar to Starscream than the Bronco-bot. Regardless, he can’t help but be impressed.

CHAPTER FOUR

[azucarmorena97]

Money Ties (Jungkook Love Story || Pt.11)

Pt.10 || Pt.12

Your parents have worked hard to get to the top and have made sure to teach you everything you need to know to be successful in this business: from tough but lucrative financial decisions, down to the right ball gown for any given banquet. A promising and extravagant future awaits you- that is, if you agree to one teensy detail...

Son of Mr.Jeon Sr. and heir to June Company, Jeon Jungkook is an immature playboy with nothing to offer a woman but good looks and a crap ton of money, and he stands to inherit much MUCH more, so long as you both enter into the arranged marriage contract that was drawn up before the pair of you were even born.

You're more than willing to try, but you're not sure you'll be able to stand each other long enough to inherit a single penny...

Series Warnings: There will be smut in the near future and I will label those chapters as such. As I say before most of my pieces- I do not endorse any themes, ideas, or behaviors in this series. This is all purely fiction/fantasy! Feel free to inbox me suggestions/ideas/what you'd like to see in this series and I'll see what I can do! Enjoy <3

Recap: Suddenly, it's as though the world was set to slow motion; Frame by frame, you watch as Jungkook lifts your veil, the last barrier between you and destiny.

He wraps his arm around your waist and brings you closer to him until your faces are centimeters apart, "To the ride," He whispers, drawing back to the night where you both shared a toast at the bar. "To the ride."

His lips collide with yours and eventually, you don't know where you end and he begins- as now, and forevermore, you are but one flesh.

When he pulls away, he looks at you under hooded eyes, lashes barely exposing his beautiful brown irises. You'd give anything to stay like this...

But of course, it comes time for the both of you to turn to everyone: friends, family, and receive their love and cheers. He grabs your hand and then the both of you are running out of the ballroom, the crowds muted by the double doors closing behind the both of you.

For a moment, you and him are alone again, as the photographers haven't made their way out to take your photos.

"You look so beautiful..." He says, his own cheeks blushing slightly. "Thanks...They-they found a dress," You say, adjusting your shoulder straps nervously, feeling quite shy yourself under his gaze.

"I can see..." He can't take his eyes off of you, meanwhile, you're looking everywhere else but at him; you might just burst if you do.

Finally, the photographer comes out and leads you both out to the courtyard of the hotel; the perfect spot for photos. There's a tall fence around the perimeter of the courtyard, along with a tall hedge full of beautiful flowers. You do, however, spot a few cameras being held high on the other side of the fence in order to capture a few lucky pictures of your groom. "Are those...paparazzi?" You ask. "Yeah...a lot of people really care about our wedding." "I can see."

It does make you a tad uncomfortable, but you try to shake it off; this is something you'll have to get used to. Back home, no one really recognizes you- although, you do typically keep a pretty low profile. Jungkook, on the other hand, has a slew of loyal followers ranging in the thousands- as confirmed by his social media.

"Okay, Mr.Jeon, can we get one of you hugging her?" The photographer asks. Without hesitation, Jungkook pulls you in from your waist, pressing you close to himself. You blush, not used to such public displays of affection...not used to affection very much at all, considering you've never had a boyfriend. This is gonna take some getting used to.

"Mrs.Jeon, a little more to the left."

That's gonna take some getting used to, too.

"Ah! Mr. and Mrs.Jeon!" B/f/n's voice travels over to the both of you as the bridesmaids and groomsmen all trail behind her into the courtyard.

"Shut up," You laugh. "My man!" One of the groomsmen come up to Jungkook and hugs him, "I'm happy for you- for the both of yo." He turns to you and extends his hand for you to shake.

"Thanks, uhm...?" "I'm sorry, I know we haven't formally met you. I'm Felix," He says with a sweet smile. He's quite handsome, as is typical for Jungkook's friends. "I'm Y/n," You say with a slight bow.

"That's Mrs.Jeon to you," Jungkook cuts back in, wrapping his arm around your bare shoulders, though his smile is playful.

Suddenly, Jungkook is abruptly pulled of of you, "Kookie! I'm so happy for you!" Lisa exclaims, throwing herself on him before he gets a chance to react. He doesn't hug her back, just keeps his arms open, "Lisa- I- uhm, thanks."

She pulls away slightly, though she doesn't let him go, "Look at you all grown up and mature now."

You didn't think she'd stoop so low, but here she is blatantly flirting with him in front of you and everyone else. "Yeah...thanks," Jungkook says, clearly uncomfortable. He gently pulls her off of himself, which is clearly a move she didn't expect from him because she immediately goes into clean-up mode, "And you- you make the most beautiful bride, Y/n!"

"Thanks." You can't even be bothered to say anymore than that because if you do, these cameras are gonna catch you pummeling her into the ground in your wedding dress.

"Anyway!" B/f/n cuts into the conversation, emphasizing how awkward the interaction is, "Time for pictures!"

And, as though someone has flipped a switch, everyone is back to their excitement and merriment.

Except, of course, Lisa.

All things considered, the time spent taking pictures was a breeze. Everyone got their chance to pose with you and Jungkook, and you're sure even the paparazzi must've gotten a few good shots.

Now, you're all standing outside of the dining hall waiting to be announced upon entry. Pair by pair, each bridesmaid and goormsman walks in until it's only you and Jungkook.

"Ready?" He asks, a smile on his face as he takes a deep breath. You nod, "Ready."

"And now, I'd like to present, for the first time ever as man and wife, Mr. and Mrs.Jeon!"

You and Jungkook enter into a room teeming with cheers and shouts, a few tables being banged on in excitement.

Of course, unable to resist the applause, Jungkook take an exaggerated bow and then pulls your hand straight up in the air in triumph before leading you to the table where all your court is already sat, with two large empty seats in the middle, saved for the both of you.

Slowly, guests come up to congratulate you both personally, their smiles genuine and warm. All this time you spent dreading your wedding day; you never thought you'd feel so at peace in your new role- of course, it's only been about an hour and a half.

You spot Namjoon walking around from table to table recording people, "Wanna say a few words to the bride and groom?" He looks quite happy for being "Jungkook's babysitter", as he'd put it that night at Jungkook's birthday party. You chuckle. "Namjoon's funny, isn't he?" Jungkook asks, as though he's able to read your mind. "Yeah...very much so." "You know he's totally in love with B/f/n, right?" "Totally." You watch as B/f/n follows him around with a small ring light.

Soon, people start making their way to the dance floor, having had their fill of food and drinks. "Come dance with us, Mr. and Mrs.Jeon," B/f/n says, pulling on your wrist. You look at Jungkook who is aggressively noding his head, "Oh, absolutely." He puts his drink down and then grabs your other wrist, the both of them leading to the dancefloor with the rest of your court- except Lisa, who you spotted only moments ago, seething, sitting at a table with Rose, arms crossed.

You all dance together in a cluster on the dance floor, Jungkook and Felix are clowns, of course, and soon they're pulling their pant legs up so they can get in a "twerking stance." "They're a little too good at this," B/f/n laughs, "Oh, you should see him twerk on a door," Namjoon cuts in, bringing his drink up to his lips as he sways slightly. Jungkook looks at Namjoon, clearly already a little buzzed and he puts his hands square on Namjoon's shoulders, "You were the best ring bearer that ever...beared rings." "And you were the best groom that ever...Yeah, let me not finish that sentence." "Aaaay! The wedding man!" You all turn to see Jin coming up and throwing his arm on Jungkook's shoulders, "You sly devil, how'd you manage to nab a girl this fine," He says, motioning to you. Jungkook's tone gets immediately more serious, "Yo, that's my wife." "Of course, of course. I'm sorry- you know how I get when I get a few drinks in me. I say whetever comes to mind." "Oh, we know." Namjoon rolls his eyes. Jin says, "I'm so glad there was a wedding after all." "The wedding was never off, dweeb," Namjoon looks annoyed whenever he has to interact with Jin- I wonder if it's because he's almost always intoxicated. Jin furrows his brows, "I know, I meant after the whole dress thing." You all look at each other in confusion, "What about my dress?" You ask, narrowing your eyes at him.

As far as you know, your mom and B/f/n didn't tell anyone about the dress except Jungkook and it was right before the ceremony. The dress you're wearing now is one they'd previously considered at the bridal shop weeks ago that they'd held on to in case you didn't like the first one. How the hell did this bozo know anything about your dress?

Unless...

"Oh- uhm, your dress? I- I didn't mean to say that," Jin's eyes widen and he starts trying to backtrack. Jungkook gets in his face and takes Jin's arm off from his shoulders, "No, too late. Say what you were going to say." "It's nothing, man. Like I said, I say anything when I'm drunk." "Jin." With Namjoon and Jungkook both standing so close to his face, Jin has no choice but to give in to the pressure. "LisatoldRosethatshewasgonnaruinY/n'sdressbforetheceremony!" He blurts. "What?" Jungkook asks. "Ugh...Lisa told Rose that she was gonna ruin Y/n's dress before the ceremony. She's been planning it since Mrs.Jeon asked her to be a bridemsaid..."

Your heart is pounding in your chest. Of course it was her. How could you not have known? The nerves and adrenaline of it all completely clouded your judgment before. You and B/f/n immediately start looking around for Lisa. Wedding or not, you're gonna beat this bitch's ass.

"Do you see her? I don't see her," B/f/n says, still looking around. "She was just there, what the hell?" You groan. When you turn back to say something to Jungkook, you realize he's not there anymore. "What- where'd he go?" You ask Namjoon, who only points in the direction of the dining hall doors.

You see Jungkook walking over to the security guards standing at their posts. You pick up the skirt of your dress and follow after him. Once you get over to where he is, the bodyguards immediately walk in the directions of the tables. "What- what are you doing?" He doesn't answer, just stands there watching. The goofiness from minutes before is gone and he seems completely sobered up. You both watch as the security guards approach a birdesmaid over at the punch bowl- It's Lisa.

They exchange a few words, her face going from confused to irritated, her eyes immediately darting to Jungkook, and then settling on you.

All three of them walk back toward where you are, right in front of the doors, and you see some people who were sitting in that general vicinity are now staring, whispering to each other. Everyone else seems completely oblivious.

"Kookie, what's going on?" She asks, her eyes switching from snake to deer in the headlights, but you know better than to fall into it. Does Jungkook?

"Cut the shit, Lisa. Jin told us everything," Jungkook hisses. "What- what are you talking about?" She starts playing with her fingernails, getting more and more nervous but trying to play it cool. "The dress, Lisa. The fucking dress. How could you do this to me? To Y/n?" "Are you insinuating that I had something to do with her dress?" She narrows her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest.

"You know, so many people have tried to warn me over the years, but I ignored it all. I ignored the warnings, I ignored the cattiness, I ignored the childish games- this ends here."

Her eyes get wide again, "Kook, come on. It's- it's not that serious. She found another dress- Y/n, come on. Can't fight your own battles so you got my best friend to turn on me?-" "Don't ever talk to my wife again." "Jungkook-" She puts her hand on Jungkook's arm but he swiftly pulls it away, "Get her out of here." He doesn't even stick around to watch her go, just grabs your hand and leads you out of the double doors and back out to the courtyard where you'd previously taken pictures with your court.

Once you're outside, he lets go of your hand and just leans against a pillar, putting his face in his hands, "I'm so sorry, Y/n."

"Jungkook, it's okay. I-" "No, it's not. You tried to tell me again and again and I didn't listen. I couldn't protect you even from something so petty. I'm so sorry-" You step toward him and take his hands off of his face, "Hey..." You say gently, looking up at him. "Hey..." He says, sadness melting into a small smile.

You hadn't noticed it before under the dim lights of the dining hall, but his cheeks are flushed the perfect shade of soft pink, the drinks having caught up to him, despite how soberly he was talking only moments ago. His hair is just messy enough to fall in his eyes, but still neat enough to hold an entire photoshoot for Calvin Klein if he wanted to, especially with his loosened tie and slightly unbuttoned dress shirt.

Again, Michelangelo's David comes to mind.

You stand in silence for a bit, basking in each other's presence; the first time you've been alone as husband and wife. It feels the same...and yet different. Jungkook's called you his wife twice tonight. Both times, it made your heart stir in your chest. You're his wife...

"You're my husband now," You say shyly, putting your hands behind your back and looking down, your smile practically cramping up your cheeks,

"I am," He chuckles, staring at you.

He takes another step closer and lifts your chin, your eyes locking once again, though just as you think he might kiss you, he's pulling your arms onto his shoulders and snaking his around your waist, beginning to sway with you. You only now notice that they've begun to play a slow song inside, the distance making the melody barely audible...but you don't mind.

You're in his arms again.

You lock your hands together behind his neck, letting him lead you, and you just let your head rest on him. After a moment, you realize he's humming. "You know this song?" You ask. "Mhm...She is Love by Parachute." "It's pretty." He doesn't respond, choosing instead to sing the words softly to you.

"It was all the same, all my pride and shame, but she put me on my feet... They call her love, love, love, love. She is love and she is all I need. She is love and she is all I need. She is love, and she is all I need."

His voice so angelic, you wish you could record this moment.

But that's the thing about these beautiful moments; we always wish we could capture them somehow, though if we could, they might not be so special anymore.

Maybe what makes them so, is their inability to be bottled up.

You and Jungkook are back at the dinner table chatting it up with your court, the only empty seat being Lisa's. Funny enough, Rose and Jin seem perfectly settled in and comfortable despite the fact that their bestie has been swiftly kicked out. You're sure Rose's mission is now to relay everything to Lisa.

"Excuse me everyone, may I please have your attention! Before we wrap up the party, the father of the groom would like to say a few words to the Bride and Groom." The DJ says, the lights brightening just a bit as Mr. and Mrs.Jeon Sr. come up to stand by the booth.

"Yes, hello everyone," Mr.Jeon bows, "I'm so happy that everyone came to support our family on this momentous occasion. Truly, an occasion we've looked forward to since the day our son was born," From where you and Jungkook sit, it almost looks like Mr.Jeon's eyes are watering.

"As you all know, this wedding will mark the beginning of the merger of our family companies, with my son and new daughter-in-law being the heirs. We cannot begin to express how incredibly proud we are of them- so, as a gift to express our love, my wife and I, along with Mr.L/n and Mrs.L/n, have gotten the bridge and groom a gift."

He waves you and Jungkook over, to which you both respond by looking at each other confusedly. Jungkook helps you out of your seat and you walk up to them. Mr.Jeon hands an envelope to Jungkook, who quickly opens it and pulls out its contents.

A paper, and two sets of keys.

"Wait-" Jungkook says, brows furrowed. He passes the paper to you and then looks at his dad, an expression of complete disbelief. "Congratulations, son."

A house. They've bought you a house.

Everyone begins cheering at every table, as though they've instantly understood the gift.

Jungkook immediately hugs his dad, and then his shoulders start shaking violently- he's begun to cry, and so has his father. You hug Mrs.Jeon tightly, and then go over to your parents who are sat at a table a few feet away, hugging them with all of your strength, your own tears falling onto their shoulders.

You rejoin Jungkook after he's had his moment, and he takes the mic from his dad, "Wow, I cannot tell you all how shocked we are. This was truly unexpected. I think I can speak for my wife-" He glances over at you, a smile on his face as he says it, "- and myself when I say that we are so grateful for the support our parents have given us, and also for the support you've all shown us. Not just today but every day leading up to this and even before. Friends, family- we love you all so much.

We couldn't have done it without you."

The rest of the party was a blur after that moment; more food, more drinks, more laughter and joy, and before you know it, it's all come to an end. "Okay, let's get you back to the hotel and get you out of this dress so you guys can pack your suitcase for the honeymoon!" B/f/n says, grabbing her purse and walking over to Namjoon really quickly. Jungkook looks at you, his soft eyes taking you in; you'll only be in this dress for a little while longer...he's not so eager to end this night yet. "Wanna go somewhere?" He says quietly. To which you smile and respond, "Sure."

"Ready?" B/f/n says, bright eyed and bushy tailed for someone who had thrown back at least 5 shots in the last hour and a half. "Uhm...I'm actually..." You don't quite know how to say it. "I'm gonna take her to the hotel," Jungkook interjects. "What? But you still have to-" "That sounds just fine," Namjoon says, coming up behind B/f/n and lightly pushing her along, giving the both of you a knowing smile. "Wait-" "Let's go, B/f/n," He coaxes. You and Jungkook share a little laugh and then walk out hand in hand to the car.

This time, rather than having a driver, Jungkook is behind the wheel. His arm is extended past the center console and resting on your knee, his thumb stroking the fabric gently. Your heart skips with every touch, and suddenly you feel like a shy teenager; maybe this is what Madonna was talking about when she sang, 'Like a Virgin'.

"What are you thinking about?" He asks, glancing at you. It's only just dawned on you that you've been quiet the entire car ride, which has been about 20 minutes. "I...I don't know." "Liar," He smiles. "I guess I'm just...taking it all in." "Me too." He pulls into a gas station and turns the car off, "Come on." "What? Where?" "Into the unknoooown," He sings. "Never took you as a Disney Princess guy," You laugh. He doesn't acknowledge what you'd said, just exits the car and walks around and opens your door, "My queen." His exaggerated bow elicits another laugh. You gather your skirt and somehow manage to jump out of the car. One arm hooked around his, you both walk into the gas station store. The few people inside turn to look at you and just continue staring. It was probably a strange scene: a bride and groom strolling in casually, walking over to the chip section. You almost wanna laugh imagining it from their perspective. "Pick anything you want," Jungkook says, excitedly picking up a few bags of chips for himself. You carefully examine the wide selection. He walks away to, you assume, look at more things- but when he comes back, he has a basket full of things. You toss a few bags of chips and a candy bar into the basket, along with two drinks; one for hydration, one for pleasure. "Done." He nods and walks over to the counter. "Will that be all?" The cashier says sarcastically. "Wait, wait..." Jungkook tosses in a small pack of gum, "Done."

You ride in happy silence, windows down, your hair falling out of the once-elegant wedding hair style, though you look just as beautiful- at least, that's what Jungkook thinks. You finally drive into a parking lot set on a hill, overlooking the beautiful cityscape. The businesses that would normally be bustling with clientele are closed for the night, so it's only the two of you there.

"Wow...it's beautiful out here," You say, dazzled by the way the lights twinkle down below, cars going back and forth, weaving in and out of sight between the buildings. "Yeah. I first found this spot a few years ago during one of my...not so bright moments," He chuckles, grabbing the bag with all the snacks and taking out his banana milk, "and I've just been coming ever since." "Hmm," You nod, thinking about what he's just said. Not so bright moments... "What does that mean?" You ask. You would've normally left suuch a vague statement alone, thinking if he wanted to expand then he would, but fuck it. That's your husband now, right? You deserve to know...you want to know. You want to know him so badly, now more than ever.

"What, did Namjoon not do a good enough job telling you all my business?" He smirks, causing you to roll your eyes playfully, "Shut up." His smile fades slightly as he sinks into deep thought; as though he's carefully selecting what words to use. "Well...after I came out of rehab, I kind of didn't know what to do with myself. I knew I couldn't go back to how I was living before, as far as the heavy drinking and the drugs- I had done a lot of damage to my family, you know? I couldn't bear to disappoint them like that again," He sighs, taking a sip of his drink, "So, I would spend hours- some times all night- just driving and driving. I drove everywhere, all alone. I drove angry, I drove sad, I drove numb, I drove happy...not that I had many happy moments at that time." You turn in your seat (as best as you can in this big ass dress) and look at him as he talks.

"Did you...ever ask anyone to drive with you?" He furrows his brows, a confused expression on his face, "No, I...I guess I didn't know that I could." Without another word, you reach over and grab his hand, squeezing it lightly. "You might just be the only person in my world who can relate to this feeling," He says in a low voice, looking down at your hands; you do the same. You know exactly what he means.

When you look back up, he's already looking at you; his eyes are low, dark obsidian pupils flickering back and forth from your eyes, to your lips, "Y/n..." "Yes?" You whisper, heart so loud you hear it in your ears. "Can I kiss you again?"

You nod, chest rising up and down as your breath catches in your throat. Not even at "You may kiss the bride" did your heart beat so fast as it does now.

His lips press firmly against yours and slowly, you feel both yours and his head moving rhythmically together.

When he pulls away breathlessly, you can see a tiny bit of your makeup on his nose and mouth, causing you to let out a little laugh.

"What?" He smiles, "Nothing..." You reach over and grab the side of his face, and this time, its your thumb stroking his cheek.

You could look at him forever...

Thanks for being patient in your wait for the next part! Let me know what more you want to see going forward into their married life! DM me some juicy drama to add in :)

[heartthrobin]

hold me like i’m more than just a friend

eddie munson x female!reader

wc: 3k

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, some swearing, first kiss (kinda), so much pining, henderson!reader, pre-season 4, they’re so in love ew

an: this is another piece from my ao3 but since you guys liked amuse and romance me like you do i thought you might enjoy this :) i’d love to hear your comments

summary: is it easier to keep pretending you’re not in love with Eddie Munson before or after he offers to kiss you to prove how good it can be?

The Yellow Piglet made the best bacon French toast in the whole of Indiana.

On weekends every booth in the cramped diner was occupied, especially Sunday mornings after the church service. The diner shared the street corner with a tall white church: a fact that always made Eddie laugh, he joked that if he ventured too close to the edge of the parking lot that he'd burst into flames.

The weekdays, however, were quiet. You'd make small tips in the morning with the gentlemen from the cop shop, the working class stopping in for a quick coffee and a bite - but by night it was dead inside.

It was one such night, the darkness seeping in through the windows with only the starchy yellow light reflecting off the countertops you found yourself wiping down with a filthy rag from the kitchen.

Eddie sat across the counter, grinning around a mouthful of raspberry pie you so graciously offer him every evening shift when he comes to pick you up. He usually brings Dustin after their Hellfire meetings, the rumble of his red van all the way at the end of the road audible from inside the shop, before picking you up to drop you both at the Henderson residence.

"—he came to me and said they kissed under the bleachers on the soccer field," Your words were punctured by laughter as you retold the story. "He was crying his little eyes out because he thought the kiss had gotten her pregnant."

The mane atop Eddie's head was thrown back in laughter, the little wisps of hair pushed out of his face and you couldn't help but notice how he glittered in the low light.

Dustin hadn't caught a lift with Eddie that night, having yelled out some excuse for him to be at Lucas' for the evening before leaving for school that morning. You'd phoned Eddie to tell him he didn't need to pick you up, you'd find a way, but he'd persisted.

"Don't worry about a thing, princess. I'll be there."

He spooned another piece of pie into his mouth, "I'm totally gonna use this story against him."

"Don't you dare," you whipped him playfully over his leathered shoulder with the wet rag. "He'd never forgive me."

Dustin had made you swear to never tell anyone that story, and you promised your little brother you'd never tell a soul, but somehow when Eddie glances up at you with those wide, wet brown eyes: the control you have over what spills out of your mouth is pathetically low.

You pushed the thought away rudely, give it a rest, this is becoming embarassing.

The owner's Frank Sinatra tape was still playing in the empty diner as you leaned to stack the last of the washed plates up on the shelf. He let you close up on your own when you had evening shift, and you appreciated it. It meant you could slip Eddie a piece of whichever pie was freshest and have an excuse to watch him over the counter just as you had done now.

"And what about yours?" His voice pulled you from your thoughts.

"My?"

"Your first kiss story, smarty pants." His eyes glimmered mischievously. "I'm sure it's just as entertaining as your brother's."

A chuckle forced itself up your throat, "It's really not."

Eddie leaned further forward over the counter and your heart lurched happily in your chest at the sight.

"Well, don't leave me in suspense here, Henderson."

You reached for the rag again, smoothing it over the counter as if you hadn't just cleaned it - desperate to have something to busy your hands. "It's ... you see, I haven't actually—"

"There's no ways you haven't had your first kiss."

The look up to meet Eddie's eyes was painful, "Why do you say it like that!"

He laughed, "I— it's just not possible, it's not a bad thing..." The air was thick and you noticed how he fidgeted in his chair, "you're just too pretty. To not have been kissed, I mean."

An uncomfortable heat pressed over your neck and face. he's just being nice, just fucking calm down.

"In any event..." you tried to momentarily ignore that Eddie had just called you pretty, but you knew it would ring in your ears all night. "That's not what I said."

It was true, you had, technically been given a first kiss. Just that you were too drunk to remember much of it and you were sure it had been horrible.

Eddie's eyebrow raised, "Oh yeah? Go on."

The fridge hummed into the space between you before you sighed deeply, the blush over your face only reddening.

"I kissed Jackson Gillespie at a party last year, but I was really drunk and he was really drunk ..."

Your eyes avoided Eddie's, but you could feel the weight of his gaze as you busied yourself with the already gleaming countertop.

"I don't remember any of it, just that it was ... uncomfortable, and wet. So yes, I've had a first kiss - and that's the story - but I kind of don't think it really counts."

It took all the willpower to meet Eddie's face again. He was smiling softly, licking over his fork in consideration, eyes all over you. Your stomach churned under his gaze.

"Hm, well that's a shame. A damn shame if I do say so myself." He folded his arms against the counter, leather jacket stretched over his arms.

It convinced a chuckle out of you, a light one as you felt the nervous churn of your stomach against your apron. "Oh yeah, and why's that?"

"Because kissing is nice. If you're with someone who knows what they're doing? Phew, it'll make you forget your own name."

Suddenly the chilly diner felt warmer, or maybe your uniform had grown thicker. You lifted the box of knives and forks from under the counter to stack away the last of the cutlery, trying to ignore the twisted fantasies Eddie's words were weaving into your brain.

"Seeing as nobody's had the stomach to kiss me sober, I'll just have to take your word for it."

He was surveying you carefully and you suddenly realized how pitiful your response had sounded, "I didn't mean—"

"I could show you."

The butter knife clanged as it hit the tile floor. Your throat closed around your breathing pipe.

"W-What?"

Eddie took a nonchalant sip of the milk you offered with the pie, his shit-eating grin visible from behind the clear glass. "Don't look so scared, Henderson. I'm just trying to right the wrong the universe has done you. Only if you want, to that is."

You blinked at him. "You want ... you mean, to kiss me?"

"If it helps, I've never had any complaints."

A sharp sting of jealousy ran somewhere beneath the stream of adrenaline pumping through your chest at the thought of Eddie kissing other people. You ignore it to deal with the more current circumstance.

Eddie Munson just offered to kiss you in the dimness of your diner and not only just kiss you, but to kiss you well.

You couldn't count all the times you'd lain in bed imagining what it would be like to kiss the Dungeon Master since the first time he waltzed into the restaurant with your little brother attached to his side. Admittedly, you'd pictured something a little more spontaneous.

The offer that he was presenting wrapped carefully around your brain.

"Right now?" It came out as more of a squeak than anything.

He set his fork down, "No time like the present. Isn't that what the old people say?"

Biting carefully on the corner of your bottom lip, you offered a cautious glance. "Eddie, if you're doing this out of pity then I'd rather not—"

He rolled his eyes playfully, "Kiss you out of pity? Don't make me laugh. Just get over here."

You flattened out your uniform, rounding the edge of the counter - every alarm in your brain going off all at once.

What if this is a cruel joke?

The plastic over the chair squeaked quietly as you slid yourself onto it, the place right beside Eddie's.

No, Eddie would never do that. He's just being helpful.

He twisted in his seat to face you. "Ready, princess?"

Eddie watched how your eyes flickered between his own, desperate for a place to settle. He prayed you couldn't hear his heartbeat, although he was sure it could be heard all the way across Hawkins.

He was still mostly in shock about how he'd managed to convince you into kissing him. Eddie felt almost bad that he was leading you into him under such false pretenses as to just show you a good time when really Eddie just didn't think he would survive another day on this planet without the knowledge of what your puffy lips tasted like. So when he saw his opportunity, he seized it - only about 20% sure you'd actually take him up on it.

A soft smile slid across your mouth and you giggled softly, "Actually, you have a little ..."

Your hand lifted to his face, the pad of your thumb wiping gently at the edge of his mouth where he could feel the crumbs roll off.

"You had a little pie around your mouth, and I'm not willing to kiss a dirty mouth, Munson."

You wiped your hand on the apron in your lap, the apron pressed against the baby pink dress you were forced to wear as a server at the Yellow Piglet. God, he loved that little fucking pink dress. You looked like a doll straight out the box and when you climbed into the front seat of his van, the skirt would lift and tease him with the upper expanse of your thigh.

With every passing day, every late night pickup and now you wiping down the corners of his mouth like you could almost love him: Eddie was finding it harder and harder to not just fall onto his knees and beg you to be his.

He chuckled, "Oh, you're gonna love this dirty mouth, Henderson."

It was impossible not to notice your cheeks burn redder and Eddie's stomach lurched in his abdomen.

"Don't be gross, Eddie." You were whispering now, words wrapped with a teasing thread.

The moment was closing in, Eddie knew just how to find them when they presented themselves. He shifted closer to the edge of his seat, closer to you.

Your skin was soft where his knuckle came to find the bottom of your chin, tilting you slowly up to look at him with those wide doe eyes that were turning his insides to goo.

His fingers drew you in until your hot breaths mixed in the space between you. "Wouldn't dream of it, princess."

Suddenly his mouth was on yours. He felt your warm gasp against the bow of his lip.

Any chance he had of getting over you was completely shattered, absolutely crushed when the sweet sticky taste of your cherry bomb lipgloss slipped in against his patient tongue.

His forehead pressed against your own and he could feel your tentativeness in how your lips moved slowly over his, taking short glides and waiting for him to extend the hand he'd so readily offered.

It was what he'd promised after all, and if this was the only time he'd get to kiss you in his whole wretched life, he was going to make it the best you'll ever have.

He stayed gentle, his one hand smoothed up your neck until it found solace with its thumb tucked behind your ear and the other warming over your knee - rubbing circles into the side.

Eddie kept it slow, making sure you were okay, and pushing what was left of his dignity to the back of his mind as he realized that the length of the kiss was quickly nearing what would be an appropriate time for a kiss to be in these set of circumstances.

Affording himself one last lick at your bottom lip, desperate to let the taste of cherry linger, he pulled off your lips.

Fortunately, he didn't go far - just far enough off of your face to realize that your eyes were still closed even with him gone, but close enough that your hand could quickly reach up to wrap his guitar pick chain around your index finger. You tugged him back against your lips, allowing a low, sweet whine to fill the space between you.

Eddie was sure he was dreaming. Or dying. Or both.

The force of your tug was enough to pull him off the edge of the barstool, enough to slot himself between your knees and bring you flush against his chest. Your head was thrown almost all the way back to reach Eddie's face as the height difference had him looming over you. Eddie couldn't imagine a sweeter sight than your neck exposed for him and your warmth washing over him like a hot Indiana day.

He almost dipped down to dare a taste at the expanse of neck skin when you hesitantly slipped your tongue across the seam connecting your mouths, and it was Eddie's turn to groan deliriously against you.

The warm metal of his rings dug into your side and your nails were running lines down his scalp as—

A shrill shriek split the air between you, causing you and Eddie to knock foreheads before your wild eyes whipped around the diner - where Eddie had just about forgotten you were - for the source of the disruption.

He lifted his hand up to his then throbbing forehead as his gaze landed on the ringing phone against the wall.

Your eyes were wide, glancing barely at him. "S-Sorry..."

Jumping from the stool, you barely took a moment to untangle your legs from Eddie's - nearly tripping over yourself to grab the phone off the wall.

"The Y-Yellow Piglet speaking," your voice shook. "How can I help?"

It was obvious that you were avoiding meeting his gaze, but still, he made out the deep breaths you were drawing against the mouth of the phone and couldn't help feel a shine of pride that he'd been the reason you were panting against the line.

"N-No, I'm sorry. We closed at seven, but we'll be open by six in the morning."

Eddie suddenly didn't know what to do with his hands, taking to running them up and down the length of his thighs. Even he could feel his chest rising more quickly than normal and almost jumped when the click of the phone back against the wall echoed into the space between them.

You'd hardly hung up the phone, daring only the shortest of glances at Eddie before muttering, "I'm g-gonna go lock the back door and grab my bag, then we can go."

"Okay—"

But you were already gone.

The kitchen door swung back and forth after you, squeaking loudly and Eddie watched it. All of a sudden, it felt like he'd made the wrong move. He'd always told himself that he was holding it together just for Dustin - or maybe purely because of his own cowardice - but Eddie wasn't sure he could deal with you ignoring him and him pretending his feelings don't exist after you'd just given him the best kiss of his whole life.

"Fuck."

The drive home was mostly quiet.

You sat in the passenger seat, as you did most weekday nights, but that night there was none of Dustin's intellectual babble to fill the space despite the fact that there had never been a greater need for it.

Eddie's usual tracks played softly from his speakers and you couldn't help notice how his fingers rapped against the steering wheel to the beat more erratically than usual.

The Henderson house was barely a ten minute drive from the Yellow Piglet and while you usually felt there was never enough time between the two places, enough moments for you to glance across the car to watch how Eddie's rings curled over the gears, it was painfully long to sit in near silence wondering if you made the biggest mistake of your young life.

Eddie offered one simple pity kiss to you and you practically grope him while simultaneously falling in love - rather, falling deeper in love than you already were - and digging the hole wide enough that you knew you'd never be able to climb out now.

The old red van grumbled to a stop at the end of your driveway and you clutched your purse closer to your chest, Eddie's eyes on the still road ahead.

"I—" you weren't sure whether you'd even be able to speak without choking, "Thanks for the lift, Eddie. I'll see you tomorrow—"

"Was it good at least?"

Your hand froze where it was positioned over the door handle, ready to leap out, run upstairs and cry into your pillow.

You didn't need to ask what he was referring to. He glanced back at you and for the first time you found something besides surety in those wide brown eyes.

Your mind bounced between possible replies, obviously taking long enough that Eddie felt the need to interject.

"If it was bad you can say that—" the little chuckle accompanying his words was painfully transparent.

"—I think ..." you opted for the plain white truth, "you've ruined every kiss any man could give me for the rest of my life."

It was harder to break the eye contact now that you'd lain your heart out into his palm. His eyes grew impossibly wider.

A long silence followed, but you couldn't move. Not until he said something, said anything.

"Is it wrong that I want to be the only man you kiss for the rest of your life?"

He swallowed hard, it was loud enough that you giggled softly at it. At him. At his confession. You were leaning forward before you could allow your words to mess anything more up.

The kiss was slow and warm and you took him in with all your senses, every nerve in your body buzzing in happiness - your tongue lapping at the raspberry remnants on his lips. He hummed quietly.

"You're getting unfairly good at this." His voice was muffled against your mouth but you could feel his grin.

"I've had a good teacher." You kissed him again before pulling slowly off him again, the car still rumbling beneath you.

Those long black eyelashes blinked down at you, his face turning almost serious again.

"I don't think I can wake up tomorrow morning and go back to pretending like I'm not falling for you."

You reached for a handful of the famous Eddie Munson mane and let it run through your fingers. "Please don't do that." You whispered.

He nodded, "Then you'll let me take you out tomorrow before your shift?"

Your smile was so tight, the reach in your cheeks were cramping. "Only if you promise that I'm the last girl you'll kiss until then."

"Princess, you're gonna be the last girl I'll kiss until I'm six feet under."

[byunpum]

The new member | Part 3

Pair: Miles Quaritch (baby blue boii) x Human reader

tw: Recom squad, fluff, Teasing, Spider being your bestie, jealousy

POV: Y/N is sent from Earth to Pandora to be part of a particular group of people…

p.s. This story is created after the ship altercation. Neteyam never dies, the sullys are able to run away, but spider decides to go with his "father" to the base. All recoms are still alive.

AVATAR MASTERLIST | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Yes, you were dumb…very very dumb. You had told your team leader that he was 'cute', what were you going to say when you saw him again. You had to act natural. Everyone says compliments, you could give him a compliment, everyone deserves a compliment, don't they?

You go out for breakfast, you had to be brave. You left the room carefully. Everyone had already gone ahead to go to breakfast. You had hardly walked a bit and the pain in your ankle stopped you. Damn, you had forgotten you had hurt it. You sit down on one of the couches, which by the way were giant couches. Now you had to figure out how you were going to get to the cafeteria area, you weren't going to lie, you were really hungry. To your good luck, the door to the living area opened revealing a worried Miles. "Oh, you're awake already" he speaks, as he lowers his head to step through the door frame. "They're going to have to remodel that door" He laughs at your comment, as he walks over to you. "I don't think that's going to happen. I still don't know how to control this new height" Miles sits down next to you, you see he has a plate. "See, here there breakfast…I imagined you couldn't walk 20 steps. That was a pretty bad bump" He speaks, while giving your thigh a squeeze. You take a deep breath, and adjust yourself more in the seat.

"Thanks for bringing me breakfast, you didn't have to" You say, Miles settles back on the couch, leaning his back against the backrest. He placed his hands on his head, and lifted his hips as he sighed. He was wearing a little T-shirt and cargo pants. He looked great, hell… he wasn't helping much. "You're welcome princess, between partners we have to help each other" he looks at you, while winking at you. He was a fucking flirt. You change your look and take the plate from the table. "Yes, take care of us" you speak, looking at your food. "Take care of us…" Miles repeats, but this time with a more low tone. There is silence, until you feel him looking at you. You swallow hard, and try to ignore him. "Hey… is that oxygen mask comfortable?" you try to change the conversation. "This thing? I'd say yes, I only wear it when I need it" Miles knows you're trying to deflect the conversation. The man could already smell you, his new avatar body had gifted him that ability. And the arousal between your legs was not ignored by his senses.

"You still think I'm…pretty," Miles says, causing you to choke on a piece of food. You set your plate down on the table as Miles taps you on the back a few times. "Easy baby, you need to swallow calmly." You look up, and realize that he is now closer to you. Just looking over you. "Sure… why not" you say, shit shit shit you were getting really nervous, your hands were shaking and your legs were involuntarily coming together. Miles steps up boldly and grabs your jaw to make you look at him, his grip was gentle, but firm. "I also think you are very very beautiful" Miles lowers his face to get closer to you. You couldn't move, you were so intent looking into his eyes, they were so beautiful and you swear you could see how they were turning a darker yellow.

You didn't realize it, but his face was inches away from yours, you could feel his breath. His smell was breathtaking and addictive. You felt his other hand settle on the other side of the couch. Wrapping you between him and the couch. You could see how he had a smile on his face, and the grip on his jaw had moved to your neck, as he rubbed his thumb across your collarbones. "You're so small…look how my hand can catch your whole neck" he speaks, as you let out a sigh that sounds more like a moan. He laughs softly. "You like that, don't you? "You like being taken care of…" His lips are so close, that every word that comes out of his mouth, you feel his lips moving on yours. You slowly move closer until your lips meet his. The kiss was slow, but passionate. His hand moved higher up on your head, pulling you closer to him. Your hands move to the sides of his face, wrapping him closer to you. Between kisses, and moans Miles grabs your legs and pulls them up onto the couch, to lay you down on it. Instinctively you spread your legs so he could get on top of you.

Miles was still kissing you, running one of his hands down the back of your thigh and up to his waist. " Ouch…" you moan pulling away from his lips. "I'm sorry…I didn't mean to" he is agitated, you could see his tail wagging from side to side. And his ears were pinned back. "Yeah, you're so cute" you say as you laugh and kiss him again.

"I feel bad for that girl," says lyle, as he walks with z-dog and Mansk to the rooms. They had to get ready for the day, they had to do a check up in the labs. The colonel had gone ahead to bring you some food. Everyone was supposed to meet in the rooms. "Well, I don't like her," says z-dog. "Why… she's adorable," jokes Mansk, as he taps lyle. "That's why, she looks so fragile. Besides… who goes with the monkey boy and decides that a jungle is perfect to play in" the woman looks at the two men, they look at her and laugh at her. "I wonder if anyone here… likes Colonel Quaritch," says Manks, looking at his teammates.

"Well… yeah. Yes I like it" Lyle speaks, causing Mansk to start laughing out loud. Lyle was already out of breath from laughing, leaning on his partner's shoulder. " Z-dog… since that girl came in, you've been on the defensive," lyle says. "Are they saying I like the colonel?" she complains, looking at the two men, who raise their shoulders. "I can't believe what they're saying… of course not. He is the colonel" she says as she keeps walking.

Lyle and manks stay further behind. " Yes, she does," says Lyle. "Who doesn't?" says Manks, joking with Lyle. They were already at the door of the rooms. Z-dog was fed up with these two idiots behind her, they are laughing and making jokes. She opens the door and her mouth drops open at the scene she is seeing.

You were on the couch, Miles was on top of you, shirt off and kissing your belly as he slid down your legs. Your pants were somewhere in the living room, and you were only in your panties and your shirt up which Miles was holding in his hands. Your fingers were pushing his head to the area where you needed it most, while your legs went up to his shoulders.

The three soldiers stood there like mummies. "Colonel?" says z-dog, still surprised. Miles looked up and saw his buddies standing there looking at them. You stand up quickly, pulling your shirt down with your hands. Miles sat down more calmly, trying to find his shirt. "Guys… you're early," Miles says, pulling his shirt over his head. You're adjusting your hair. "Wow…and that's when she broke her ankle," says z-dog, you could see the annoyance on his face. Lyle and mansk had a goofy grin plastered on their faces. "My ankle isn't broken, it's hurt," you say, looking at the woman. Lyle noticed the tension that had formed. Of course, this wasn't a very comfortable situation to say the least, so he was going to open his mouth.

"Wow…today's breakfasts are very very nutritious" says lyle with a stupid grin. Manks tries to stifle his grin. You get up "I'm going to get ready, excuse me" you get up quickly. "Y/N don't…" Miles tries to stop you. Z-dog goes to her room, she looked upset, but she knew how to hide her feelings. Miles put his head down between his legs. "Colonel!!!" Lyle sits down next to him. "What happened to you? Here on the couch!?" lyle pushes him a little, causing Quaritch's tail to smack him. "hey….we have to learn to control these things" lyle says as he holds Quaritch's tail.

"Lyle…. Stop messing around" this one settles back on the couch. "Sir, I don't blame you…she is" mansk speaks, making Miles look at him. He was in a very bad mood, one was because he was still frustrated, and on the other hand he knew this was going to be the topic of conversation for quite some time among his team.

"Just get ready…meet me at the lab in zone F963" orders Miles, the men didn't make any comments to their colonel. They knew he was upset, and when he was like that it was best to follow orders. They got up and headed for their quarters. Miles got up, and went to change. He didn't want to go bother you, he knew you were embarrassed, he was going to be sure to apologize to you later.

All the members got ready and were on their way to the lab. They were to assist in some routine tests. General Ardmore was there, supervising that her employees did not reveal too much to the PPA members. To her bad luck, there you were. You were walking around the lab, noting everything you saw. You knew the scientists, doctors were hiding things. While you were working, Quaritch's squadron was guarding a thanator in a room not far from where you were. You approached the room, saw that lyle, Miles and Lopez were looking through the glass. You approach where the men are, Miles notices your presence and looks at you out of the corner of his eye. He wanted to talk to you, but he knew it wasn't the right time. You were next to him, you moved your hand to touch his thigh and tapped it. You look up, and laugh.

There it was, that adorable smile. He looks down quickly and puts his hand on your head. Stroking your hair. Z-dog was watching the whole scene, the woman takes a breath and walks over to you. "Y/N why don't you approach the animal? You're an ambientalist" the woman says, Miles drops his hand to his side and looks casually at z-dog. "I'm here to observe and supervise" you speak up. " And to be the group whore, right" the woman spits. You stay quiet, while the members who were there huddle together. " Z-dog apologize!!!" Miles orders. "Did I say something that isn't true?" the woman is altered. Lyle begins to argue with her. The discussion was interrupted, when the animal roared. Everyone looked at the beast, it was getting up from the anesthesia.

"Excuse me, it's nothing serious," says a scientist. "What are you doing to him?" you ask, this was the perfect moment and the perfect situation to forget the fight of two minutes ago. "It's a blood test" he looks at you and laughs nervously. "Sure…and then I guess they release him back to his habitat" you look at the man, you know they don't. You know they have almost a herd of these animals locked up. "Sure" says the man nervously walking away. "Silly" you look down and start writing. "One question, those notes you make there…are they dangerous to us?" asks manks. "Well…I wouldn't say dangerous. But they can help me get some things out or fix some things around here" you say, as you look at z-dog. The woman laughs a little, while you decide to leave the room.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Miles confronts z-dog. She remains silent and lowers her head. Miles walks away from the group, continuing to cover other areas. "You don't like that girl that much?" asks Lopez. Z-dog settles his gun to his chest. "I hate her."

You had come out of the lab area you were so stressed. And you weren't going to lie, you were scared. That woman was 3 times your size, she would crush you like a grape. You were so busy in your thoughts that you didn't see spider approaching you. "Y/N how are you?" the boy comes up to you and gives you a hug. Spider had become your friend in the last few days. "I have a lot of things to tell you" you shake your head. Spider invites you to go to a place he likes on the base. He hadn't been there long, but he was free to investigate. Besides, you thought he would be a good help for your research. You climbed up a tower, circular stairs, until you reached the top. You had to be careful, you didn't want to hurt your foot.

"Wow, here the view is beautiful!!!" you say, you start walking up the small rooftop. "I know, I discovered it recently" You sit down next to him. "Why were you there in the hallway… you looked a bit distracted?" asks spider. You tell spider everything, the guy didn't know much about the terms you were using like 'whore', but he could understand how you felt. Spider gave you a hug, and you hug him back. You and spider stayed there until late at night, you didn't have to do much today, you had already finished all your tags, so when you noticed that it was already late at night, you both went to your rooms.

As you were walking down the hallway, you bumped into the recoms team. Miles saw how you were playing and joking around with spider. He couldn't help but feel jealous, you looked so comfortable with spider. "This just further confirms my theory," says z-dog as she enters the living room. Lyle places a hand on Quaritch's shoulder, shaking him a little. "Hey, you're not jealous?" he jokes. Quaritch gives him a dirty look and looks back at you. You say goodbye to spider, and start walking toward the dorms. You met Miles' gaze, he was serious. You analyzed his behavior as you approached him, he had his tail down and was wagging it slowly, and his ears are up. He looked defensive. When you got to the door, you stopped for a moment. "Didn't you go to dinner?" says Miles, his take was serious. " Ah yes, I stayed all afternoon with spider. I'm not hungry" You try not to make eye contact with him. You continue walking to your room, and close the door. You knew that all the team members were watching you as you walked to your room.

They all took one look at each other and headed to their rooms. You didn't know what had happened today, the day had been strange, not to mention news you had received from your boss. He had commented to you, that he felt that the RDA was 'hiding' information, and that they were making up false scenarios, so that we would not accuse them. You had a broken ankle, you had to investigate further and he had told you whore. What else could happen.

It was early morning, about 2:00 am. You couldn't sleep, you were tossing and turning. And apparently someone was just like you, Miles couldn't sleep, he had to talk to you, to know how you were doing. The man got up and went to knock on your door. You heard the knocking, and opened the door. There he was, he had no shirt on, he had on sweat pants and you could see how the little dots on his skin were glowing.

"Hi" he speaks in a low tone. "Hi" you laugh shyly, he was already kneeling on one foot, to be at your level. "I want to…apologize for what z-dog said to you" he speaks, as he runs a hand through your hair arranging some strands of hair that fell to the side of your face. "Don't worry about it" you say, leaning a little into his touch. "No, I'm really sorry…she can be very tough" Miles puts his hand on your face, you take his hand and hug it tighter. "Can't sleep?" you ask him. "How do you know…" he lets out a small laugh, lowering his gaze. "Do you want to come in?" Miles looks up and looks at you in surprise. He nods and you take his hand, dragging him into your room. "What are you going to do with me?" asks Miles playfully, you just laugh and squeeze his hand tighter.

On the other side of the large complex, z-dog had gone out for a moment to get something she left on one of the tables, and saw the whole scene. She watched as Miles entered your room and closed it. She could see the little smile on both of your faces. She cursed the perfect night view she now had, swallowed hard and headed for her room.

P.s: Sorry for uploading this so late. I've had a lot of work this week, but I'm going to update some of my writing this weekend. Still, I hope you like this part a lot.

The "I know I can change him" squad: @mechformers @cullenswife @littlethief78 @nieshiren @parasiiite @bxnnywriting @shelbythequeen @sassvy-blog-blog @shaylang21 @perfectgradient99 @jinx14 @elvyshiarieko @littlethingsinlife @ilovedoms @the-hufflebird-girl @ronia-entries @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @mechformers @perfectgradient99 @mad-simp420 @quaritchlvr @kittycow8875 @mjnij

If there is any problem with the tags, let me know. I have had many people asking me to be on the tag list, if you are not on the list yet you can send me a message.

[magemultifics]

Domestic Fluff Samus HCs

Honestly, Samus struggles with normal ways of domesticity.

Most of the food she has is hunted alien or Galactic Federation MRE's

But expect her to knock on the ship's main door and open it with a hunted alien over her shoulders.

Samus is very proud about it and will cook it as a show that she is the mate for you.

Is always up earlier than you, she will cook breakfast or go kill some alien game and bring it home as stated earlier.

Very avid cuddler. Her metroid DNA makes so she doesn't like the cold, so when out of the version of the suit she's wearing, She find a way to maintain skin contact or any form of touch.

Metroids by nature and especially Samus now (as she is the last metroid) are protective of their species and those they'd hold value to (The baby metroid protected and gave it's like for Samus whom it valued)

This in essence means Samus is the big spoon, no ands, buts or ifs about it. She curls around you protectively and tucks her chin in the crook of your neck, arms wrapping around your waist firmly.

If you're in bed in this position, if you need something Samus will lift you with her, and carry you like a forward facing backpack.

If it's super cold in her ship, Samus will wrap you like a burrito in one of her blankets and set you on the counter as she makes hot coco.

When very content, Samus does emit a very low chirp in the back of her throat, a side effect of the metroid DNA.

Pretty good story teller if she's in the mood to talk (which really isn't often) she likes to tell of her childhood with the Chozo the best as those were her happiest memories.

If you ask nicely, yes she will speak some phrases in Chozo, you may not understand it, but damn if it doesn't make her even more hot I stg.

If she's piloting, Samus has a tendency to get lost in relatively intrusive thoughts, so she likes to have you in her lap as she pilots the space craft

Will point out some cool planets and along with having ADAM give her the facts.

Subconsciously, runs her hands through your hair as a stress reliever for both you and her. Hair ruffles? Hair ruffles.

A/N: I have SO many ideas for domestic Samus DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED BRUH. Here are some samus crumbs.

IF Y'ALL WANT MORE SAMUS/METROID CONTENT JUST THROW SUGGESTIONS IN MY INBOX AND MAYBE ILL GET SOME IDEAS!

[angelgoeslewd]

Angel, hello, as you may have noticed I'm a slit for Wren and Landry so if i could request something with Wren Landry and Mickey like maybe a mission that requires the three of them or just play cards or maybe both like playing cards will talking about a mission, sorry if it's too loose just tell me and I'll try to add to it, thank you!

I was FEELING this one!!! the new dol update has me thirstin for Landry + Wren hardcore (and Whitney….. and Kylar…. but SHUSH.)

Wasn’t sure if you wanted this to be lewd or not so made it suggestive but open for more endings ;3 still an 18+ rating because of the game itself tho

enjoy!

⚠️ warnings: 18+ content, minors DNI!, the use of the c-slur, lots of suggestive flirting, open ending, GN!Reader, lots of swearing

🌟 this work is being REWRITTEN! check back for the completion check ✅ and a new story with extra content!

ever since the new laws came into effect, your petty thievery seemed to have less and less… appeal.

your repeat offenses from before had your fingers too quick for any cops to actually gather hard evidence against you. there was nothing like the threat of being caught. would they put you in the stocks? would they punish you off the table? even their degradations did something to you that you couldn’t explain. the risk was high, even if the prize was mediocre. but Quinn was cracking down on the corrupt officials and honestly? it bored the hell out of you.

no longer was there a risk of any… hard justice. what little morals you had prevented you from diving too far into a life of true hard crime and the small acts of terror you did manage no longer paid off in terms of satisfaction. even messing with Whitney seemed more appealing than any small acts of crime around town now.

so here you sat, utterly bored out of your mind and tipsy off your ass (you might even be drunk out of sheer spite of Quinn himself, but you’d never admit that to anyone), the only patron allowed into the pub this early into the day. your sharp wit and constant theft had made you good friends with Landry, enough so that he rewarded you with access to the pub even when it was technically closed. sometimes it felt like he was the only man you felt really understood you.

(Robin was too innocent, Kylar idolized you too much, Whitney’s retribution had a weird tinge of softness now, and Sydney nagged too much about how you needed to change your character- too much too much toomuch.)

of course, even Landry’s understanding of you and what you desired was only an arm’s length, only reached so far under the surface that it was impossible to tell what you really wanted.

and that was your need. that never ending desire. the heat that pooled low in your stomach when you lifted something. endorphins swirling. how shaky your hands felt when they rushed through you, despite knowing your fingers were as calm and still as always.

you wished to be caught.

you wished to held against your will as you struggled and punished.

you wanted to see how his eyes somehow managed to sparkle and darken with absolute delight at your newest prize. you wished to be rewarded.

but… how could you even bring that up? the man was almost a decade older than you, if only that. how could he ever get that dark part of you? to see you in that sort of light, when you were eternally shrouded the dark cloud that loomed over this town.

it was why you were even here, at his place of business. bitterly loitering around for some sort of thrill. a cat, pacing endlessly at the rat’s nest, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

but Landry was no rat, however. and you were more of a lap cat playing tiger. you know this.

your face soured at the thought. ridiculous. your need was going too far this time, maybe due to the fact you no longer had any outlet. and with that, you raised your finger for another shot — whiskey to damper the dullness of what your every day life had become thanks to fucking Quinn and his idealistic political agenda.

“Hey, kid.”

You heard Landry’s call, and despite the little worm in your brain aching to ignore it, you raised your messy head from the bar’s countertop and stared at him in response. his hazel eyes looked concerned as he ran them over your face, most likely catching on the dark circles under your eyes; it was nothing more than a slight wrinkle of the forehead to indicate such, but you knew him well enough at this point to know his tells. he was worried. “Don’t ya think that’s enough? I mean… it’s still so early.”

your brow raised at the man, a scoff erupting from your throat. you pointedly ran your own eyes over him. typical bartender, thinking they knew what ails you, polishing a pint glass, but you knew what those rough hands were capable of. you had seen what passed through them and goddamn, you were fucking jealous of those musty old jewels. “You’re complaining about me spending money…? At your place of business? Who are you and what have you done with Landry, ‘he who doesn’t ask questions’?”

despite his concern, he barks a laugh, his face relaxing at your humor. Landry sets down the glass behind the counter and picks up another. “No,” he states, very simply, quickly turning the wet crystal in his toweled hand. “I’m complaining about your appearance.”

“Not fit to be seen in your be- bar?” you hiccup, hoping your inebriation hides the slip of your tongue.

“Not in the slightest.” His eyes flicker back up to you, taking in your state once again. “You just seem… off, yeah?”

You don’t really know what to say to him then; like him, everything with you costs a price. You both stare at each other for a moment, silent.

It’s a challenge.

It’s a game.

It’s the most thrilling experience you’ve had all day.

and you hate it. emotionally held hostage by the man you want have a clean slate with. but without payment, you weren’t budging. Bailey had at least taught you that resolve.

so like any brat would do, you spit back, “I asked for fucking whiskey.”

Landry rolls his eyes.

you once again find yourself in an empty bar, late this time, after everyone has been kicked out by the owner himself. everyone except for you. it’s almost like deja vu. your head slumped against the counter, Landry washes glasses yet again (how boring being a bartender must be, you think, no wonder he’s gotta get his rocks off with fencing.)

“Bailey’s gonna be worried.”

your head shoots up this time, a look of incredulous disbelief smeared across your features. “Bailey?” you ask, huffing a laugh. “Please. The man could not give less of a shit about any of us.”

Landry himself seems as calm as ever, not even bothering to look your way. but you don’t base anything off of that. you yourself do it all the time.

he shrugs, “He’s called a couple times, looking for ya.”

“He’s making sure I’m not dead in a ditch somewhere so he can properly balance his ledger,” you say bluntly, picking up your glass and taking a swig. your voice is raspy when you begin again, “Besides, if he cares so much, he can come look for me himself.”

“Don’t say that.”

you’ve looked away from Landry when you feel it. the tension that lines the air. the shift of the mood to something dark and heavy. it’s so sudden that you turn your head back to him; the water is running, but his hands are still in the sink as he gazes down into it. “I don’t like you thinking like that,” he says softly. you blink a couple of times, wondering where the hell this is coming from, open your mouth to reply, but you don’t get anything out before he starts again, “Look, something’s the matter with ya, and if you don’t want to tell me, fine. But that’s no reason to do- this-!” he gestures at you, haphazardly. “It bothers me seeing ya like this. You used come in here with a spring in your step and pawn off whatever goodies you’ve gotten those pretty little hands on, throw a few punches, then disappear like you got somewhere to be. So what’s going on? Boyfriend dump ya? School stressing you out? Fuckin’- get it off your chest or something, stop acting like a wet cat and-”

“I thought you didn’t want me to tell you. Thought you didn’t care.” The smirk on your face is there to piss him off. If one of your skills was spitting back at any blessings thrown at you, you’d be a master at it. And it works. Landry looks downright offended at you when-

when he laugh? he’s laughing. at you. your smirk turns into a pout.

“‘m sorry, doll,” he manages, “I didn’t- I’m not laughing at you- I- I just love that about ya. Always trust ya to be a little brat.”

“Yeah… well.” Landry continues to bubble with laughter, wiping away fake tears from his eyes.

“And- and as a side note, never said I didn’t care- just knew I had to push you a bit to find out more.”

“You are such a fucking asshole.”

“No wonder we work so well together, huh?” he says, a toothy smile growing wider by the second, “The cunt and the asshole. A perfect system.” Landry turns off the water, drying his hands and making his way to stand in front of you. there’s so much about this conversation you don’t want to dissect. an uncomfortable feeling of standing on ground that you don’t know will hold. why is he doing this to you? playing with your goddamn emotions, like he knows. he can’t fucking know, you’re sure of it. there’s no possible way. but the way he’s looking at you now. proud. that look in his eyes the same you saw when you got your hands on that microchip, but now he’s looking at you.

isn’t this what you wanted?

you don’t know.

“So… you gonna tell me? Or do I gotta buy you another drink?”

“You own the place. That doesn’t count.”

“You askin’ me out?”

you choke on your drink. fucker.

“Hey.”

you stare at your phone. after last time, you expected things to go back to being a little more normal between you and Landry. he got what he wanted. finally able to pull out your disillusion with life. yeah, you knew he could feel you were hiding more than you let on, but he didn’t push any farther than that, nodding while you spoke, letting you vent your grievances with Quinn and his stupid fucking town. it was kinda nice, to get it off your chest. but you were positive nothing would come about it. Landry was just a friend, you reminded yourself. a good friend.

“Who the hell said you could call me on this phone?”

Always up to your level, a crackling laugh came through the speaker. “I did,” he said. “Now listen- I think I got a way to cure that little bug of yours.”

You were intrigued. “Uh huh.”

“Come by the bar tomorrow. 8am. You were probably already plannin’ to but I want you there sharp, ‘kay?”

you showed up at 8:15.

“There they are!” Landry’s voice seem to echo across the bartop, booming through the empty pub as if through a speaker. He stood to greet you, with arms open as if expecting a hug. You begrudgingly gave him one.

“Why am I here.”

“Aren’t you usually?” it’s a unfamiliar, bored tone that has you looking over Landry’s shoulder, landing on a thin boy, who looks not much older than you, black roots that melting into wild electric blue hair, choppy and chin length. he’s wearing a black and grey hoodie, slumped back in a bar chair, thin fingers clasped around an equally blue drink. he looks at you, expressionless, and his eyes surprise you. they’re bright yellow. cat-like and gleaming. those lithe fingers raise the glass to his lips, sipping it, and coughing just as quickly. “Fuck- Landry! I fucking hate this shit, you know that!”

“Hey now,” comes the smooth purr of a unrecognizable voice. the owner was a man who’s face was obscured by a dark cowboy hat, tipped just so that his eyes were hidden from your gaze, he was draped over the chair, like a sweater that had been forgotten and sat casually enough to feel like such, easily blending in to his surroundings despite the bar being empty. he held a highball glass filled with golden liquid, swirling it around, making the metal accents of his outfit clink with every arm movement. “You be nice. Ol’ Landry’s already putting out with these free drinks, the promise of a fair game, and…” His hat suddenly lifted, his eyes piercing as he finally met your own. You felt very naked as they trailed down your body. “—some very nice company.”

You immediately turn to your hospitable host, whose arm is slung over your shoulder and hiss, “What the hell is this-!”

He just smiles, a bit apologetically, his eyes shifted away from you as he answers. Not a wonderful sign. “Just a… little get together. Some old friends-” A scoff erupted from the blue-haired boy, who still sipped on that god-awful colored drink.

“We’re gambling, darl’,” the cowboy stated, gesturing loosely at a stack of chips on the table.

Your eyebrows knitted as you blinked, mouth parted, but for once in your bratty life, you felt… speechless. The bar owner’s arm is slightly tensing and relaxing around your neck and that’s when you realize —

That’s when you turn to him, letting his arm drop between you two, and lower your eyes to the floor shyly —

Your voice, a whisper, to ensure the other two don’t hear, because you’re sure Landry wouldn’t like them catching onto this —

“You did this… for me…?”

Landry won’t look at you, his own gaze fixed onto the table as the cowboy reaches for the blue drink and the smaller man smacks his hand away. But his head gives a small tilt downwards, before it just as quickly tilts back up.

You don’t know what to say. He doesn’t either, judging by the way he sets and unsets his jaw.

“Come onnn,” The smaller one says, “Are you guys done whispering over there?” He fixes on you, “Done having daddy issues? Ready to get your ass kicked?”

The effect is immediate. “Yeah fucking right,” you bite back, moving to take the seat next to him. “You’re going to regret saying that when I bust your bank-!”

“I think he would rather you bust something else of his-”

“Shut the absolute HELL up, Wren! Like you weren’t undressing them 2 fucking seconds ago!”

Landry figures he should start the game before Mickey starts throwing stuff at Wren…

Again.

(But you fit in so perfectly. You look so at peace, content with this thrill of adrenaline that he really couldn’t ask for much more. Even if it costs him another set of glassware.)