#broadside x reader

[littlemissmanga]

Maybe Among the Stars

Pairing: Broadside x (gn)Reader

W/C: 2,737

Summary: Broadside was literally built to withstand risk and danger. He’s willing to take the chance this will all end badly. But that was back when the only one at risk was him. How can he face that same danger knowing it’ll roll over onto you now?

Warnings: Angst/comfort, the realities of loving a soldier, slight nod to intimacy but think like PG-13 rating. Lots of longing, but it's got a happy ending.

A/N: Goodness, I had this drafted out so long ago but real life and brain pain made this take forever. I’m terribly sorry @sunshinesdaydream for the slight delay, but here is your Broadside fic for the @rare-clone-fic-exchange! I had a lot of fun researching Broadside, Shadow Squadron, their planes and getting to dive into a starfighter’s mentality. I hope you like what I did with his personality since there isn’t too much in canon to go off of, other than his limited screen time showed me a very confident man. And what’s better than a fic about a man in crisis with himself?

Also, submitting this as an entrance for my @clonexreaderbingo card, the “Hope” square. 😊

Inspiration song, The Word of My Body from Spring Awakening: “Oh, I’m gonna bruise you. Oh, you’re gonna be my bruise.”

dividers by @saradika

It wasn’t fair. To either of you, but he understood the risk and was willing to face it. He knew what could come next and didn’t care if it meant one more chance.

But you …

You put up a great front. It took him too many rotations to see the softness under your steel. Weeks of finding reasons to fuel up at the café you worked at before he was shipped off just to tease you and get under your skin. It was a challenge that gave him a little lightness to his step before he and his brothers were back in the heat of battle, the memory of a cheeky smile on pretty lips settling his battle-tossed nerves.

Eventually, the face behind the smile was the thought that gave him comfort. But he’d never say it. He could keep you at an arm’s length and still get his fix as long as he didn’t cross that line.

And you never backed down from this game you couldn’t have known you were playing, giving as good as you got but never with cruelty. Your responses had even gotten downright flirtatious recently, a taste of normal that he couldn’t resist.

Until the last time.

Right after the Battle of Coruscant. Broadside had been flying high even with his feet solidly on the ground. Shadow Squadron had taken impressively minimal damage as each trooper flew beside General Skywalker bravely and proved integral to the safe retrieval of the Chancellor.

He’d opened the door to your café with a swagger that would make even his General blush, ready to leverage his status as planetary savior for a free slice of meilroon pie.

But instead of the sweetness he was expecting, the salt of your tears was all he could taste for hours after. The relief couldn’t erase the deep worry lines on your face at the sight of him, and while Broadside wasn’t above imagining what you’d feel like in his arms, the reality of your half-choked sobs racking your form as it melded to his when you pushed into him and held him like he would float away weighed on his heart.

“They were showing the dogfights over the holonet. I saw … there were so many … I didn’t know if …”

The realization hit him like a proton canon blast: He had become someone important to you. You felt the same way about him as he did you.

And ever since, elation and dread warred within him.

Since the Battle of Coruscant, Shadow Squadron had been requested to handle more escort missions for the Chancellor, meaning more time on Triple Zero.

More time with you.

But proximity to the Chancellor and by extension the Corrie Guard meant no room for deviation from the regs … including the one about not fraternizing with spunky natborns who’d be brought to tears at the thought of a trooper in danger.

A specific trooper. Him.

A gorgeous soul who kept him on his toes, challenging every truth he thought he knew. Who’d started saving a serving of his favorite meals when they were on special without knowing if he’d be coming in that day. Who’d throw an extra serving in for a customer going through a bad day but feigned ignorance when questioned. Who fought off the thugs and lowlifes that’d crawl in from the lower levels with a broken broom without an ounce of fear but shattered at the sight of his Squadron in danger overhead.

He was going to hurt you.

Maybe, just a little, he understood why the Jedi didn’t allow attachments. Because more and more, Broadside could feel the craving to see you again rise and overshadow the knowledge of just how thoroughly he’ll ruin you.

***

“Is this where you’re gonna murder me?”

Broadside threw an exasperated look over his shoulder. “Why would I drag you all the way here just to murder you?”

You cocked an eyebrow as your head swiveled to take in the narrow, at to be fair rather dingy, ally he was leading you through. “To throw the cops of your trail, duh. It’s like you don’t even listen to those crime holos I send you.”

He heard the smile in your voice and felt its match stretch on his own lips at your macabre humor.

“Those are all full of fluff anyway. It’s all nonsense.”

“No, they’re-”

“Shush.” He turned back and continued leading you on. “We’re almost there.”

“Would be great to know where ‘there’ is. Or what’s gonna happen there.”

Despite your grumbling, Broadside could feel your grip tighten around his hand. All at once, your simple show of trust filled his chest and brought him to his knees.

He didn’t deserve it. But he hoped he’d earn it.

Reaching a nondescript door ­— one of many to line the ally — Broadside stopped in the entranceway, pulling you over to face him.

“You already know the answer, mesh’la. You came up with this idea.”

Confusion covered your face with an aching cuteness. He could see the wheels turning inside, your eyes giving everything away as you searched for an answer.

“Closing time ... I was helping you sweep ... You asked what civvie experience I wanted to have …”

Your eyes sharpened in a playful glare. ���And you said, ‘working in a diner’ just to be an ass.”

He leaned in close, towering over you and invading your space just to rile you more. He couldn’t help it. Broadside was addicted to that spark and needed it, needed you, like a hit of spice. “Not just to be an ass. But that’s not the important part. What came next?”

“You … You asked me what I’d want to do …”

Your eyes were wide as moons when you looked back up at him, disbelief filling every inch of your expression. “No …”

“Yup.” He confirmed, entering the access code and opening the door to reveal the back entrance to the hanger where Shadow Squadrons brand-new Y-wings were lined up all nice and pretty.

This time, he didn’t take your hand. Broadside strode through the hanger like he owned it, confidence grounding every step and growing at the sound of your quick footsteps franticly trying to keep up with his.

“Broadside!” You hissed quietly, earning a rich laugh at your idea of stealth. “This can’t be allowed. We’re gonna get caught!”

He stopped next to his new ship, ladder at its side at the ready. “You know, I’m actually insulted. You think I haven’t thought this through.” Turning, Broadside gestures broadly at the hanger. “See? No one around. Maintenance has been reassigned and my squad is grounded right now.”

Your eyes followed his across the cavernous room and you nodded in agreement. But your lip was still caught between your teeth, a telltale sign.

Letting the levity slip away, Broadside brought his hands up to cup your face and pull your gaze to his. Once again, he invaded your space but this time, all teasing was gone. “No one will know we’re here. I’ve got you.”

You gave him that look again. The same one as that day, the one that screamed to him just how unsure you really were underneath all your strength and bluster. The one that broke his heart with how much he wanted to erase it from your face. The same one that told him, just maybe, that you knew how tenuous this all really was.

And then you stepped closer.  

You turned to reach for the ladder, stopping to look at him one more time. He gave you an affirmative nod, fighting every cell that cried out to shatter in relief. Maybe this would go better for you both than he thought.

Following closely, he climbed up the ladder after you, settling behind you in the cockpit.

It was a tight fit, only being designed for one person at a time. Broadside struggled for a moment, trying to get his legs to fit around yours in the narrow space until you took matters into your own hands. A touch was all it took to get him to sit still, your hand holding down firmly on his thigh.

The look you sent him over your shoulder is so soft, Broadside wanted to preserve it somehow. To freeze time so you’d always look at him just like that. To make a galaxy where you’d have no reason to ever look at him any other way.

“May I?” Your voice was steady, but barely a whisper.

“Yeah,” he rasped back.

Lifting yourself up, you moved your legs to straddle his before resting yourself on his lap.

“Sorry, but I think this may be the most comfortable configuration.”

Broadside reached around you to start the operating procedures, reveling in the feel of you so close. It was a mockery of an embrace, but it was enough for now.

“No need to apologize, angel. We’re all good here.”

Once all systems were engaged and optimized, he pressed his comm. “Shadow One to Tower. All systems go, here. Ready for clearance.”

You spun in your seat to level him with an intense glare. “No one will know we’re here?”

And Broadside couldn’t resist stoking your fire, sticking out his tongue like a cadet just to revel in how riled you got. “No one who will say anything. Corkscrew is on tower watch tonight and he owes me a favor or three.”

“Tower to Shadow One. Request for test flight confirmed. You are clear for launch. You have 30 minutes.”

“See? Just a standard test flight for the new fighters,” he said smugly.

With that, Broadside went through the launch procedure without a second thought, focusing instead on every way you shifted on his lap, how your hands fumbled for purchase on the sides of the ship before gripping hard on his knees. His hand curled around your hip, holding you in place for all the good it did. The turbulence had you shaking against him and by the Maker if that friction wasn’t the most sensational thing in the entire galaxy.

But everything settled when they broke the atmosphere, the stillness and quiet covering them and isolating them from the chaos of the city planet below.

He watched with delight as your head moved on a swivel, turning back and forth to take in the vast array of stars in front of you.

“It’s beautiful,” you breathed.

“Yeah, it is.” Broadside’s response was just as quiet as he took in your awe before adding louder, “But we didn’t come up here just to look at it.”

“No?”

Before you could do anything else, he grabbed your hands. Without asking, he brought them to the steering column, molding his over yours.  “No. You’re gonna fly.”

He could see the broad, devious grin overtake your face in the reflection of the transparisteel and for the briefest moment, Broadside second-guessed whether this was a good idea.

Worry quickly gave way as he lost himself fully in the joy you exuded. Playful cheers filled the small Y-wing cockpit as he instructed you through a few of his simpler maneuvers. Eventually, he began taking a bit more control, showing off with several rolls and drops all in hopes of earning just one more delightful shout, one more squeeze of your thighs around his. All while his hand kept you in place on his lap.

Leveling out after his latest round of showing off, you leaned back against him fully, losing all tension in your body to rest soundly against his chest.

“So, what brought this on?”

His pause is palpable, creating a stillness that could rival space itself. He knew it would happen eventually. But he hated that it could ruin everything.

“I … I don’t know when I’ll be able to visit you next.”

His eyes were trained onto every inch of your body, so he saw the moment your shoulders tensed.

“I see. Even though I know Shadow Squadron has been assigned to escort the Chancellor from now on.”

Broadside took a breath, preparing for his practiced spiel, but you wouldn’t give him the chance. “Oh, yes. Don’t think I don’t follow the news. I do. Of course I do, because how else would I know where you were, what you were doing, if you were okay. You don’t tell me these things when you visit. I have to piece together rumors and suspicions. So I know you’ll be around more. But sure, tell me the lie. Tell me you won’t be able to see me. I’ve been dumb enough flirt with you. To start feeling …”

Your voice tapered off. He couldn’t see your reflection anymore, your face cast downward, but he could see how tightly you were holding yourself.

“Maybe I’ll be dumb enough to believe the lie,” you whispered.

He reached forward, snaking his other arm around to encircle your waist and pull you impossibly closer. Like a child clutching a soft toy, he curled around you in the cocoon of the cockpit.

It must have hurt. His armor was hard and unyielding. He could imagine all the ways it dug in to your pliant skin, how your curves arched around its firm plains.

Even his embrace was painful to you.

And yet you didn’t fight. You didn’t pull away or even adjust yourself. No, you pushed yourself closer, folding yourself in to fit into him like a missing piece.

“It’s not a lie,” he whispered, hoping for all the galaxy that you heard his promise. “It’s not safe.”

“For who?”

“For both of us.”

The silence lingered, and he knew you understood. If you really had been following the war, if you’ve been slicing through the holonet for information, then you had known the truth of his words for a while.

Shifting your hips, you turned in his hold, folding your legs under you to sit sideways on his lap. You didn’t look at him, though. Instead, you tucked your head under his chin, staying as close as possible. “Is that why you brought me up here? Show me the stars so I have something pretty to look at when you tell me it’s over?”

His grip tightened. “No.”

“Then why?”

He brought his hand up to cup the back of your head. He needed you as close as possible. “Because I can’t say it’s over. I want to. But I can’t. I will knowingly put you in danger just to see you again, to hear you again.”

He pressed his lips to the crown of your head. His first kiss has the aftertaste of salt and bitterness, but he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

“Bringing you to see the stars like you always wanted is the least I can do. I’ll give you anything within my power ’cause I’m taking so much more.”

You wriggled in his grasp, pulling away just enough to look him in the eye. Your cheeks were stained with tears he didn’t even hear begin to fall. Instinctively, he brought his thumb to swipe it away, but your hand stopped him.

“You’re not taking anything, dumbass. I’m giving it willingly.”

Broadside’s eyes close as relief surged through his body. He relaxed even more at the feel of your forehead pressed against his.

“I don’t care about the danger. And take as much time as you need to make things as safe as possible. But you’re not the only one who can’t call quits, so don’t act like you’re carrying the burden alone.”

He couldn’t help the smile that spread easy as sin across his lips at your declaration. Knowing that you were as far gone as he was. Now that he had your knowing consent, that you could handle all that came with being together, there was nothing holding him back.

“So, I don’t have to plan such extravagant dates?”

You let out a peel of laughter in response, your delight breaking the last remnant of grief. “Oh, you absolutely have to try and top this next time. I’ll accept nothing less.”

Fueled by hope and the fire of his wanting, Broadside pressed his lips to yours, tasting starlight and a hint of the blumfruit juice you had earlier.

“I’ve created a monster,” he murmured into the kiss.

“Indeed, you have.”

Your smile against his lips is all the reassurance he needed to not care.

You can find the rest of my fics on my Masterlist here. And you can sign up for my taglist to be alerted to any new fics here.

[tori111777]

FRIGHT AND FURY 7

Part 6, Part 8

Summary: Death and Lust have a meeting with conflict

Warnings: Violence, Mentions of loss, Spoilers

Parings: Caracalla x wife!reader

As you walked through the shadowed corridors of the Colosseum, the weight of your past pressed heavily against you. It was the same grand structure, but everything felt different now. The air, thick with the scent of dust and blood, seemed to hold the echoes of your choices—the choices you had made, the betrayals you had committed. The empire was now your home and Caracalla, your husband.

You glanced at the stands, where the dust from the crowd seemed to hang in the air, like the weight of your own guilt. The bloodshed in the arena had always been a spectacle for the people, but now it felt like a reflection of your soul—messy, violent, and far too far gone to repair.

You didn’t dare to look next to you as Lucilla was sitting in a chair. Cuffed in chains, pleading to let her husband live and be let out of the arena. The chains clinked with each movement, a constant reminder of her fall from grace.

You had once called her a mother of sorts, someone who had guided you, shown you the ropes of this brutal court. Now, you had traded that affection for a place at Caracalla’s side. The one you to whom love.

“For his treason against the lives of the Emperors and the Roman state… An enemy of the people.” The master of Ceremonies called out, signaling the start of the game today.

You saw the gladiator, Lucius step out into the sun bleached sand, the crowed loved him. His towering figure cast a long shadow across the arena as he stood tall, his broad chest rising and falling with each breath. He did indeed look like his mother, you saw it in him.

“From the vanquished city of Numidia, the victor of three contests in the Colosseum — the barbarian Hanno!” That is what they called him. They could never know the truth of it all.

On the other side another man was brought out. “Will challenge General Justus Acacius for his treasons against the lives of the Emperors and the enemy of the state.” Lucllia son would have to fight her husband. All because of you.

Lucilla’s pleading voice echoed in your ears, “whatever birth right I have it is yours-“ “Too late.” Emperor Geta had cut her off and quick. He was ready to see the game unfold and not listen to a pleading mother’s voice.

“—the Roman traitor, or the barbarian hero? Let the gods decide who will survive this contest.” The master of ceremonies finally finished his speech, letting the bloody battle that was about to begin unfold. But today, it was different. This was no longer just a game. It was personal.

Lucius raised his sword, charging at Acacius. He also hefts his sword and charged onwards as well. The clash of steel against steel rang out across the arena, drowning out the roar of the crowd.

“Acacius is a bull of a man. He may yet send that barbarian to the underworld.” Geta spoke out, he leaned against his chair.

You couldn't tear your eyes away from the combatants, even though every part of you screamed to look away, to turn your gaze elsewhere. But where else could you go? Your love always seemed to pull you back to place no matter what.

In the arena blow, Lucius and Acacius clashed with a ferocity. The general splits Lucius wooden shield, sending him back a bit and off balance. He charges forward anyways towards Acacius, unprotected this time trying to aim for his head.

The flat end of his sword, Lucius was able to catch Acacius broadside of his head. It sends him down a bit, catching him off guard as his helmet comes off and he drops his sword. The crowd's roar grew louder, a chaotic symphony of excitement and bloodlust.

Lucius stood over the fallen general, his chest heaving with exertion. Across the sand, Acacius stirred, shaking off the shock of the blow, his hand grasping for the sword he had dropped. He was a seasoned warrior, but he couldn’t stand for a man trying to survive. Instead the general raises his hand in surrender.

“Acacius has raised his hand! He surrenders!” You hear the announcement be called overhead. Though, the crowd goes silent. So do you, only hearing the pounding heartbeat inside your chest. You looked up and saw both Caracalla and Geta rise to address the people.

“Romans what do you say?” Geta shouts. You could hear the faint murmur of the crowd, their mixed emotions swirling in the dust-filled air. Lucius stood like a towering figure above Acacius, sword still raised but his body taut with uncertainty. The question had been posed, but the answer was unclear.

Some people chanted “Mercy!” Others shouted in a cry out, “Kill him!” You looked to Caracalla. His gaze met yours, cold and calculating. He was watching to see what you would do, he knew you better than anyone else.

Geta stood beside him, raising his fist. He holds it out in midair. There is silence as he waits for the ‘gods justice’ from high above. “The gods have rendered their judgment.”

He turns it over and gives a ‘thumbs down.’

The crowd erupted into a deafening roar, their voices a twisted chorus of approval and bloodlust. Lucius's hand tightened around the hilt of his sword, his expression unreadable as he stared down at Acacius, the man who was now, in essence, a condemned soul. The sun seemed to burn hotter.

“Lucius!” You hear Lucilla yell out, but it was helpless. Yet, her son looked up and tossed his sword to the side.

The crowd, stunned by the unexpected turn, fell into a tense silence. Geta’s face darkened, a flicker of anger flashing in his eyes. Caracalla was no making a thumb’s down as well, “Kill him! Kill him!” He yelled.

You felt Lucllia gaze watch over you. She knew you had the power to stop all of this but you did not. She knew. She always knew, and yet, her faith in you had crumbled long ago, like everything else in your life.

“You were once a mother too.” She whispered. You turned to her at that, you had vowed to yourself to never bring up that moment again. “How dare you bring that into this.” You snapped back at her. The venom in your words seemed to hang in the air like poison, but it didn’t deter her.

You turned away, your heart beating loudly in your chest, drowning her out.

“Is this how Rome treats its people?” The gladiator cried out from below. “If this life has no value, what are yours worth.” You could see the two emperors getting more upset every second.

“The gods have spoken!” Geta called out in reply. It was a standoff and a ripple of excitement ran through everyone in the stands. One of the brothers closest allies whispered something in Geta’s ear that you could not hear.

“Kill him!”

The archers that surrounded everyone drew their arrows. Though the Centurions hesitate for a moment before Geta says something again. “In the name of Jupiter— kill him!” They release the arrows… striking Acacius right in the chest.

Time seemed to stop right there and then. What did you just do?

More and move arrows flew to his body. One after another. Lucius sunk down to his knees, most likely waiting for an arrow that would kill him. None did come for him though. The crowd’s roar had turned into an eerie hush, their bloodlust suddenly soured by the realization of what had just happened.

The arena was too quiet. Geta and Caracalla look at each other uncomfortably, you just starred at the floor in front of you. Hearing Lucllia’s tears break through her voice. “Damn you to the fire, forever.”

Your husband turned around quickly, “first you’ll get your turn in the pit!” He shouted at her. You could tell he was frightened, the crowd was still lingering in its silence. No one moved for a couple of seconds but the Praetorian started to lead everybody out of the Emperors box before fights started to break out.

———

“We’ve should’nt had killed him.” You said, back in the palace. You clutched your fingers close to your mouth, as you view over the city of Rome in the afternoon.

Caracalla’s voice cut through your reverie. He was standing behind you, the sound of his shoes on the marble floor making your pulse quicken. His tone was low, dangerous. "You're regretting it, aren't you? You’ve tasted your own betrayal now."

“No I’m not I just—“ You had no idea what you were going to say. You did this all for him. Turning slowly, you finally faced him and took his hand into yours and sighed.

“You don’t have to lie to me,” he murmured, his voice low and unsettlingly calm. “I’ve seen it in your eyes. I’ve seen that moment of hesitation, that flicker of doubt. I know you better than anyone.”

“I did it for you,” you finally whispered, as though the words could somehow absolve the ache that was twisting in your chest. “I thought I could do it for us—for Rome.”

He moved his hand from your hand to your cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle, yet the weight of it felt like a silent accusation. You closed your eyes, the bitter taste of regret still lingering on your tongue. "I don't know anymore," you whispered, barely audible, the truth slipping out despite yourself. "I don't know what I’m doing anymore."

"You're not the only one, you know," he murmured, his fingers still resting against your skin. You could feel his hot breath against your lips as he leaned in and kissed you.

You flinched at the kiss, though you didn’t pull away. After a second you leaned into him more passionately. The familiar taste of his mouth, warm and urgent, stirred something inside you. He needed more of you and you needed more of him.

You could feel Caracalla's hands grip you tighter, pulling you closer as though he could erase all doubts with his touch. You could feel the pulse of his heartbeat against yours, a reminder that despite the violence, the treachery, and the choices you had made, you were still bound to him, body and soul.

The kiss deepened, and for a fleeting moment, his hands trailing down your body and feeling all your curves when you pulled away. Caracalla's grip on you had not loosened, as he held onto your waist. You could not read him in this very moment nor tell what he was thinking.

“I do know that I love you.” You said to him. Caracalla's eyes softened for just a moment, "Do you?" His voice was quiet, almost tender, yet the question seemed to carry the weight of the entire empire. His hands, still resting on your waist, tightened just a fraction as if testing whether you truly meant those words.

You searched his eyes, trying to find the man you once knew—the one who whispered sweet promises into your ear before the bloodshed began and that moment, the one who held you in public, as if you were a goddess to him. “How could I not?”

And yet, as Caracalla’s hand lingered on your body, you still felt the pull toward him. The love you had for him wasn’t gone, but it was changing. It was suffocating. You didn’t know if you could survive in this world he was crafting, in this empire of blood and ash.

“You were always mine,” he said softly, his voice low and almost dangerous. “And I’ll make sure you never forget it.”

You backed up, his hands softly leaving your body as you turned to look over the railing to see all of Rome in its glory. It was at your feet, what would your father have said? You remembered your wedding day and how he opposed it… yet he wanted you to be happy most of all.

The wind carried the distant hum of Rome, the faint echo of a city still alive. “You look so distant,” Caracalla’s tone was soft but sharp, like the edge of a blade. He was watching you closely, sensing the unraveling of something within you.

Were you happy?

Yes you had to be. Yes you are. The sound of Caracalla footsteps had faded away when he left the balcony, leaving you alone with your thoughts that attacked your mind. It seemed like everyday you were becoming more like him, but you turned him into what he is now. You still blame yourself for what had happened.

You breathed deeply, watching as the birds flew past in the sky, the way the bells rung and children laughing in the street. It was almost like you were young again as your mother read you a story about the gods or the great Achilles. You did not miss it.

You turned away and headed back inside, your fingers grazing over the stone as you left as well.

[djarins-cyare]

✭ Series Masterlist ✭

Languishing in a dull and lonely existence on the forest moon of Endor after travelling there to help salvage Death Star wreckage, a nearly fatal encounter with a mysterious bounty hunter out in the forest heralds an opportunity to utilise long-forgotten skills and develop something more profound than you ever thought possible.

Second person POV, present tense. Set post-season 2, diverges from Canon events before TBoBF and season 3. This is a novel-length, exceptionally slow burn with an original plot, worldbuilding, and fully-developed characterisation. SWU concepts and lore are accurately researched.

WORDS: 406,690

PAIRING: Din Djarin x Female Reader/You

RATING: Explicit (18+)

CHARACTERS: Din Djarin, Reader/You/Female OC, Original Non-Human Character(s), Original Human Characters, Greef Karga, Cara Dune, Leia Organa, Luke Skywalker, Grogu, Peli Motto

TAGS: Slow Burn, Slow Build, Romance, Love, Sexual Tension, Eventual Smut, Smut, Sex, Sexual Content, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Relationships, Healthy Relationships, Canon-Typical Violence, Blood and Injury, Dark Past, Additional Warnings In Author's Notes, Bounty Hunter Din Djarin, Soft Din Djarin, Touch-Starved Din Djarin, Din Djarin Needs a Hug, Smart Din Djarin, Soft Dominant Din Djarin, Ewok Species, Mandalorian Culture, Mando'a Language, New Razor Crest, Thoroughly Researched, Worldbuilding, No use of y/n.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This took me almost a year to write and four months to edit/proof. Each chapter is prefaced with specific tags and (where necessary) warnings, plus word counts. End notes contain translations and comments… this baby is thoroughly researched, so I’m sharing context where appropriate. I’ve also added definitions of in-universe terms so people less familiar with the franchise won’t be left wondering what the hell certain words or references mean. This is a slow burn (adult themes), and although the explicit content only occurs in the latter half, when it does, it warrants the ‘E’ rating. Basically, the first half is a love story, and the second half gets spicy. I hope you enjoy it!

READ THE COMPLETE STORY ON AO3:

(Chapters containing explicit content marked †)

Chapter 1: The Obstacle

Chapter 2: The Interrogation

Chapter 3: The Covenant

Chapter 4: The Snare

Chapter 5: The Strike

Chapter 6: The Groundwork

Chapter 7: The Genesis

Chapter 8: The Progression

Chapter 9: The Hide

Chapter 10: The Beast

Chapter 11: The Adjustment

Chapter 12: The Storm

Chapter 13: The Broadside

Chapter 14: The Intercourse

Chapter 15: The Village

Chapter 16: The Confession

Chapter 17: The Reprieve

Chapter 18: The Fortification

Chapter 19: The Ambush

Chapter 20: The Meridian

Chapter 21: The Homestretch

Chapter 22: The Union †

Chapter 23: The Overture

Chapter 24: The Crescendo

Chapter 25: The Harmony †

Chapter 26: The Cadence †

Chapter 27: The Ride †

Chapter 28: The Veneration †

Chapter 29: The Spree †

Chapter 30: The Tribute †

Chapter 31: The Courage

Chapter 32: The Feast

Chapter 33: The Exhibition †

Chapter 34: The Reward

Chapter 35: The Binding †

Chapter 36: The Synergy †

Chapter 37: The Match †

Chapter 38: The Flag †

Chapter 39: The Foundling †

Chapter 40: The Future †

✨Additional Media✨

@burntheedges has written a spectacular little drabble detailing what Din was up to during the paragraph break near the end of chapter 1 (*SPOILERS* you don’t find this out until chapter 27).

@roughdaysandart has sketched a fantastic study of chapter 33 and it’s absolutely perfect (*SPOILERS* cliffhanger ending for the chapter).

@djarin-desires has created some awesome images of a few scenes using Midjourney.

I spent a stupid amount of money on the Hot Toys official Din Djarin action figure, simply so I could photograph him in poses from my fic 🤷🏼‍♀️ This is just a taster of what’s to come, but here he is offering to help Reader climb onto the speeder in chapter 8.

🧡💚 Thank you for reading! 💚🧡

➤ MAIN MASTERLIST

Dividers by @samspenandsword

[lemonyboy97]

Self Indulgent Saiki Drabble

Learning to 'tolerate' you

GN!Reader x Saiki Kouso (ignore my spelling)

Warnings: None, but keep in mind reader likes animals in this (what pshyco doesnt? /hj)

Author's Note: We've established that Saiki doesn't really do 'friends', rather, he gets adopted by extroverts (me too bud), so here is self-indulgent headcanons for saiki and you. :)<3 enjoy

!Trigger Warning!: My southern accent shows in the writing with words like yall, critters, and frankly lol

>In this reader is a 'mental mute' simaliar to butt chin dude (its been awhile since i watched the anime i forgot most of their names)<

>yall i wrote like an essay and then deleted it all bc i didnt like it. I have spent so much time on this T^T

~~~~~~~~

Saiki isn't exactly sure how you wormed your way into his heart, and quite frankly, neither are you.

We all know mental mutes annoy this boy to no end, and for awhile you were no exception. However, you and Nendo are complete opposites. Nendo is loud, abrasive, dumb, and quite frankly, ignorant. You, on the other hand, are perceptive, kind, and you listen when someone (Saiki) asks (orders) you to do something (go away). And that has led Saiki to respect you.

Idk how yall met and frankly idc <33

Teruhashi is 100% jealous when yall get together. And yes she crashes yalls "dates" ( even when it was just you two hanging out as friends) and when the "dates" turned into actual dates yall are the EMBODYMENT of that meme "i cant believe its finally me and you, and you and me... and your friend steve. Doodoo doo doodoodoo steve" >NOT an original idea<

I feel like even though saiki isnt necesarily a fan of animals (hes indifferent to them, much like everything else in his life) you guys would go to different animal cafes to hangout/study/relax/escape from the chaos crew. The animals (specifically cats) would be all over Saiki becuase of his indifference, you know howlike if you get a pet cat the cat in question picks whoever likes it the least to be its person? Yea, thats the critters with saiki.

A bunch of songs that no one asked for that are varying levels of Saiki and you :D

BUT CAN YOU IMAGINE FLUSTERING SAIKI BY TEASING HIM SOMEHOW WITH THIS SONG ●////●

[justagalwhowrites]

Lavender - Ch. 33

You face a fight with the resistance in Kansas City. A continuation of Lavender Ch. 1-32 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Canon typical violence, child death, suicide. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ only

Length: 3.5k

“We have to go,” Henry sounded panicked. You held Ellie close to your side. 

Joel’s scream had sent a chill down your spine, the thrill of fear gnawing at your stomach. 

You were about to agree when you heard it, the rumble of a truck. You felt the blood leave your face. 

“Where’s that coming from?” Ellie looked up at you, her eyes wide. You stayed crouched low and ran to another car, peering over the hood just in time to see the lights of the oncoming truck slamming into a car that was sitting broadside across the road. 

“Shit,” you swore, moving quickly back to the car where everyone was hidden. “We have to move, they’re going to crush us!” 

You grabbed Ellie and stayed low, trying to get out of the path of the caravan. A gunshot rang out - from where Joel had gone, you thought - and you flinched in spite of yourself. The four of you scrambled to shelter behind another car and you were pretty sure they hadn’t seen you. 

The crack of another gunshot made your stomach twist. There was a crash and you flinched, an explosion that made you flinch again. 

“Stay low,” you said, voice shaky. There was another gunshot and the trucks all stopped. “Stay low, stay quiet…” 

“Up there!” 

It was a woman’s voice. Kathleen, you were willing to guess. 

“Go, where Anthony was!” 

“Fuck,” Henry looked at you, his chest heaving, eyes wide. 

“We’re going to get out of this,” you said, more confidently than you felt. He looked uncertain. “We are.” 

Henry pulled Sam against his side and you held onto Ellie. There was another gunshot, from the same place. A sign that Joel was still alive. You closed your eyes and took a shaky breath. 

“We’ve got you pinned down, Henry!” The woman yelled. “Why don’t you just come out here? Save us all the trouble, get this over with?” 

She was silent for a moment. 

“No?” She yelled. “Alright…” 

You peered around the car, watching as her militia started flitting from car to car. You weren’t going to have much time. 

“Let the kids go!” Henry yelled. You flinched. 

“Can’t do that,” she yelled back. “The girl’s with the people who killed Bryan. Sam’s with you…” 

“You don’t understand!” He yelled back. He looked like he was about to cry. Your fingers curled into Ellie’s tied back hair, holding her head against you. 

“Oh I understand, Henry,” she said. “But did you ever stop to think about anyone but yourself? But him? That maybe he was supposed to die?” 

“He’s a kid!” 

“Kids die, Henry,” she said simply. “They die all the time. Do you think you just get to destroy the world for everyone else because of them?” 

“Ellie,” you whispered, releasing her head. She looked up at you, frowning. “Stick with Henry and Sam. Joel will find you. If… if he doesn’t, head west. To Wyoming. Find Tommy Miller, OK? He’ll get you where you need to go.” 

“No,” she shook her head. “No, Doc…” 

You ignored her, looking to Henry. 

“Find Joel,” you said. “If you can’t, look out for her. I’m going to buy you time, fucking take it.” 

Her fingers clung to your jacket but you broke away from her, staying low, moving from car to car until you were just a few away from the woman. 

“It’s over, Henry!” 

You took a deep breath and stood, hands up. 

“I understand you’re hurting,” you said. You flinched, feeling their eyes all travel to you, waiting for the gunshot. It didn’t come. 

It took you a moment to find the woman who had been talking but you did. She had a hand up, stalling her gunmen. You’d take that. 

“You’ve been wronged,” you stepped forward again. “I understand that…” 

“I don’t think you do,” she said, stepping closer to you. One of her men moved with her, in her shadow. “I don’t think you understand what Henry took from me, from us. He took hope. The person with a vision for something better after living in hell with FEDRA. Henry made sure he was destroyed before he had a chance to see that vision come true. He took that from him, he took that from me, he took that from all of us. And your friend? That man? He took a boy from his family….”  

“I know,” you said, your hands still up. “And I understand why you’re hurting, why you’re angry. Why you’re doing what you’re doing but… would someone who wanted better than FEDRA want what you’re doing right now?” 

Before she had a chance to argue, you kept going. 

“Take me instead,” your eyes were wide, earnest. “I’ll come and work for you, I’m a doctor, you’re going to need doctors, right? If you want Kansas City to be better with you than it was with FEDRA you need doctors. I can help you, you can do whatever you want with me and I’ll still help your people. You hate FEDRA? Fine, I used to work for them, back in Boston, take it out on me. Hate the man who killed your friend? I’m with him, that will hurt him. Want Henry to feel some of how you’re feeling? Don’t kill him. That’s too merciful, just… Keep me, OK? I can help you, I’ll do whatever you ask no matter what you do, just let them go, OK?” 

“You think one person, one life can make up for all of that?” She asked, shaking her head. 

“No,” you replied, hoping to whatever god there was that Ellie, Henry and Sam were on the move. “But I think you want to lead people and lead people well, I think you want more than revenge. Don’t you?” 

She pointed her pistol at your chest. 

“You have no idea what I want,” she all but snarled it. “No idea what the people here want or need or deserve…” 

There was a metallic, wrenching sound from behind her and you couldn’t help but look to find the source of it. A truck next to the burning building shifted, rocking forward, the earth swallowing it. You frowned and Kathleen turned to watch the truck disappear. She stepped back which, when your mind bothered to process any of it, seemed smart. But you couldn’t make yourself move. 

Not until the inhuman shrieking began. 

“Fuck!” 

***

If you all made it out of here alive, Joel wasn’t sure if he was going to kiss you or kill you. 

He’d done everything he possibly could to give you cover. Not that there was much of anywhere to go but he’d hoped you’d figure something out, something besides staying in danger when the trucks came to a stop. But you stayed where you were. 

“Fuck,” he muttered, ducking back from the window, trying to keep from being a target himself while he could manage it. He couldn’t cover you if he was dead… 

And then he heard your voice, loud and clear and confident, offering yourself up like a sacrifice upon the altar built by FEDRA’s cruelty and the suffering wrought by the cordyceps. As if that were your place. He got ready to shoot your way out of there when it happened. 

The infected poured out of the hole in the earth, like the place where FEDRA had driven them was suddenly emptying them back onto the surface, every one of them hungry and reaching for retribution. 

The only blessing was that, for a moment, the resistance’s attention wasn’t focused on you. You froze for a moment before you walked backwards a few steps and then turned and ran, trying to get back to the car where Ellie, Henry and Sam were hidden. He did his best to give you cover, taking down the infected as they broke through the line, until you reached the car. 

“Move,” he muttered to himself, watching your hiding place. “Come on Baby, fucking move…” 

“Run them down!” The resistance woman yelled. 

“Fuck,” Joel muttered, looking to her and her men for a moment. Most of them were focused on killing infected and the enemy of my enemy… 

He went back to you and thank fuck you listened to him, moving with Ellie and Henry and Sam, just looking to get away from there. You looked toward him at the house and he wasn’t sure if you could see him but he gave you a nod. He saw you, he would find you, he would protect you. He hoped you knew it, even if you couldn’t see it. He hoped you’d sense it somehow, like he’d sense it with you. 

The infected were fast and overwhelming, swarming the resistance troops. Sam and Henry broke off and Joel cursed, sticking with you and the girl. The pair of you cowered behind a car for a moment and Joel saw you point and Ellie nod. He followed where you were looking - an SUV with an open window. 

He could clear your path. He shot an infected that was getting closer to you, one that would be in the way. You looked to him again, for just a second, before running with Ellie. 

Your pistol was drawn this time, at least, and you managed to shoot an infected twice before it dropped. Joel took care of three more. 

At the SUV, you boosted Ellie through the window but the girl had almost gotten stuck. You weren’t going to fit. Fuck, you weren’t going to fit… 

You figured it out quickly, running again. Joel covered you, taking out the infected trailing you as you ran. 

He noticed the resistance woman and her guard then, both of them more interested in finding you and Ellie and Henry and Sam until a giant fucking bloater rushed them. 

To the man’s credit, he threw the woman behind him and stood his ground, shooting the infected with a caliber of bullet that wouldn’t do a goddamn thing. 

For half a second, Joel considered shooting the fucking thing. It was a threat to you and the girl, after all. It was hardly a waste of bullets. But the resistance woman immediately turned and started following you, like she was on a fucking mission, like her men weren’t dying around her. 

He left the bloater to finish off her right hand man. 

Joel looked back to where Ellie was and realized an infected in the body of a child had managed to climb in the car with her. He could only watch as she scrambled for a door and made it out into the chaos of the scene again, slamming the door shut behind her. He got ready to cover her, hoping she’d be smart enough to go for you as you closed in on the tree line, no idea that she’d been in trouble. 

Ellie wasn’t smart. Instead, she ran for Henry and Sam, the pair of them pinned down below a car as a cluster of infected stretched and clawed to reach them. 

“Fuck,” Joel muttered, trying to take out the ones he could. Ellie was small but vicious, jumping on infected and thrusting her knife into its neck until it fell. 

She was able to pull Henry and Sam free just as you seemed to realize what was going on. You went to help but the resistance woman was in your path, her gun pointed at you. You froze, your hands up. He went to shoot her but an infected was coming for her first, the small one that had been in the car with the girl. You spotted it, too, and you pointed, like you were warning the woman who had you at gunpoint. 

The child infected leapt for her and started ripping and tearing. Ellie, Henry and Sam were near you but there weren’t many infected that had reached where you were yet. If he was going to move, now was the time. 

He slung the gun over his shoulder and ran, taking the steps two at a time and tearing through the night to find you. 

There were no infected or soldiers on his path and he reached you quickly, the four of you clambering up the hillside as the screams of infected and militia melted together behind you. 

You looked up at him, your eyes wide. There was blood by your ear and his stomach dropped. 

“Let’s go!” He stepped to the side, Henry in the lead with Sam close behind, followed by Ellie and then you. 

The second you were close enough, he grabbed you, holding you to him for a moment. 

“Never fucking do that again,” he was panting for breath. You hesitantly wrapped your arms around him, holding him for a moment, before he let you go and you followed the others up the hill. 

***

There was a small motel that you reached just as Joel thought you were far enough away from the hellish chaos of the scene to stop and the four of you hurried inside, locking the doors and drawing the curtains, hoping that you wouldn’t need any of the precautions. 

“Holy shit, I can’t believe we’re alive,” Henry laughed as soon as you were safely inside. “Holy fucking shit, I can’t believe we survived that!” 

“Does anyone need medical attention?” You asked, dropping your bag down. “I’m assuming no one got bitten but if anyone’s scraped up otherwise… I got a scratch I know I need to patch up, anyone else?” 

Ellie just shook her head. Henry signed at Sam who signed back. 

“Think we made it out unscathed,” Henry smiled. Sam signed and Henry signed back. The boy smiled broadly, taking Ellie by the hand and leading her to the adjacent bedroom, writing frantically on his small erasable pad as he went. Joel went and set a lantern up in the room and came back out to where you’d settled on the floor, your head leaned back against the wall, Henry sitting at the table. 

“Still can’t believe we lived through that,” he laughed, almost giddy. You smiled a little. 

“Yeah, me either,” you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. 

“We’re talkin’ about you doin’ shit like handing yourself over to anyone who asks,” Joel grumbled. You opened your eyes long enough to watch him settle at the table beside Henry. You shrugged. 

“Figured I’d find a way out eventually,” you said. “And out of all of us, I made the most sense. They had the most reason to keep me alive, Henry has Sam and you need to get Ellie to Wyoming. I couldn’t get her there on my own. I’m pretty disposable - minus my very convenient skill as a human blood bag.” 

Joel ground his teeth and you closed your eyes again.

“What’s in Wyoming, anyway?” Henry asked. 

“My brother,” Joel said after a moment. “Think he might know a good place to go. Hopefully a lot fuckin’ better than here, especially when it comes to raisin’ kids…” 

“Do you think they’ll be OK?” Henry asked. You opened your eyes again to look at him and he jerked his head toward the door. Ellie was leaning over a comic book they’d taken from the settlement in the tunnels, making dramatic hand gestures. 

“Yeah,” you said after a moment of watching them. “Kids are like rubber. Shit just bounces off of them sometimes. Not to say don’t keep an eye on him, pay attention to him, ask if he needs to talk or wants help but… I think he’ll be OK.” 

“And Wyoming can be a new start for him,” Henry said. “For both of us. It’ll be good for us, I think.” 

“New start’s not a bad thing,” Joel said, looking at you, his eyes serious. “Sometimes it’s just what you need.” 

You smiled a bit at him. 

The three of you let the kids play for a while longer before Joel and Henry went in to collect the lantern and tell them that it was time to go to sleep. You weren’t too far behind, stretching your sleeping bag out on the floor. 

Henry put his on the opposite side of the room and Joel set his up close to yours. You frowned. 

“You don’t have to worry about me, whatever you’re doing,” you said. He shrugged. 

“Wanted to stay close,” he said. “Make sure you don’t go and try to offer yourself up as a sacrifice to whatever fucker happens to come by…” 

You rolled your eyes. 

“Don’t be mad at me because my logic made the most sense,” you scoffed. He stretched out on his sleeping bag. 

“It didn’t make sense,” he said. “Not to me.” 

“You’ll need to get over that hangup,” you muttered as you stretched out, too. He just grunted back at you but put his arm over you again, his elbow settling comfortably into the area between your hipbones and your ribs. 

You knew you should fight him on this. On him touching you. You knew it would be bad for you, in the end. When he got bored, when he worked through whatever he was working through, when he put you down again. Like an old toy that he knew would still be sitting there when he returned, he’d leave you behind and you would stay right where he left you, waiting for him to take an interest again. 

But it couldn’t be good for him, either. To be working himself closer to you knowing what would come next. It couldn’t be painless, could it? He had to feel something, right? 

Maybe he didn’t. Maybe his indifference had grown to the point where you were just a warm body now, something of such little consequence he could wrap around you one night and break away from you the next. 

You could deal with the fallout of it when it came, you figured. When you went with the Fireflies, it was going to feel a bit like the end of all things. You were going to be alone, more alone than you’d been since the night of the outbreak. Now was not the time to be picky if he was giving you something that you could live with losing. Now was the time to cling to his touch, memorize it, see if you could fall into it when you were alone, too. You fell asleep feeling his breath on your neck. 

You woke up to screaming. 

Joel jumped up, tearing to his feet as Ellie scrambled out of the bedroom, Sam snarling viciously behind her. 

It took you a moment to start to understand what was happening, your sleep-addled brain not able to catch up as you clambered out to your feet. You’d asked everyone, when you got here last night. Henry had asked Sam, you’d watched him do it. It didn’t make sense, he couldn’t have turned, it didn’t make sense, how could he have turned? 

“Ellie!” Joel screamed, going for her but Henry pulled his gun, shooting the floor at his feet where you’d been just seconds before. Joel threw you behind him. Ellie screamed and you tried to go for her but Henry kept the gun on you, his eyes wide. 

“There’s nothing you can do!” You yelled at him. “He’s gone, you can’t help him, there’s nothing…” 

He turned the gun to Sam and fired. A horrible, wracking sound tore from Ellie and you pressed your face into Joel’s back. His whole body was stiff. You clung to him, not wanting to look at the small body you knew was just feet away. 

“Ellie,” Joel said. “You OK?” 

She made a noise that sounded like a yes. 

“Oh my God,” Henry breathed. You opened your eyes and stepped around Joel. The gun was still in Henry’s hand. It was pointed at nothing. “What… what did I do?” 

He was staring at the place you couldn’t look. 

“You had to,” you said quietly. “He was already gone, you saved Ellie…” 

“Henry,” Joel said, stepping toward him cautiously. “Just give me the gun. It’s OK, just…” 

He turned the gun toward himself. 

“No,” Joel said, reaching for him, trying to be calm, trying to maintain control. “No, don’t…” 

He pulled the trigger before the sentence had left Joel’s mouth. You jumped and flinched and pressed your face into Joel’s back again as Ellie screamed, the sound ripping through you. 

You forced yourself to open your eyes, to look where you’d been dreading to look, your stomach twisting at the sight of the tiny body on the floor. Ellie sat there, her eyes wide and watery, mouth open in shock, staring at where Henry’s body lay on the ground. 

You went for her, stepping over Sam’s small frame to gather her in your arms. She let you, her limbs limp and pliant. 

“It’s OK sweetheart,” you said softly, kissing the crown of her head as she pressed her face into your chest. “I’m so sorry. It’s going to be OK. I’m so sorry…” 

You just held her as she sobbed, surrounded by the bodies of the people who you’d thought you could save. 

Taglist: @paleidiot@ayamenimthiriel@ginger-swag-rapunzel@drewharrisonwriter@flugazi@pedropascalsbbg @taoyuji@starstruckmusiciansartghost@splendsay@bigboiseason123 @jpbplvr@ashleyandring @mrsyixingunicorn10@sloanexx@ninaminaromina@lady-bellyn @hufflepuffriver@sarap-77 @storyarcscribe@mellymbee @jasminedragoon@lemonmeli@reds-ramblings@arizonadaydreamer@mumma-moonchild@blackroseguzzi@candypeaches16@kittenlittle24@wrappedinfiction@oatmeaiboy@pedritosdarling@winchestergypsy90 @imnotdatboii@lalalalemonade11@maknimuk1 @mrsdarcyinlovewithbuckybarnes@pedrosaidsheispunk @commanderawkward @n7cje@elliesgirlll@tsunamistorm123 @spookyxsam @leeeesahhh

A/N: A sad goodbye to Sam and Henry wraps up this chunk of canon overlap. Next up, we're going to see a lot more of the trip to Jackson with our little trio - including some stuff that I think people have been really looking forward to *wink wink*

So I did something different with my taglist today. A writer buddy told me you have to like... do something to each handle to make it a tag and not just copy/paste? Yeah I'm still fumbling around with this site guys lol I've only been here like 2 months so I apologize! Hopefully the tagging worked better this time! Let me know in the comments if you want to be added to the tag list :)

Thank you so much for reading! It's been so fun to write the story with all of you reading along. I so love reading all of your thoughts and knowing that you're invested in these characters. Thanks for hanging out with my work. Love you all!

[somedaylazysomeday]

Bitten - Part Two

Commander Wolffe x fem!reader

Rating: Mature. No explicit material in this one, but the next part will be! Minors, please DNI!

Word Count: 4,100

Warnings: themes of rejection, longing, and disappointment. Also for standard club behavior, a single slap, references to past intimacy, hashing out terms with a dominant sexual partner, and alcohol usage.

Previous | Next | Masterlist

---

“Hey, you’ll never guess who’s here!” Gemma told you excitedly when you ducked back to the table for a gulp of your drink.

“Who?” you asked innocently. Of course, you knew exactly who was there: Broadside. It was like you had a special ability to sense whether he was in a crowd - or, on one of your better days, whether he was looking in your direction or not. 

Your fixation on the pilot hadn’t faded with time or lack of attention. It was ridiculous, even a little sad, you could admit that much. But when you shared the same space during down time, Broadside always fell into conversation with you, smiling at you any time you entered a room he was in. He helped you with some of your duties scheduling maintenance for the ships, and every interaction only pushed you further toward obsession. 

It was to the point that everything done in Broadside’s presence felt… performative. Like you were showing off for him even when you were just doing what you normally would be. Of course, that was done intentionally tonight. You had suggested 79’s knowing he would be here and dressed to impress. You had gotten a drink when you may have skipped it on another night, chatting and laughing with Gemma more exaggeratedly than you normally would have. Even the trooper you were dancing with had been positioned so that you were dancing where Broadside could clearly see you.

“Wolffe!” Gemma reported. 

The answer was so unexpected that you could only frown at your friend in confused silence for a moment. “...Wolffe?”

“You know,” she said with a vague gesture. “Wolffe. The commander who rocked your galaxy so hard that you forgot about Mister Perfect for a little while?”

“I remember,” you said, forcing a small laugh but not offering any other answer.

Wolffe had been amazing… maybe too amazing. He had distracted you. Admittedly, that was what you had wanted to happen, but you hadn’t expected it to be so all-encompassing. After your time with the commander, you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him. It had been like having another Broadside, but somehow worse. Your connection with Wolffe felt sharper, deeper. Ridiculous, since you couldn’t even charitably say you had shared a conversation. You had just fucked. It had felt good - in fact, ‘good’ seemed like too simple a term for it - but you hadn’t felt right about your preoccupation afterward.

So you hadn’t commed him. 

Somewhere between the end of her shift and disappearing with Gemma, Ieri had slipped you a napkin with a string of numbers written in a neat hand. Clearly, Ieri had been the one to write it down, but you trusted that it was the accurate comm code. However, she hadn’t written his name on it. Instead, she had labeled it with a simple ‘W’. 

You had narrowed your eyes at Ieri for that one, waving the napkin between you. “What, he didn’t want you to put his full name?”

“Are you kidding?” Ieri had asked. “If anyone knew Wolffe was between partners right now, they’d stun you in a heartbeat for that comm code. He’s a popular man. I can’t take the chance you’ll lose it and then I’m responsible for the dozens of calls he’ll get.”

That had created more questions than it answered, and you frowned at the pretty Zeltron. “So he’s some kind of lady’s - well, and gentleman’s - man?”

Ieri had given an indelicate snort, one loud enough to be heard over the music. “Not even close. People just… they want what he has to offer.”

No, you hadn’t called Wolffe… but you still had the napkin tucked away in a safe spot in your bedroom. Gemma had kept you up-to-date about when the so-called Wolfpack was on Coruscant, and you had been tempted more than once to take Wolffe up on his offer, but you never had. Wolffe was great, but you weren’t willing to risk losing yourself just to get Broadside out of your head.

“So what are you gonna do about it?” Gemma asked, pulling you back to the current moment.

“Nothing,” you told her with a shrug. “I’ve got a good thing going with a trooper on the dance floor. I think I may end up going home with him.”

“Suit yourself,” Gemma said, shaking her head doubtfully. “I don’t know why anyone would pass up tall, menacing, and cybernetic, but that’s your choice. An incorrect one.” She may have been trying for discretion by muttering the last part into her drink, but since the comment had still been loud enough to cut through the din of 79’s, you didn’t want to give her too much credit for tact.

“Just because you’re deliriously happy in a committed relationship doesn’t mean the rest of us are itching to follow your lead,” you retorted, smiling to take the sting out of it. Gemma and Ieri had been inseparable since that first night. They were sweet together… when they weren’t being jaw-droppingly public with their physical affection.

“Yeah…” Gemma drawled, sarcasm dripping from every one of the too-many syllables she gave the word. “You’re a paragon of polyamory.”

You made a face at her, but you were having too much fun to take her teasing seriously, much less be offended by it. Besides, you had done what you had wanted by coming to 79’s - you had made sure Broadside saw you. After all, familiarity was the primary requirement for attraction. Sure, you weren’t going home with Broadside that night, but there was another very attractive trooper who thought you were interesting enough. 

Overall, it was a very pleasant way to spend an evening. 

When you glanced at the dance floor, you caught the eyes of the trooper in question, and you made a mental note to find out his name before things went too much farther. The noisy club could excuse a lot of things, but it would just be awkward to ask at a certain point.

The unnamed trooper lifted a single eyebrow and you smiled at him. You both took that combination as a sign that you should return to the dance floor, and you were blissfully dancing together only moments later. You were steadily losing yourself in his swaying and the way his hands wrapped around your hips…

“Excuse me,” someone said loudly, knocking you slightly forward as they cut between you and the trooper. 

You glanced up, heart pausing and then pounding viciously as you recognized the intruder as Broadside. 

Your dance partner didn’t seem nearly as excited to see Broadside as you were, and scowled at the new arrival. “What the kriff? Do you mind? We were in the middle of something-”

“I think you were in the middle of leaving, vod,” Broadside told him, the words bit out sharply.

The trooper looked at you for confirmation. You shrugged apologetically. He was sexy and seemed… nice… you had never actually spoken to him, though, so how were you to know? He was sexy, but Broadside was Broadside. He was the man who made your chest ache when he smiled. And now, when his face was half-creased in an expression of displeasure, your ribs ached with the effort to hold in a laugh as you realized he might actually be jealous. 

When the other man had left in a huff, you tilted your chin playfully at Broadside. “You know, if you wanted to dance, all you had to do was ask.”

Broadside shook his head, returning your grin as he picked up where the other trooper had left off. Admittedly, he wasn’t nearly as skilled a dancer, but what did that matter? You were dancing with your crush. There was a chance your flirtations with another man had spurred him into action. 

It wasn’t the lovelorn confession of long-stifled feelings you had wanted, but you would take it. 

When Broadside’s hands rose to follow the dip of your waist, then the swell of your ribs, you thought you might actually hyperventilate. There may never be a better chance than this, so you were going to take full advantage of it. 

“You know, Broadside,” you said, striving for a conversational tone that could still be heard over the roaring crowd and thumping music. It wasn’t an easy balance. “There’s something I’ve wanted to say for-”

“Hey,” Broadside interrupted, only then noticing your startled expression. “Sorry, we’ll get back to that in a minute, but do you see the Mirialan girl behind me?”

“Yeah..?”

“Is she looking at us?”

You were instantly on-edge, alert in the face of an impending threat. Was this girl someone who liked Broadside? Was she going to try to compete for his attention? Was she obsessed with him? When you scanned the crowd, you found a girl watching you with sharp eyes, suspicion and jealousy filling her expression. 

But you also saw a Mirialan girl and found that she looked vaguely interested at best. Who was that other girl? you thought, bristling. When you looked back, she was still staring, face shifting colors with the lights overhead. 

With the alcohol and the seething crowd in the background, you hadn’t immediately recognized yourself, but you could clearly see the mirror now. You made a conscious effort to smooth your expression before you looked back at Broadside, who was watching you with curiosity on his face.

“Yes?” you answered belatedly.

“Does she look irritated?” Broadside caught your blank stare and hurried to add, “Like she’s mad I’m dancing with another girl and wants to come over here and dance with me instead?”

Your stomach clenched so hard you thought you might vomit. “Uh, no. Why?”

Broadside visibly slumped. “I’m trying to make her jealous. If she doesn’t look upset, it’s obviously not working.” 

And there it was. 

You felt so stupid, so irritated with yourself for falling for this again. The alcohol and disappointment mixing in the pit of your stomach sharpened your senses, gave you the perspective you had been lacking lately. You were being ridiculous about this, about liking someone who was never going to feel the same way about you in return.

Maybe your preoccupation with Broadside had reached an obsession, but could you really be blamed for believing it could be something more when he did things like dance with you in clubs or have comm conversations with you late into the night? You were partially at fault here, but could the blame truly be laid at your feet alone?

It was too much self-reflection after such a long time spent deep in denial. You still felt like vomiting and you were growing increasingly worried you were going to do something embarrassing, like burst into tears and demand that Broadside love you back. Or ask him whether he knew just how much he had led you on. Maybe that would even be healthy…

Before you had a chance of forming a semi-objective opinion about that, you realized that Broadside was talking again. He was still dancing - maybe he had never stopped. You were swaying awkwardly back and forth in front of him, still in touching distance. For the first time you could remember, you weren’t even tempted to touch him. 

“Should we kiss?” Broadside asked, clearly oblivious to your line of thought.

You considered it, you really did. You had wanted this for so long, even if the situation was drastically different than you would have preferred. Your brain immediately sprang into action, throwing out every justification it could come up with: 

You’ve spent so much time thinking about this, you may as well take advantage.

If you’re really ready to move past him, helping him get another girl is a good way to prove it. 

And, most desperately, Maybe kissing you would change his mind.

With more effort than you were proud of, you pushed the thoughts and temptations away. You shook your head. “No, competition won’t do the trick here, but I can think of one thing that might work. Do you trust me?”

“With my life and everything else,” Broadside immediately replied, eyes shining with endearing earnestness. 

That look paired with those words broke your heart a bit. Still, you took a savage joy in slapping him soundly across the face. 

It sounded a lot worse than it was. Broadside’s head moved only as much as necessary to accept the blow and there was no sign of hurt on his face, only confusion. To everyone else, though, it must have looked serious. The immediate crowd fell awkwardly silent, no conversations filling the gaps in the pulsing music as they tried to figure out what had just happened. It was both disappointing and satisfying that the Mirialan girl finally looked interested in what was happening. 

“Now go to the bar, act confused, and let her comfort you.” You gave Broadside a slightly watery wink to accompany the instructions. “Good luck.” 

He smiled at you, his lips moving as he said something in reply, but you were already turning away. 

The crowded dance floor seemed to swim across your vision, but you navigated out of it with enough presence of mind to aim toward the refreshers. Ieri’s lovely face slowly pulled from the crowd, drawn into an expression of concern. “Are you okay?”

You waved her off. “Fine. Excuse me.”

By the time you reached the refreshers, you were nearly desperate for a semi-private place to nurse your wounds. For once, there wasn’t a line of patrons waiting to use the private, closet-like stalls. 

The 79’s refreshers weren’t your favorite place. They were all unisex, which cut down on the line… assuming no one had decided to hook up in one. The staff at 79’s did their best to keep the refreshers ruthlessly clean, but that just made things more odd. The air was scented with harsh chemicals and sweet perfume. The grime-free floor was littered with paper and a condom - thankfully unused, though you weren’t going to start digging through trash cans. The mirror had likely started the day clean, but it was now covered in lipstick kisses and some graffiti.

Despite your typical feelings about them, you were profoundly grateful to close yourself in the refresher and let yourself fall apart. It took less time than expected, though. After a short burst of tears - the ones you had been holding in - you were left feeling numb. When you saw your reflection in the mirror, you looked… shocked.

That was accurate. 

You gave yourself another few minutes to reduce the risk of a breakdown in public, but you could hear a line forming outside as 79’s hit peak occupancy. After swiping a paper towel soaked in cool water beneath your eyes, you vacated the stall, watching as a giggling couple took your place. 

For a moment, you stared blankly at the crowd of people on the dance floor, but it was no use. You didn’t feel up to acting casual enough to find a partner for the evening, especially since Broadside had ruined your best chance of a hook-up. Drinking didn’t seem like a great idea in your current frame of mind. Honestly, the best thing would probably be to leave, go home and process things in a safe, quiet space.

No sooner had you decided that was the best course of action than you became aware of a figure standing nearby.

Wolffe was tucked along one of the walls, watching the dance floor as he sipped from a glass that had probably once held whiskey, but now seemed to hold little but ice. His arms were crossed and his cybernetic eye gleamed in the flashing, multicolored beams of light that shone around the room. He looked bored and thoroughly unimpressed, and neither of those expressions changed as you offered him a fresh glass of whiskey you had retrieved from the bar.

His mismatched eyes traveled from the glass in your hand to your face, studying you with an intensity that made you slightly nervous. You took a drink from your own glass in an attempt to avoid his scrutiny.

“Hyperdrive?”

You paused, blinking at the unfamiliar question as you swallowed the mouthful of your drink. Of course Wolffe remembered your drink order from your only previous interaction. Well, and why not? You had certainly remembered his. 

“Uh, no,” you said, glancing down into your glass. “It’s a Bespin Fizz.”

Wolffe nodded, sipping from his glass. He gave an appreciative hum that put your body on-edge, then nodded at your hand. “Any good?”

“No,” you said with a rueful smile. “But I wanted to try something different.”

Wolffe hummed again, but didn’t offer any other reply. Instead, he continued to watch the dance floor in silence. You deflated at being ignored. The night had already been rough enough that you were doubting your own attractiveness, and Wolffe wasn’t helping. Not that it was his responsibility to do so, of course, but still…

Just as you were ready to mumble an excuse and melt away, Wolffe jutted his chin toward the dance floor. “Not much excitement since you left.”

You winced. “You saw that?”

“Yeah.” Wolffe glanced sideways at you. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you said. It was unconvincing even to your own ears. “No, actually.”

He nodded slowly, like he had known your answer all along. “Want me to have my guys mess with him?”

The unexpected offer brought a startled laugh to your lips. “No, that’s okay. But maybe…”

You trailed off, courage faltering even when Wolffe spurred you on with a sharply raised brow. Still, he waited for you to speak rather than ask what you were trying to say. When you managed to force the words out, they spilled from you in a violent rush: “Couldyoudistractmeagain?”

Wolffe’s mask of indifference was incredible - he did little more than pause a moment before he had a reply for you. “Why didn’t you comm?”

“What?” you asked, certain you had misheard him, but he only watched you steadily and took a sip of his drink. “I- I didn’t think you would notice. Not notice, really,” you altered hastily when he tilted his head in a manner that managed to look displeased. “More like care. Ieri told me you’re popular. No, wait. She said that people want what you have to offer.”

The look Wolffe gave you at that managed to be both inscrutable and utterly disapproving. “And?”

You shrugged. “I didn’t want to risk getting in the middle of something. You know, if you were already seeing someone or something.”

“First, I don’t get involved with someone if I’m already seeing someone else,” Wolffe told you, voice firm. “Second, only one of us is emotionally attached to someone right now.”

Your breath huffed out automatically at that, as if your body itself was acknowledging the solid blow he had landed on your psyche. The immediate instinct screaming through you was to reply, to throw something - anything - back at him. But you were still reeling from the hit and could only stand there, watching him. 

Wolffe’s gaze was pitiless. “I don’t normally let people use me this way-”

“Use you?” you repeated, horrified at the implications of that. 

“This is the second time you’ve come asking for a distraction,” Wolffe pointed out. “With no intention of offering anything in return either time. What else would you call it?”

Your self-esteem took another hit. You had assumed that being with someone was its own reward, but Wolffe was making it sound like he had done you a favor. “I didn’t realize last time was such an imposition.”

“It wasn’t.”

For the second time in this conversation, you were left gaping at him. “Then what are we talking about, here?”

One side of Wolffe’s mouth curled in a mocking sort of smile. “This game we play - the game you were so eager to play last time - is all about power dynamics. You asked me for a distraction the first time and I gave it. A favor, a step into the game. Now you’re asking for another.” 

You could feel your eyes widen throughout his explanation. For one thing, you were pretty sure it was the longest speech you had ever heard him make. But more surprising than Wolffe’s sudden verbosity was your own reaction: you were intently interested, your mouth dry and your pulse pounding through your body. 

Wolffe shook his head slowly, keeping his eyes trained on you. “All I need to do is decide whether to give you a favor or ask you for something in return.”

“I’ll give you anything,” you said breathlessly, then could have kicked yourself. What a stupid offer to make, especially when the man had just told you that it was all a power game. You had surrendered all of your power immediately. 

Wolffe must have seen your self-censure, because he chuckled. It was a low sound, surprisingly rich as it curled around you even through the thumping music. 

His laughter made you smile despite yourself. “Within reason. What is the going rate for this kind of favor?”

“For this? Considering the show you put on when you were on the dance floor?” Wolffe fell silent while he thought about it, but his gaze was anything but absent as he studied you. He seemed to be tallying up a total in his mind, and you could only hope you had the ability to pay his price. “No charge. Instead, I’ll make you a deal.”

Somehow, that wasn’t reassuring. You frowned at him. “What kind of a deal?”

“If we finish up and you don’t feel the urge to comm, you’re in the clear. If you’re totally satisfied but want nothing more, you never need to talk to me again.” Wolffe’s scrutiny increased until you felt ready to squirm under its weight. “But if you want more, you have to initiate it. You have to comm me.”

“And if I do comm you?” you asked, trying to push words through your dry lips. “What is the next step?”

“We’ll set up a meeting and see about making a more permanent arrangement.”

Without any further explanation, Wolffe held his hand out for you to shake. You eyed it for a moment, but couldn’t claim that the offer was anything less than fair. If he really had been doing you a favor last time and you were asking him for another, it was only right that he got to set some terms. And if he really wasn’t out of your system after this, maybe you should consider getting together with him on a regular basis. 

If nothing else, he could probably drive Broadside from your mind permanently. 

You pushed away the surge of relief that rose in you at the thought - there would be time for self-reflection later. In that precise moment, your main focus was on Wolffe and the pleasure you hoped to share with him, whether or not that led to something more. 

You shook his hand. 

As his fingers slowly slipped from yours after giving a single, weighty shake, Wolffe watched you. He had been doing exactly that most of the time you had spent together, his attention fixed on you despite watching the dance floor at several key moments. However, this look was different. It was patient, it was… expectant. 

“Do I have your permission to touch you?”

You tilted your head at him, offering a bemused smile. “I thought I was the one who was supposed to ask permission.”

“Not tonight, not necessarily,” Wolffe told you. “Tonight, I want to make you feel good, show you what this game has to offer. If you’re good with it, the only thing I want you to do is take in all the pleasure you can handle. Tell me to stop if you need me to, but I’m asking for blanket permission.”

“Sounds like something I can do,” you agreed, trying not to sound too eager.

Wolffe nodded slowly. He didn’t respond, and the silence stretched between you - a trick in the middle of the sheer volume of 79’s. 

Eventually, you broke that silence with a half-chuckle. “Should I find Ieri? You know, ask for the storage room key again?”

The corners of Wolffe’s mouth twitched upward, but he shook his head and began to walk away. You trailed behind him with his simple order still rumbling through your mind: “Follow me.”

---

Author's Note - as usual with my two-part fics, this part wasn't very spicy, but the next one will be almost entirely spice. You've been warned!

I don't offer a taglist for explicit fics, but you can find other works on my masterlist.

[jasntodds]

Caving In:

Pairing: Gar Logan x Fem!Powered!Reader, Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader

Summary: “Tell me Atlas: What is heavier, The world of its people’s hearts?”

You never expected your life to end up this way, turned upside down by an infamous Gotham villain. It’s been a living hell, every single day, until Dick Grayson brings you to Titans Tower where you meet Gar Logan and Jason Todd.

taglist | series masterlist | full masterlist | listen to the full playlist on spotify

Playlist:

1. Caving In - In Her Own Words

“You got me at the end of your string. So, pull me in or let me down slowly.”

2. Feel Something - Landon Austin

“When I'm with you, I feel something so I'm hoping you'll stick around.”

3. The Pact - Rain City Drive

“I'll keep my purpose, you keep your faith that we can get through this.”

4. Weather - A Story Told

“We'll fly away together and hide from all this weather out here.”

5. Voldemort - With Confidence

“Despite the weather, it gets better. You won't do this alone.”

6. My Heart I Surrender - I Prevail

“Will our stars ever align? Will two hearts beat in time? These words you should always remember: to you, my heart I surrender.”

7. Sleepless Nights - Flights Over Phoenix

“If I could, I'd be better for you.”

8.  If It’s Too Much To Carry - Jansen, The Wldlfe

"I know life’s getting scary just put it on me if it’s too much to carry. You can put it on me if it’s too much to carry.”

9. Half Empty - State Champs feat. Chrissy Costanza

“I'm the glass half-empty of every drink. You're the other half of me.”

10. The Raging Sea - Broadside

“All my days are wasted dreams. I know that's not the kind of thing you wanna hear from me.”

[littlemissmanga]

Thank you for the tag @the-bad-batch-baroness!

Oh boy, maybe writing them all out and making them public will help me.

Date Night Pt 4, Dogma x OC (Yen)

Why Not (Tech)

Surprise (Omega)

Taken (Boba Fett)

Hunter & Headphones (Hunter, I keep changing the title for this one)

The Ghost of a Love (Crosshair)

High Flying (Broadside)

[Need a Title for VERY Angsty Jesse WIP]

Hope (Echo x reader)

Rex Kiss Prompt

Hound Kiss Prompt (genuinely so excited for this)

Echo Kiss Prompt

Crosshair Kiss Prompt

13 Unlucky WIPs just languishing in my drafts. I'm so mad, too, I added the Jesse one yesterday and I really don't like writing angst but I saw it so clearly I needed to write it ... only to just plot it out. More than half of these are plotted. The words just ain't wording.

But I will get these done ... eventually.

What about you guys, NPT crew? @daimyosprincess @thirsty-boba-fett-posts @multi-fan-dom-madness @isthereanechoinhere96 @commander-sunshine @kyberblade @starrylothcat @dystopicjumpsuit @wolffegirlsunite @sinfulsalutations @spacemagicandlaserswords @techtalksfics @rain-on-kamino

WIP GAME!!!

Thank you for the tag @walls-actul-ly! RULES: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs. ---- 1. Attention to all troopers 2. BASSZÁTOK MEG BÁDOGEMBEREK 3. Buir 4. carameldansen 5. crosshair annyira mérges lesz ha meghal 6. deadmen don't eat 7. iliketrains 8. is it mad to pray for better hallucinations 9. kjkjkjkjkjk 10. merKasen 11. miafaszomazashibari 12. New canvas 13. rwerwerwerwerwerwer 14. When I peek into my scope I see this guy 15. Zetsubou 16. zuzuzuzu ---- Not all my wips but most... actually had to collect them in one folder because I like to organize things in folders... but not naming them properly apparently. It can be fanfic, it can be art, be brave and choose! :D Also, for fanfics, an english title doesn't indicate english text within, but I guess this will be a good exercise for me to attempt to translate them and share more of my written stuff. :))))) So some titles are in hungarian, if someone wants to translate them before asking. Now I can't tag as many people as my wips... but NPT: @ithillia @riinoaheartilly @nooneherebutusghosts @hurryupmerlin @marymunchkiin @battlekilt @commanderfoxdeservesbetter

[wanderinginksplot]

Riye (A Favor) - Alpha-17/f!Reader fic

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Third installment of my Alpha-17/fem!reader fic!

Word-Count: 3,100

Warnings: aggressive flirtation, Alpha is rude.

---

You carefully straightened the neckline of your shirt, eyes on the refresher mirror. It might be silly, but today marked a full month since you had come to Kamino, and you wanted to look your best.

Your outfit had survived the morning, despite a meeting with several Kaminoans who wanted updates on your progress. You had been able to deliver good news - that you were right on schedule - but a sense of doubt overshadowed any triumph you might have felt. The first deadline had been met, but the next one promised to step up the workload, and you were already feeling overwhelmed at the idea.

Still, you were determined to push the negativity out of your mind. You would figure out a better schedule to complete the work later. Today was a celebration.

The bad thing about taking more care with your appearance was that it attracted more attention than usual from the cadets. You had politely turned away two different groups of young men by the time Alpha was due to arrive in the cafeteria. Another cadet - alone, this time - was doing his best to keep from being dismissed as well.

"Was it raining when you came in, ma’am?" he asked, leaning over you. "I have flight drills after this and it gets even more dangerous in the rain."

You did your best not to smile at the obvious way he was hinting about being a pilot. "You know, I think it was raining the last time I was near a window," you told him, voice grave.

"Then I'm going to need some luck to survive," he said dramatically, flashing you a smile he clearly hoped would be charming. "I've heard a kiss from a beautiful woman is a good start. What do you think? It might help me survive the afternoon."

"I wouldn't count on it," a dark voice warned.

The cadet stood as straight as possible as Alpha approached. The captain brushed your new pilot friend aside with a twist of his armored shoulders and sat down. He proceeded to start eating, ignoring the cadet completely.

Any other cadet would have backed away, thankful that Alpha hadn't decided to throw them directly into the oceans of Kamino, but this one was more determined than most.

He winked at you from behind Alpha's head. "By the way, my name is-"

"She doesn't want to know your name," Alpha told him. "Get out of here before I decide that I want to know it."

"Very flattering, Captain," the cadet said cheekily. "But Jango's face isn't the one I want to wake up to, yeah?"

Alpha swallowed his mouthful of food and deliberately set his fork aside, standing slowly from the table. He drew up to his full height before turning around. He was taller than the cadet, forcing the younger man to look up.

"Now I'm extremely interested," Alpha said slowly, his slow and methodical voice dripping with menace. "What's your designation?"

Behind him, you winced. You hated how glaringly obvious it was that the Kaminoans considered these men products. Also, this cadet might die in front of you and that would almost certainly ruin your ability to eat in the cafeteria anymore.

"CT-7115," the cadet said with a grin.

"Ah, part of Zackra Trem's group." Alpha raised his comlink. "Trem."

"Alpha," a female voice returned immediately.

"I've got one of your pilot cadets here in the cafeteria. 7115."

"Broadside," Trem said, clearly recognizing the number. "He's one of my best, Alpha. Don't break him too badly."

"No promises," Alpha replied, turning slightly back toward Broadside. Since you were seated directly behind Alpha, you couldn't see his expression yourself, but it was enough to make Broadside's grin slip for the first time.

"I'll make you a deal," Trem offered. "I'll give him hell here and then send him back to you tonight. I'm sure he could help you demonstrate something unpleasant to your ARCs."

Alpha considered that for a long moment while Broadside shifted uncomfortably. Eventually, he conceded, "That works."

Trem laughed. "Do I even wanna know what he did to you?"

"Harassed an uninterested female."

The laughter emanating from the comlink's speakers cut off abruptly. "In that case, I think we should coordinate punishments. I'll be in touch, Captain."

The transmission cut off suddenly and Alpha looked at Broadside once more. "You had best get to your training, son."

Broadside, looking suddenly concerned, nodded and hurried away. “What was that?” you asked quietly when Alpha had sat down across from you once more.

“I told his superior officer about his behavior.”

“What more than that?” you pressed.

Alpha grinned suddenly, and it was half a snarl. “It just so happens that his superior officer is Zackra Trem. It’s not my story to tell, but she’s got more reason than most to hate that kind of osik behavior.”

You could very well guess the rest of that story. Your heart twisted for Trem, though you had never met her. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Nice, but she wouldn’t appreciate the sentiment,” Alpha told you, not unkindly. “Feel sorry for your little pilot. She’s a Weequay who ran with Mandalorians for the past few decades. Whatever she makes him do, it won’t be pleasant.”

You chuckled at that, trying not to actually feel sorry for Broadside. In the time you had been hanging around Alpha, most of the cadets had eased up a bit on flirting, but every now and then, someone crossed the line.

Alpha picked his fork up again and shot you an intense look. “Why are you dressed like that?”

Though your immediate instinct was to be embarrassed about being overdressed, even mildly, you rolled your eyes at him. “Anything looks like too much when everyone else wears uniforms all of the time. Remember that day I wore a necklace?”

“Yeah, I remember,” Alpha said, snorting. “A necklace. What are you, a Senator?”

“Your ideas of fancy clothing are extremely skewed, I hope you know that,” you told him, adjusting your collar again.

“Hazards of the job,” Alpha replied with a casual shrug as he returned his focus to his food. “Looks okay, though.”

You paused, staring openly at him. Had Alpha just complimented you? Surely not… The universe wouldn’t survive such unexpected behavior, not without signs that space was collapsing in on itself.

Alpha noticed you watching him and lifted an eyebrow in question while he chewed. You just shook your head and applied yourself to your own lunch, avoiding his curious eyes. Explaining your thought process there would be an intensive effort, especially if your goal was to keep him from being uncomfortable.

Fortunately, avoiding Alpha’s eyes let you notice the approaching cadet sooner than your companion did, and you had time to brace yourself before the young man - even younger than you were used to seeing - opened his mouth.

“Excuse me-”

“Kriff,” Alpha said loudly, dark brows crashing down over his eyes. “Go away, kid. I’ve already ruined one cadet’s day and I have no problem adding to the list. She doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“N-no, sir, of course not,” the cadet told him, nodding respectfully at you as he went on. “I wanted to talk to you. Is it true you served with General Kenobi?”

"What?" Alpha asked, sounding uncertain for the first time since you had met him. You quirked your brows, unsure of whether to be amused or concerned.

"General Kenobi," the cadet repeated. "And General Skywalker, too! I heard you went on a mission with both of them. What was it like?"

"Look, kid, I don't have time to answer all your questions about Jedi-"

"That's fine!" the cadet told him. "I already know everything there is to know about the Jedi. I want to know more about your experience, specifically."

The muscles in Alpha's jaw flexed and you quickly interrupted. "What's your name?"

"Dogma, ma'am," the cadet told you, making an apologetic face. "I know names are against regulations, but my batchers won't stop calling me that. My designation is CT-4287."

“Nice to meet you, Dogma,” you said politely.

Dogma's cheeks darkened and he gave a tight nod. "You too, ma'am."

"Stop flirting with the poor boy," Alpha chided and you gaped at the captain. So much for trying to help him.

"Dogma, I'm sure Captain Alpha would love to answer any question you have," you told the young cadet, grinning triumphantly at Alpha.

"Wait," Alpha ordered, catching at your wrist before you could stand up. His hand was ridiculously huge and you found yourself shackled by his gentle grip. "You haven't finished eating."

You grinned wider at him, slipping your wrist out from between his fingers. "I'll take it with me. Have fun, you two!"

Dogma gave a half-hearted wave while Alpha glared.

---

The rest of the afternoon was spent locked away in your office, working on the second major project you had to complete. Your concerns about the deadline were unfortunately proving correct. The icy grip of stress and fear were squeezing your heart, and you were honestly relieved when someone knocked on the door of your office.

“One moment!” you called to the unseen visitor, but they didn’t seem to hear you. Instead, they continued to pound on the door until you opened it. You were unsurprised to see Alpha on the other side, glowering down at you.

“You’re mean for a nat-born,” he grumbled, brushing you aside as he pushed into the office.

After letting the door slide closed once more, you followed him over to your desk and plopped down in your chair. Rather than sit in one of the chairs opposite you, Alpha leaned his hip against the side of your desk, much closer than you were comfortable with.

In a show of belligerence, you crossed your arms and lifted your chin as you replied, “Serves you right for being rude about my outfit.”

“I didn’t say anything bad about your clothes!” Alpha denied, befuddled.

“Yeah, well, you didn’t say anything nice about them, either,” you argued childishly, conveniently forgetting his half-compliment at lunch.

Alpha frowned. “You want me to… talk about clothing with you?”

Well. Put that way, it did sound a little silly. Of all of the things you were sure Alpha did well, deep discussions about fashion might be beyond him. Honestly, they might be beyond you, too. You sighed. “No, I don’t want you to talk about clothing with me, but I was trying to look nice today. I put a lot of effort into this.”

“I don’t understand why,” Alpha said. “You look… fine… every other day.”

“Fine,” you repeated dryly. “Thanks, I was going for fine.”

“I don’t understand what I did wrong.” You were able to hear the growing frustration in his voice. “What do you want me to do?”

“Maybe don’t act like I’m wearing a ballgown to work if I show up wearing a necklace!”

“What is a ballgown?”

You stared at Alpha, the simple question making your brain screech to a halt. It was like a chasm had opened between you, and it made you reconsider a few things. Since you had arrived on Kamino, you had treated the clone troopers as if they were people you might meet out in the galaxy, but that wasn’t exactly true. You still believed that they were people - of course you did - but you were only just coming to realize how different they were from anyone you had ever met. While the troopers shared their own experiences on Kamino and had been trained to be perfect soldiers by the time they shipped out, they were startlingly young by the standards of the rest of the galaxy.

“You know what? It doesn’t matter.” You fiddled with one of the many datapads littering your desk rather than meet Alpha’s intense gaze. “I am sorry for siccing Dogma on you, though.”

“You should be,” he growled. “He asked ten questions before I could shake him off. Ten!”

“Wow, that’s what? Five days worth of questions?” you teased.

“Five days for you,” Alpha told you seriously. “For anyone else, that’s more than I would ever answer.”

You were unreasonably touched by the reminder that Alpha let you learn things about him that no one else would ever know. Moved by a sudden surge of warmth for the ARC captain, you repeated your prior sentiment, but more fervently. “In that case, I honestly apologize for unleashing Dogma. If there’s anything I can do to make him back off, please let me know.”

Alpha’s stare was level and unwavering. “Yeah?”

“Of course,” you agreed immediately, not understanding what a wildly stupid idea that was. That was fine - you would learn… and it didn’t take long.

That night at dinner, Alpha came in and sat across from you, but instead of starting the meal in silence, he leaned across the table slightly to get your attention. Lowly, he asked, “Are you still willing to help me with Dogma?”

“Yes,” you agreed simply. “Do you have a plan?”

“Yeah. Flirt with me.”

You fought not to react visibly to that. Carefully keeping your face blank and your voice flat, you replied, “What.”

He leaned even closer, eyes lit with excitement. “I’ve been threatening and trying to alienate Dogma all day, but the only time he was uncomfortable was when you flirted with him.”

“I didn’t flirt with him!” you reminded him. “I just said it was nice to meet him.”

“Fine,” Alpha conceded. “We’ll just have to do better than that if we’re going to convince him to leave me alone.”

Abruptly feeling like this was the worst idea anyone had ever had, you tried to speak in your own defense. “Alpha, I don’t think this is a good idea-”

“You said you would help me,” he reminded firmly. “He’ll be here in a minute. I need your answer.”

Your heart was pounding, one of many warnings that this was a bad idea, but you nodded anyway. Alpha smiled - he actually smiled - and the expression looked menacing on his face. “Good.”

In a moment, he had circled the table to sit beside you, his huge frame making you feel ridiculously tiny in comparison. He wasn't wearing any armor at all now, and you could feel the heat of his skin through what little space there was between you.

You tried not to obviously tense as he spoke next to your ear. "There he is, get ready."

Impossibly, Alpha managed to get closer to you, tugging behind your knee slightly so that you were angled toward him. When he had finished posing you, Alpha’s large hand lifted to cradle your face. His fingers brushed over your cheekbone before trailing down to your jaw.

"My little neverd," he murmured to you, face filled with affection.

You didn't have to feign embarrassment at the warmth in his tone matched with the intense eye contact he was giving you. When you replied, you tried not to sound squeaky but only managed to sound shaky instead. "You know Mando'a is my weakness."

He laughed, a low chuckle that sent delicious chills running over your skin. “Why do you think I use it?”

“Alpha…” you chided, managing to sound mildly flirtatious.

“Come on, little one,” he urged you, voice velvet in a way you hadn’t known it could be. “Let’s go back to your- Ah, one moment, neverd. Dogma, sit down.”

You looked over to see Dogma standing at the other side of the table. You had never even noticed, your entire focus narrowed down to Alpha. Dogma looked as embarrassed as you felt. While you were focused on Dogma, Alpha’s arm snaked around you, pressing against your waist to pull you flush against his side. Your face flamed and Dogma glanced away.

“Sir, I- I’m sorry, I forgot I’m on duty tonight,” Dogma muttered, speaking so quickly it was difficult to understand him.

“Sorry to hear that, cadet,” Alpha replied gravely, flexing his fingers against your side. It made you push a little closer to him in reflex, the tip of your nose brushing the space under his jaw as you tried to look up at him. Alpha shivered, and you weren’t sure how much of the motion was acting. “Maybe later.”

Dogma gave an awkward nod and hurried off.

Alpha started laughing even before he let you go, his muscular chest shaking against your shoulder. After a moment that felt like it had stretched an hour, he pulled his arm back and slid away a bit. You immediately felt the loss of his closeness and suddenly you were horribly uncertain of what expression you were wearing. Just in case it said more than you wanted it to, you looked back at the entrance of the cafeteria.

“I feel bad,” you admitted.

"Don't," Alpha advised, looking toward the door as well. “He’ll be fine. He’s a good soldier, just a little…”

He trailed off, apparently content to let his thought stay incomplete. You glanced over to him with an eyebrow raised, but his eyes were fixed on the door. “You can see every access point in the room from here.”

“That is why I chose this spot,” you agreed.

“Switch with me tomorrow.”

“Not a chance,” you refused. “This is my spot.”

“Then I hope you like sitting next to me,” Alpha told you. Surprised, you laughed up at him and he met your eyes. “You know, I’ve never seen anyone blush on cue.”

“Hidden talent,” you explained vaguely. Alpha didn’t seem convinced, so you changed the subject. “What does neverd mean?”

“Civilian.”

You laughed before you could stop yourself. “Civilian? That’s what you used as a term of endearment?”

Alpha blinked blankly at you. “What’s wrong with it? You are a civilian.”

“Yes, but,” you thought over it for a second, “-it’s not very romantic. Usually, people say things like ‘dear’ or ‘sweetheart’.”

“How should I have known that?” Alpha asked.

It was the ballgown situation all over again, and more than you were willing to tackle that day. “Well, some warning before you want me to go undercover would be helpful.”

Alpha snorted. “How much warning do you need?”

You pretended to consider that for a moment. “Two business days, minimum.”

He frowned fiercely. “If you get two full days of warning, I expect more. I need you to show up in a disguise with three different accents ready.”

“Harsh terms,” you told him with a smile. “With those negotiation skills, you’d make a great senator."

Alpha gave you the darkest scowl you had ever seen him muster. “Watch it, neverd.”

Idly, you wondered if Alpha would protect you from himself, but the amused glimmer in his dark eyes told you it would be unnecessary.

---

A/N - Pretty sure Broadside is wildly OOC, my bad. Also, sorry for the weird image for this chapter. I didn't really want the text bubbles in there, but I needed to keep Alpha's sassy hip lean.

Taglist - @imabeautifulbutterfly @cagrame @mysticalturtleenthusiast @marvel-starwars-nerd @lackofhonor

[ltwilliammowett]

How the USS Constitution got her nickname

The first major naval battle of the War of 1812 was between the USS Constitution, 54 guns, commanded by Captain Isaac Hull, and the HMS British Guerriere,44 guns, commanded by Captain James Richard Dacres. The two ships were classed as frigates and were similarly armed. The event took place on 19 August 1812. Now the two knew each other from an event that had taken place a few weeks earlier. The Guerriere was one of the ships of a British squadron that Hull and his crew had overtaken a few weeks earlier, leading to a race from which Constitution successfully escaped.

USS Constitution vs. HMS Guerriere, by Patrick O’Brien (x)

But now the two were alone and the Guerriere came within a mile of the Constitution, hoisted her flag and fired a broadside, but the cannonballs missed their target.

The crew asked Hull for permission to return fire, but he refused, not wanting to waste the first broadside. Soon, however, the Constitution pushed alongside her opponent and Hull gave the order to fire. The battle began. The Constitution's thick hull, made of white oak planks and oak frames, proved resistant to enemy cannonballs. During the battle, an American sailor was heard to exclaim: "Huzza! Her sides are made of iron! Look where the shot came out!"

In a letter written to Secretary of the Navy, Captain Hull (Captain Hull's account appears in: Grant Bruce, Isaac Hull, Captain of Old Ironsides (1947, reprinted in Angle, Paul The American Reader, 1958); Forester, C.S., The Age of Fighting Sail; the Story of the Naval War of 1812)  describes what happened as the Constitution continued to close with its enemy:

As we bore up, she hoisted an English Ensign at the mizzen gaff, another in the mizzen shrouds, and a Jack at the fore, and mizzen top gallant mast heads. At 5 minutes past 5 p.m. as we were running down on her weather quarter, she fired a broadside but without effect the shot all falling short. She then wore and gave us a broadside from her port guns, two of which struck us but without doing any injury.

At this time finding we were within gunshot...The enemy continued wearing, and maneuvering for about 1/2 of an hour, to get the wind of us. At length finding that she could not, she bore up to bring the wind on the quarter and run under her topsails, and jib. Finding that we came up very slow, and were receiving her shot without being able to return them with effect, I ordered the main top gallant sail set, to run up alongside of her.

At 5 minutes past 6 p.m. being alongside, and within less than pistol shot, we commenced a very heavy fire from all our guns, loaded with round, and grape, which was done with great execution, so much so that in less than fifteen minutes from the time, we got alongside, his mizzen mast went by the board, and his main yard in the slings and the hull and sails very much injured, which made it difficult for them to manage her.

USS Constitution vs. HMS Guerriere, by Anton Otto Fischer date unknown (x)

As the ships clashed, boarding parties were formed, and Lieutenant William Sharp Bush, commander of the Constitution's naval command, took the initiative. Sword in hand, he leapt onto the rail and shouted to Hull, "Shall I board her?" No sooner had he uttered the words than a musket ball struck him in the cheek, killing him instantly. Seeing Bush fall, Lieutenant Charles Morris jumped in his place, but he too was badly wounded by a bullet to the abdomen. On board the Guerriere, Captain Dacres was seriously wounded when an American musket ball hit him in the back. Before either side could regroup, the two ships were torn apart. The badly damaged Guerriere was forced to surrender.

I ordered a boat hoisted out and sent Lieutenant Reed on board as to see whether she had surrendered or not, and if she had to see what assistance she wanted, as I believed she was sinking.

Lieutenant Reed returned in about twenty minutes, and brought with him James Richard Dacres Esq. Commander of his Britannic Majesty's Frigate the Guerriere, which ship had surrendered to the United States Frigate Constitution.

Frégate Américaine La Constitution Prenant à L'abordage La Frégate Anglaise La Guerriere, by Valnest after Stradonwort; c.1814 (x)

Throughout the night the Americans tended to the wounded and dead and transferred the British prisoners of war and their belongings to the Constitution. By morning it was clear that the Guerriere was beyond saving, and Hull made the difficult decision to sink the ship by detonating the gunpowder in the magazines. The Constitution sailed with the prisoners to Boston, where she arrived on 30 August. Through this battle and the exclamation that her hull is made of iron. She was given the nickname Old Ironsides. 

[littlemissmanga]

LittleMissManga Fic Masterlist

My entire blog is 18+ so minors begone! The asterisk (*) denotes explicit 18+ material. Please read responsibly. If it isn't for you, I got plenty of SFW content.

So far, I've only written for Star Wars, the clones in particular, including Rex and various 501st members, The Bad Batch members, Hound, Wolffe, Cody and Boba Fett.

Requests are closed!

I'm taking a small step back so I can recharge. I'll still be lurking and hopefully working a bit on WIPs, just without the self-imposed pressure to get them done quickly. If you've sent anything in, know that I am working on it! This includes all the First Kiss Prompts.

NSFW requests are OK and welcome, but please no gore, major character death, romantic/mature relationships between padawans and adults, or clonecest.

If you'd like to be tagged in future fics, you can join my taglist :)

Random Clone Shenanigans

Clone of the Month Calendar

Tooka Interviews

Dad jokes/puns

Threesome Choice* (Rex, Jesse, Wrecker, Crosshair)

TBB Meets Sailor Moon Crack

How the 501st & BB Boys Handle a Reader with Chronic Pain

Hound

Hound Thots (SFW above, NSFW under the cut)

Broadside

Maybe Among the Stars

Rex

One Last Order Part 1, Part 2* (only part 2 is spicy).

Did He Hurt You?

Date Night Pt 1

A Little Something Sweet for Breakfast

Jesse

Kiss Prompt

"Just Lay Back and Let Me Take Care of You"*

Why Is There Rope Next to the Bed?*

Hardcase

"I'm Trying to Be Sexy and You're Laughing!" (SFW but alludes to intimacy)

Fives

"Seems Like Someone Likes Being Praised"*

Dogma

Date Night Pt 3

Date Night Pt 4

Echo

The Promise In Your Eyes

Why Echo is the best smelling clone trooper (HC)

"Seems Like Someone Likes Being Praised"*

A Teasing Echo*

Bittersweet (HC)

Spicy Echo Thot*

Wedding Speech

Tell Me*

Crosshair

Don't Forget That, Okay?

"He Was Staring At Your Ass ... And That Ass Is Mine." (SFW, but implied impact play).

Song of the Caged Bird (1/3)

Song of the Caged Bird (2/3) TK

Song of the Caged Bird (3/3) TK

What Are You Wearing?

Tech

Spicy Tech Thot - Cerebral Stimulation*

Why Now? - TK

A Mechanic in the Sun

Tech & Non-Verbal Reader

"That's the Most Attractive Thing I've Seen in My Life"*

"Looks Like Someone Likes Being Praised"*

A Little Awkward Never Killed Nobody

Home for the Holidays With You

Wrecker

A Man What Takes His Time*

"Are You Wearing My Shirt?"*

Wrecker Headcanon Asks* (SFW above the cut, NSFW under)

Wrecker Spa Day HCs

Spicy Games Thots*

Rainy Day Comforts

When Wrecker Gets Comfortable Thot (Not spicy, but there's definitely heat)

The Slow Stretch*

Hunter

"That Is the Most Attractive Thing I've Seen in My Life"

Cody

Date Night Pt 2*

Boil

The Once and Future Brother

Wolffe

Wolffe Thots* (SFW above the read more, NSFW under the read more)

"Just Lay Back and Let Me Take Care of You"*

Boba Fett

The Daimyo's Princess

My OCs (Star Wars)

Yen Ori'ken (You can read more about her in Date Night)

SFW Alphabet

NSFW Alphabet

Yen x Wolffe/Yen x Kix hcs

Yen x Cody hcs

Yen x Echo hcs

Yen x Wrecker hcs

CT-2460, Clone Pilot Corkscrew, AKA Cor

Intro & SFW Alphabet

(I don't know why this last link isn't working so I'm putting it here, too)

[just-another-blog-of-fluff]

Vulnerability

Word count: 10,100

Pairing: Loki x f!reader (pre-dating/romantic)

Warnings: violence, injury, strained past relationship with father/past verbal abuse, mourning of past loss of a parent, later gets kind of steamy (but SFW)

This was a really interesting and fun piece to write! 💚💚 I sort of love the relationship between Loki and the reader in this one 😍

Based on a few prompts: one prompt where reader has tattoos that she keeps hidden for sentimental reasons (with an added mini prompt suggestion), and another Prompt where reader doesn’t like her laugh because it’s too cute for someone who is a tough Avenger, and Loki seeks to prove it doesn’t matter.

PLEASE check out the warnings first - there's some sort of heavy content in this fic compared to most of my usual work. As always, completely SFW though!

"Steve - watch your six!"

"Got it!"

Clang.

The offending SPECTER soldier met the unforgiving edge of the iconic vibranium shield, his blaster sent catapulting from his hands as the force of the blow propelled him to the ground. Steve's blue eyes met yours for only a moment, the captain offering you a nod of thanks before you both dove back into the chaos.

A soldier rushed at you from your right. A swift planting of your non-dominant foot into the ground allowed you to aim a roundhouse kick at him before he could get his hands on you. The blow to the gut sent him reeling despite the armor covering his torso, a shout of surprised frustration barking out from beneath his black mask.

They always underestimated you. It was both a blessing and a curse.

Behind you, four more SPECTER soldiers fell victim to the broadside of Mjolnir, a lethal swinging blur in the hand of the God of Thunder. By his side, Loki effortlessly took down another three, the sharp edges of his blades finding the nearly imperceptible points of vulnerability within the soldiers' armor.

"Hey Rambo - there's an opening up ahead. We gotta get in there," Tony's voice ordered in your ear. Your eyes flitted up to the door to the research facility, catching the end result of Nat tackling a soldier to the ground as she wrestled his blaster from his hand. There was indeed a clear path, free from the hordes of soldiers still locked in combat with the other Avengers.

"Roger that." You took off sprinting toward the door, boots slamming rhythmically against the ground as you raced to catch up with the blur of red and gold metal that whizzed past your head. A blue flash of light blasted straight across your path, halting you in your tracks as a soldier opened fire at you from your left. Sunlight glinted against twirling metal just before one of Loki's daggers found its home in the soldier's abdomen, just below the breastplate of his armor. Whipping around, you saw Loki dashing in the same direction you were headed, shooting you a wink as he passed.

"You're welcome!" he called back to you. You raced after him with your renewed goal of storming the facility, scoffing as you caught up to him.

"I could've taken him!" you shot back with a grin.

"Oh, I'm certain of that."

That handsome smirk of his crossed his face, the one that always gave off the sense that he was withholding some snide or flirty comment, and you swiftly returned your attention to the door ahead of you. You couldn't be getting distracted by that in the heat of battle.

The door had already been blown open by a blast - courtesy of Tony Stark - and you and Loki ducked inside, with Bucky hot on your heels to assist. The foyer was teeming with more SPECTER soldiers dressed in black armor and black masks, already engaged in battle with Tony as he zoomed around dodging their fire and blasting right back with his outstretched palms.

Clouds of smoke billowed up around the room from the relentless blaster fire as you three late arrivals jumped into battle. Bucky's vibranium arm took hits without a scratch, and he used it as a personal shield as he charged at a cluster of three soldiers. You dove to the floor as blaster fire sailed over your head, somersaulting elegantly to a crouched position and sweeping the legs out from under the nearest soldier. Pushing yourself up onto your feet, you hooked an arm around the neighboring soldier's neck and wrenched him to the ground.

A second's lull in the attacks aimed toward you (the least threatening of the four of you present in the building by their standards) gave you the chance to glance around in search of the central communications hub. Straight ahead, a long hallway led straight to a set of double doors, behind which you could only hope was the room you were searching for.

"Checking the hallway, twelve o'clock," you muttered into your comms device as you took off in a sprint toward your destination.

"Roger that, Rambo," Tony's voice responded promptly, the echoes of the blasts bursting around the room resounding in the background. "Meet me there in sixty seconds."

You ducked low as you ran, making yourself as small as possible to evade fire. A soldier stepped out in front of you, blaster aimed straight at your face. You dodged right at the last second, the heat of the blast grazing your ear as you grabbed hold of his wrist and slammed your other forearm down against his, disarming him. You heard a shout and a thud behind you, pivoting just in time to see Loki driving his boot into another enemy's chest. You used the apparent distraction to yank on the wrist of the soldier who'd nearly blasted your head off, throwing him face-first to the floor. Loki ran by your side, completing the last leg of the sprint to the end of the hallway just as Tony unceremoniously blew the doors open.

Inside was, thankfully, a vast control panel of computers and radars that clearly indicated this was the communications hub you'd been searching for. You approached the central computer as Tony landed beside you, removing his Iron Man armor and setting it to sentry mode.

"Loki - be a dear and watch the door, will you?" you asked with mock sweetness. He rolled his eyes, grinning all the same at your cheek.

"Take your time, agent."

You got to work immediately, fingers flying furiously across the holographic keyboard as you worked your hacking magic on the enemy's electronics. A good fight was always a thrill, but this was the sort of work you really lived for. It was so satisfying, breaking past the flimsy firewalls and supposedly secure passcodes to enter into a sea of data, all available at your fingertips. Except you weren't seeking to take data this time. You were seeking to erase it.

Tony hovered over your shoulder, pointing irritatingly at the screen in front of you as though you didn't already know what you were looking for. "There - that's the SHIELD files."

"Seriously? For a group that prides themselves on being 'unseen and unheard,' seems like a rookie mistake saving your stolen files in your main hard drive..." you muttered tauntingly, making quick work of deleting the file from existence.

"Alright, good to go?" Tony urged.

"Stark - you know as well as I that we need to do a sweep to ensure there's no traces of data anywhere else in the system," you chastised, making a few additional clicks to scan the intranet.

"Remind me why I didn't decide to call you 'cyberpunk?'" Tony quipped. You glanced at him with a slight turn of your head, a half-smirk crossing your face.

"Because you know I'm a force to be reckoned with."

"Fair point. That, and you're crazy."

"Also a fair point."

"STOP!"

A hollering voice sounded, not from the door, but from the corner of the room. Your eyes flitted upward just in time to see a soldier aim his blaster straight at you. Above him, an open vent told you exactly how he’d slipped past your defenses. Unable to dodge quickly enough, you at least managed to turn your body sideways and minimize the impact as the fiery bullet skimmed across your lower ribs on its trajectory past you. Had you not twisted when you did, it most definitely would have burned a hole through your chest. Instead, it singed a hole in your shirt, sending a blinding, searing pain deep into your skin as it burned from the heat of the blast.

With a hiss of pain, your hands shot to the wound as you doubled over. Loki was on the soldier almost instantly, sending him crashing to the ground. Tony took over at the keyboard to complete the last of the sweep as Loki rushed to your side.

"You're injured."

"Yeah, no shit," you grunted through gritted teeth. Turning to Tony, you barked, "Finish scanning the system yet?"

"Just... about... done!" he responded triumphantly.

"Find anything?"

His face dropped into a scowl. "None of your business."

You snickered. "What would you do without me?"

"Yeah, yeah..." Tony activated the Iron Man suit, the metal pieces slamming in formation onto his body like a magnet. "Let's get you outta here, Rambo."

You waved him off dismissively, swallowing the gasp of pain that leapt up in your throat as you stood up straighter. "I'm fine. Let's go."

The jolting motion of each step sent a fresh wave of sharp pain through your wound, but you'd learned not to let it reflect on your face.

To show pain is to show weakness.

Your father always told you that growing up. No matter how many hits you took, he'd never let you so much as wince without reprimanding you. It was just one of the many harsh aspects of his training that you'd carried with you over the years. You supposed he had gotten you where you were, so he couldn't be blamed for his militaristic training methods.

The battle raged on in the foyer with what remained of the SPECTER soldiers guarding the interior. Loki notably stepped out ahead of you the moment you crossed through the doorway into the foyer, but you shoved your way past him to engage with a nearby soldier. You weren't going to let him shield you like that - not while you were still standing.

If you can stand, you can fight.

Your father's words once again echoed in your head. And fight, you would. Shoving the pain out of the forefront of your mind, you swung your fist in a right hook at the soldier's head, making him stumble from the impact. A hand closed around your forearm, and you nearly slapped it away before you realized it was Bucky's.

"Don't be stupid. You're injured," he scolded, gesturing to the hole seared into your shirt where your skin had been burned. You scowled, ripping your arm from his grasp.

"So I've been told. I'll be fine."

To appease your teammates, you at least began heading for the door, fighting only when necessary if a soldier hindered your progress. Tony had already jetted out, likely working to flag down the helicarrier so you could make your escape. The adrenaline of battle ebbed away at the pain, allowing you to focus on getting the hell out of there now that your mission had been completed. It seemed these SPECTER soldiers were in infinite supply - you may have been fierce, but you weren't foolish enough to think the band of heroes would be able to take down every last one of them.

Loki and Bucky were hot on your heels as you burst through the entryway to the building. Steve, Nat, and Thor were looking battle worn, Steve with a laceration to his forehead and Nat with a small burn on her shoulder where a blast likely grazed her skin. They both eyed your wound with concern, making you roll your eyes at the two of them.

"I'm fine!" you shouted as you slammed your heel into an oncoming soldier. "Let's go - the data's erased."

The deafening hum of the helicarrier approached your position as the aircraft appeared in the sky in front of you. The team bolted in unison toward it, ducking under blaster fire as the SPECTER soldiers followed in hot pursuit. The helicarrier hovered low enough to the ground to let out the boarding ramp, allowing the seven of you to hop on before rising into the sky once more. The sound of blaster fire faded into the distance as the aircraft carried you out of firing range.

Bruce appeared at the top of the boarding ramp, looking somewhat anxious with his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose and his graying brown curls mussed from dragging his own fingers through them repeatedly. Tony was the first to greet him, confirming that the mission had been successful.

"Now, take this one. She's injured," he ordered, pointing at you.

"Hey!" You scowled indignantly. "I'm just fine!"

"Your skin is torched," Steve argued, taking Tony's side. "Go. Get patched up."

"Ugh. Fine." You dragged your feet as you began to follow Bruce to the lab onboard the aircraft. Glancing back, you shouted, "Steve, you and Nat better come with. I'm not the only one who's injured."

Rolling their eyes, the pair of them followed along, knowing you would refuse help if they did.

Entering the lab, you were met with three of the team's medics who were prepared to treat your wounds. They took one look at you, deciding immediately that you would require the most intensive treatment of the three wounded and leading you to the skin regeneration table on board the ship. You reluctantly sat down on the edge of the table, glaring up skeptically at the medic who had taken on your treatment.

"I'll need you to remove your shirt," she instructed, busying herself at the control panel to the machine. Your heart jumped up into your throat at the suggestion.

"I'd rather not."

She glanced up from the computer, peering sternly at you over her spectacles. "How exactly do you propose we treat your burn, then?"

"Uh... you don't." You folded your arms defiantly across your chest. "It's just a surface wound. I'm fine."

The medic paced impatiently over to your side, kneeling down and inspecting the burn on your ribs. She clicked her tongue, shaking her head at your stubbornness. "This will quickly get infected if we do not treat it. Not to mention, it must be very painful."

"I can handle pain," you muttered bitterly under your breath. She gave you a hard look, and you threw your hands up in defeat. "Fine. Go finish programming your little machine, there."

It wasn't that you were trying to be difficult. Your mother had been a medic, so you had quite a bit of respect for their job. It was how she met your father, in fact. She’d been a SHIELD medic until her untimely death when you were only ten years old. Your father never forgave himself for not being there when the enemy stormed aboard the helicarrier that fateful day. He seemed to sort of snap after that, throwing all his efforts into his work, into training you to follow in his footsteps.

You reminded him of her, he always used to say. You wondered if that was the reason he treated you the way he did - pained by the constant memory of what he’d lost.

The real reason you were protesting so much was what was hidden underneath your shirt. Over the years, you’d accumulated a fair number of tattoos, each one easily hidden beneath your clothes and gear. It wasn’t that you were embarrassed by them - you were quite proud of them, actually - but many of them had a deep underlying meaning that you really weren’t interested in trying to explain to your teammates. It was difficult to talk about some of them. So you chose to keep them hidden, keep them close to you as a personal sentiment rather than wearing them openly as a badge of honor.

The walls of the lab were made completely of glass, which meant anyone outside of the room could easily peek inside and see you. If you made too big of a deal of it, inevitably passerby would recognize you were arguing and become more interested. So, instead, you tried to play it cool, grasping the hem of your shirt and pulling it up and over your head. You had to carefully lift it around the burn to avoid irritating it with the fabric scraping across it. Goosebumps erupted on your skin in response to the cool air of the lab as you laid down on the table in nothing but your sport bra covering your upper body. You tried not to look down at the ink staining your skin to avoid drawing attention to the markings.

The medic started up the machine, and you watched impatiently as it sprang into motion, a strip of blue light kissing the wound as your skin knit itself back together. It didn't hurt, exactly, but it wasn't the most comfortable sensation either. The biggest annoyance, though, was how long it was taking to finish. Your eyes kept flitting over to the glass wall beside you, waiting for the inevitable moment someone passed by and saw you lying there on the table with nothing to cover the colorful markings etched into your skin.

Sure enough, Loki appeared on the other side of the glass twenty minutes later.

You couldn't blame him - he probably wanted to be certain you were alright, and it was taking an awfully long time to get this wound treated. In a way, you were somewhat flattered he'd come looking for you. But when his eyes locked on your bare left side, only partially blocked by your arm, skimming over the dragon tattoo that graced your ribs, you could see the curiosity flash on his face.

For a moment, he appeared to be considering entering the lab to talk to you, to inevitably ask the questions you'd been dreading. Fortunately, the medic caught his eye, shooing him with a wave of her hand as she drew the curtain hanging beside the regeneration table to block his view.

You wished you'd noticed it was there sooner.

It took another ten minutes to heal the wound completely, a raw-looking patch of new skin left in its place. The medic inspected her work with an air of pride before finally releasing you. The moment she did, you tugged your shirt back on over your head. With a hasty ‘thank you,’ you scurried out of the lab to your quarters to replace your singed shirt with a new one.

“Are you alright?”

You shouldn’t have been as surprised to hear Loki’s voice in your doorway as you were. Glancing up as you straightened the hem of your clean shirt at your hips, you were met with a concerned-looking Asgardian, though he was clearly trying to hide it. That was one thing you appreciated most about Loki - he never spoke to you or looked at you as a fragile mortal. He learned early on how fierce you could truly be.

“All healed,” you replied with a smile. “That regeneration tech is really something.”

Loki scoffed. “We’ve no need for that sort of thing in Asgard.”

“Well some of us aren’t literal gods, Loki.”

“Ah, but you fight as though you’re immortal like one.”

There it was - that teasing little smirk of his, his blue-green eyes flashing with the internal knowledge that there was something else going through his head that he wasn’t saying out loud. You tried not to let the heat creep up in your face.

“You were awfully nosy earlier, peeking in on me getting fixed up,” you chastised teasingly. “You know, we have privacy rules in Midgardian medicine.”

“I couldn’t help myself. You’ve never shown that much skin before. Forgive me for being… intrigued.”

Ok, the heat was definitely settling in your cheeks now.

“What was that marking you have on your side?”

Ah. There it was, the inevitable question.

“It’s a tattoo,” you responded casually, breaking eye contact to look down at your hands.

“A tattoo?”

“Yes. Ink etched into skin. A sort of art form here on Midgard.”

You chanced a glance up at him, finding a genuinely curious expression on his face. It made you shift uneasily in your seat atop your bed.

“Might I see it?”

You winced, turning your head. “I’d rather not.”

“I apologize. I didn’t intend for it to sound inappropriate.”

Looking back toward him, you offered a weak smile. “No, it’s not that.” With a chuckle, you added, “When have you known me to be self-conscious?”

Loki grinned. “Never. Though, as I said - you’ve never shown that much skin before.”

You let out a slow breath. “It’s just… well, I don’t like to talk about them. My tattoos.”

“Do you not like them?”

“No, I do. It’s… they’re sort of personal to me.”

He nodded slowly, that smirk returning to his face. “Perhaps someday you’ll feel comfortable showing me?”

“Are you asking for me to get personal with you?”

He shot you a wink as he stepped backward out of the doorway. “I certainly wouldn’t mind.”

Your jaw went slack as he vanished around the corner.

Loki had this way of bantering with you that toed the line between friendly and flirty for quite some time now. You never really thought much of it - just sort of chalked it up to Loki being Loki, the silver-tongued God of Mischief. Though, admittedly, you'd never seen him behave in the same way around any of the others. Still, you never took it too seriously. You couldn't lie and say you would be opposed to becoming something more with him. It just had always seemed so far out of the realm of possibility for a mortal.

But that comment... that was the first time he'd said something that alluded to the possibility that he just might feel the same way.

He began to ask you about your tattoos every so often after that. Probing you to see if you'd cave and let him see, let him in on such a personal attribute of yourself. He never pushed you too hard, of course. The idea of possibly letting him in on those parts of you was simultaneously terrifying and exhilarating. More and more, you found yourself wanting to share them with Loki. To let yourself be vulnerable for once in your life.

That was something your father had never taught you to do. To be vulnerable. Vulnerability was weakness to him, and so you learned to shove down everything you ever felt and pack it away in the back of your mind to avoid letting it reflect on your face, in your movements. You'd seen your teammates be openly unguarded with one another, sharing in their heartaches as they did their victories, and you longed for the ability to do the same. It had been so engrained in you to hide everything since your childhood that you weren't really sure where to start.

Loki wasn't exactly the most open-book sort of person either. Perhaps that was a good thing. You could figure it out together.

It was probably around the sixth or seventh time he’d brought it up that you finally caved.

You’d been in the fitness room back in the tower, now that the team was safely stationed back on solid ground. It was one of those rare instances that the room was otherwise empty, and you were not about to pass up that opportunity.

After only ten minutes of hitting the heavy bag, your knuckles were beginning to sting and sweat was beading on your brow from the intensity of your workout. Around the others, you typically tried to tone it back a bit, but when you were by yourself, your old training regimes came back to you.

Finally feeling satisfied with the divots you’d punched into the leather, you wiped your forehead with the back of your hand and reached down for your water bottle. Just as your fingertips touched the condensation building along the chilled plastic, the bottle suddenly slid a few feet to the left, seemingly of its own accord. But you knew better by now.

“Loki, I’m thirsty,” you griped, glancing over your shoulder at the smug-looking trickster who was now standing behind you. “Can’t you at least save your little tricks for after I get to take a sip?”

"Then it wouldn't irk you nearly as much. Where is the fun in that?"

"Is that the sole reason you came in here? To get on my nerves?" A grin pulled at your lips as you took the swig of water you'd been craving.

"Perhaps I wanted to exercise."

You waved your hand in a sweeping motion around the room. "Have at it, then."

He followed along behind you as you made your way across the gym to the pull-up bar. "But getting on your nerves is much more interesting."

"Of course it is." You plunked your water bottle down beside the mats on the hardwood, rubbing your hands together before stepping under the bar and grabbing hold with both hands. "What else are you planning to annoy me with today?"

"Oh, well that's no fun. I can't irritate you on command."

You pulled yourself effortlessly up, lifting your chin over the bar before lowering yourself down once again. "Then maybe you should go exercise."

He shrugged. "I've lost my interest. A god doesn't need to exercise anyhow."

You sniffed out a laugh, pulling yourself up over the bar again. Obviously he'd come in here with the sole purpose of talking to you. He often hovered as you did your own workouts, chatting with you and making teasing comments about your mortal need to exercise to build your strength. In return, you teased that you would become stronger than he was if he didn't start exercising himself.

You didn't mind having his company. He was the only one you'd allow to hang around you like this while you did your workouts.

"You still haven't shown me these tattoos of yours," Loki stated suddenly as you relaxed your arms to dangle from the bar. You released it in your surprise, feet slamming down onto the padded gym mat beneath you with a thump.

"What made you think of that?"

He pointed to your right hip, where a small phrase was tattooed just above your hipbone on your side, hidden underneath your shirt. "Your shirt rode up a bit just now."

"Did you read it?" you asked hesitantly. Loki shook his head.

"I couldn't see the whole thing." He flashed you his trademark smirk, the one that made you weak in the knees. "I must say, you've got me rather curious."

You grinned. "It's killing you, not knowing what they are, isn't it?"

He clicked his tongue. "You're infuriating, teasing me like that."

"And you're nosy."

"I never said I wasn't."

You sighed, pressing your tongue to the inside of your cheek as you tried to fight back a smile. "Alright. I'll show you. But I need to shower first."

"Fair enough."

You directed him to stop by your room in a half hour, heading up to wash off the sweat from your workout. Once you'd cleaned up, you tied your hair back rather than bothering to dry it all the way, throwing on a pair of sweatpants and a sleeveless top. You only owned a couple of those, preferring to wear shirts with sleeves to better conceal your tattoos. It always struck you how exposed you felt even just baring your shoulders. You threw a zip-up hoodie on over it, despite the fact it wasn't cold, just for the added sense of coverage of your skin.

A knock at your door sounded right at the time you'd told Loki to swing by. You opened the door and allowed him inside your room, shutting the door behind you.

This wasn't the first time he'd been in your room. He'd come by a few times in the past, usually to seek council from you when he was arguing with his brother. Although, once, he'd stopped by to check on you when you'd fallen ill with the flu. That had been a rather unexpected visit, but a pleasant one nonetheless, when he'd delivered you a bowl of hot soup after hearing Wanda say it was something Midgardians did when someone was sick.

Despite all that, it still felt foreign having him in your room today. Perhaps because you weren't sure how best to approach the reasoning behind his visit. He stood in the middle of your room, gazing at you questioningly as though trying to determine whether he should sit down or not. You motioned to the edge of your bed, inviting him to sit down beside you as you perched yourself atop your bedspread.

"Understand that you are privileged to be able to see these," you declared sternly. "I don't go around showing my tattoos to everyone."

"Are you certain you're alright with it?"

The uncertainty in his tone startled you. He had an intense look in his eyes as he gazed at you, as though trying to read your mind. Hesitantly, you nodded.

"Yes. I... trust you. It's just hard to share some of the stories behind them."

With a nervous hand, you unzipped the hoodie and shrugged it off, setting it down on the end of the bed. His eyes were immediately drawn to the words inked just below your collarbone on the right side, covered partially by your tank top sleeve. You pushed it aside and allowed him to read the phrase etched on your skin.

With pain comes strength.

"That one is in memory of my father," you explained before he could ask. "He's the reason I became a SHIELD agent."

"I'm sorry you've lost him."

You cringed at the thought that ran through your mind in response. I'm not.

"He was... difficult," you explained. You could tell Loki knew you were sugar-coating it by the skeptical raise of his brow. "He stopped being a father when my mother died. After that, he became nothing more than my instructor, my fighting coach. He... pushed me to become a SHIELD agent like he was."

"Is that what you wanted?"

"Yes... and no." You turned around to allow Loki to see the tattoo between your shoulder blades, the thin black parallel lines and circles designed to depict a circuit board. "I've always been into computers. If I'd had my choice, I'd have worked in the technology department in SHIELD. Developing new gear, programming new A.I.s, hacking into bad guys' systems from afar..."

"Why didn't you?"

"My father wanted me to be a field agent like he was. He always said the techy agents were the ones who were 'too weak to throw a punch.'"

You felt his finger suddenly tracing along the lines of the tattoo, down along your spine, and you shivered. Loki apologized and retracted his hand.

"It's alright, you can touch it. Just warn me next time, will you?" you griped, turning your head to grin at him and let him know you didn’t mind. He smirked right back, lifting his hand to the markings between your shoulders once again. The pads of his fingers were soft against the smooth skin of your back. It had been years since someone had touched your bare skin. It felt foreign to you, but it felt... nice. His touch was almost reverent as he traced along one of the sharp bending lines that bordered your shoulder blade.

"Show me another one," he requested. You felt an odd sense of loss when his fingers left your back. Turning back towards him, you shifted to point out one of the few colorful tattoos you had inked into the outside of your upper right arm, normally hidden even beneath the short-sleeved T-shirts you wore. It was a small hummingbird, with feathers of blue, green, and pink and wings flared out as though in flight.

"My mother always loved hummingbirds," you murmured, feeling a painful lump forming in your throat.

"What happened to her?" Loki asked quietly.

"Ambush. She was a medic on board the helicarrier that my dad was stationed on. They never saw it coming." You released a shuddering breath. "I was only ten, but I remember it like it was yesterday, the day my father came home and told me she was dead."

Loki placed a gentle hand on your forearm in comfort. You glanced up at him, blinking back the tears blurring your vision as you fought to keep them from spilling over. To show pain is to show weakness. You had to remind yourself again that the reason you chose the phrase along your collarbone was to rewrite those words your father used to tell you in a more positive light. With pain comes strength. You just weren't used to showing it to other people.

"My mother was killed in an ambush as well." Loki’s voice sounded heavy, laden with sadness and possibly even a touch of guilt.

"I'm sorry," you breathed, placing your hand over his where it still rested on your arm. He allowed it for a moment, then cleared his throat and lifted his hand, and you followed suit. With a watery laugh, you told him, "I do have some with happy memories, I swear."

"Go on then. Show me."

You scooted backward a bit on the bed, bending your knee and rolling up your pant leg to show him the small black anchor tattooed on your ankle. "My friend and I got matching ones when we were younger. We used to go sailing every summer. This one's small, but it hurt like hell getting it done."

"Is it often painful?"

"More like... scratchy. But this one hurt."

You let your leg drape back over the bed, shaking it a bit to unfurl your pant leg to cover your ankle once again. Loki's eyes flitted down to your hip where he'd seen your shirt ride up earlier.

"You've yet to show me that one," he urged, gesticulating toward the spot. You let out a breathy laugh through your nose, lifting the hem of your shirt to expose your right side. The words were small, and Loki leaned down a bit to read them.

"You are enough." His eyes lifted to once again meet yours, his face startlingly closer to your own now that he'd shifted closer to see the black ink scrawled across your side. A tilt of his head told you he wanted to know the story behind it. This was quite possibly the hardest story to tell, and you braced yourself for it.

"That one, I got to remind myself that no matter what harsh words my father had for me... I am not worthless."

Loki hummed thoughtfully. "I'm beginning to dislike this man more and more."

You laughed despite yourself. "I doubt you'd have gotten along with him if he were still alive. He was no-nonsense - he didn't like to joke around, always straight down to business. Maybe that's why you and I get along so well."

"Oh?"

"I was a mischievous kid, you know. Dad always hated that. For a while, it only made me try harder to get on his nerves, just to defy him." You grinned at the trickster. "I bet you were a little monster when you were a kid."

Loki let out a rumbling chuckle from deep in his chest, one that made your heart flutter in your chest. "I certainly wasn't an angel - let's leave it at that."

You let go of your shirt to let it drape back over your hip, hiding the black ink from view once again. Loki looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to show him the last one.

"Well?"

"Well, what?" You tried to look confused, biting back a teasing smirk. He saw right through it, folding his arms sternly across his chest with a grin.

"Oh, come now. You can't expect me not to ask about the one on your other side - not after I saw a part of it while you were in the lab the other day."

"You saw the whole thing!"

"Your arm was blocking it. Don't try to get out of this one, darling."

You huffed through your nose, shaking your head in defeat. In truth, this was your favorite out of all of them. It was also the largest and most intricate tattoo you had. You'd debated it for months before having it done, knowing you wanted to be certain you'd love it if you were to get something this extensive inked permanently into your skin. The fact that Loki was so curious about it made you a bit giddy to show it to him, but you simply had to tease him a bit first.

"Oh, alright. I suppose I can show you again."

You turned around to sit with your left side facing Loki, seated cross-legged on the bed. Gradually, you rolled your shirt up to the middle of your ribs, revealing the dragon tattoo you had winding up the span of your side. Various shades of blue and black ink added depth and dimension to the dragon's scales as it twisted from just above your hip to the middle of your ribs.

Loki's eyes roamed curiously over the image inked into your skin. "What's the story behind this one?"

You turned your head just slightly, enough to flash him a sly smirk. "I just like dragons."

A breathy laugh escaped his nose. "I can appreciate that." He lifted his hand hesitantly, catching your eye. "May I?"

You nodded, eyes shifting to watch his hand as he gently touched his fingertips to the bare skin overlaying your ribs, tracing along the snout and head of the dragon. It took every ounce of effort you had not to flinch at his touch. Holy hell, it tickled. It had been some time since anyone had attempted to tickle you, and you'd forgotten how terribly sensitive you were. What you hadn't forgotten was the squeaky, girlish laughter that burst out of you whenever someone managed to find a particularly weak spot. It was far from the tough façade with which you'd learned to carry yourself. So, whenever a friend happened to try to tickle you, you either withheld your reactions long enough for them to grow bored, or you scolded them into thinking you didn't want them to touch you.

But Loki's tender touch was not unwelcome. Quite the opposite, really. If only you weren't so damned ticklish, you could melt right into it. You could not let him know what he was doing to you. You knew the God of Mischief well enough to know that the moment he found out how ticklish you were, he'd go searching for the spots and pressure that might actually make you laugh those embarrassingly cutesy giggles of yours.

His fingertips glided along the dragon's spine, winding back and forth down the length of your ribs. You balled your hand into a fist and curled your toes as you willed yourself not to react. Goosebumps rose along your skin in the wake of his fingertips as they flitted down the softer skin of your side, tracing down along the dragon's tail. You let out a breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding the moment his finger paused at the very tip of the tail, just above your hipbone, only to suck it right back into your lungs as he reversed direction and began tracing back up the way he'd come.

"Am I tickling you?"

He had an impish lilt to his tone that made your stomach flip as your eyes darted up to meet his. You opened your mouth to deny it, and he purposely lightened his touch with the intention to make it tickle as he continued ghosting his fingertips along the image on your skin. Your hand shot to your mouth to stifle a giggle on instinct.

"Damn," you muttered, voice muffled in your palm. That godforsaken handsome smirk spread across his face, and you knew you were in trouble. You brought your arm down to cover your side, releasing your shirt in hopes it would slip down to cover your bare skin and offer a bit of protection, but it was bunched around your midsection where you'd rolled it up.

"I wasn't finished admiring your tattoo, you feisty little dragon," he scolded teasingly, his hand closing around your wrist and prying your arm from your side.

"L-Loki! You brat!" You wrenched your wrist from his grasp, only for him to catch it in his other hand as you swatted at him playfully. "N-noho! Don't you dare!"

His free hand found your side, fingers flitting ticklishly over the bare skin wrapping around toward your belly. You clapped your hand back over your mouth as another little giggle threatened to burst out, shaking your head with wide eyes at your flirtatious assailant. Loki withdrew his hand, releasing your wrist with a concerned, hesitant look on his face.

"I apologize - do you not like to be tickled?"

You lowered your hand from your mouth, tugging your shirt down on instinct but softening your expression. "No, it's not that. I just... it's embarrassing."

"You're embarrassed by being tickled?"

"By my laugh."

Loki cocked his head inquisitively. "You laugh all the time." Boastfully, he added, "I am quite funny, after all."

"You keep telling yourself that," you teased, shoving his shoulder playfully. "I don't mind my usual laugh, but... god this is embarrassing... I sort of laugh... differently when someone tickles me."

Loki's eyebrows shot up his forehead, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Now I'm very intrigued."

"Well that's a shame, because I'm not gonna- HEY!" You swatted at his hand as it darted out and pinched your ribs, barely withholding a giggle. "No, none of that! I don't want you to hear it! It's embarrassing!"

"Explain to me how your laugh can possibly be that embarrassing that you won't allow me to tickle you."

"First off, no one allows anyone to tickle them-"

"So you'd prefer I take you down by force and tickle you instead?"

Your face caught fire, and you were somewhat mortified to realize that part of the reason was because you didn't mind that idea in the slightest.

"N-not the point. AS I was saying... my ticklish laugh is... ugh, it's-squeaky-and-cutesy-and-terrible." You were surprised Loki could even understand what you said, the words came tumbling out of your mouth so fast. Based on the sly, flirty grin that crossed his face, you knew he understood every word.

"That sounds charming."

You swatted his hand away once again as he reached for your side. "That's exactly the problem! I'm not meant to be adorable! I'm a SHIELD agent - I can take guys down with my bare hands, I know how to handle nine different types of weapons-"

"And you're adorably ticklish. I don't see the problem here."

"Loki!" You hid your burning face in your hands, only to bring your arms right back down as his fingers skittered across your belly. With a non-threatening growl, you smacked his hand away once again. Truthfully, you were loving this playfulness. This sort of interaction was something you seriously lacked as a kid, your childhood stolen away from you in favor of long hours of relentless training and cruel words. Still, you weren't sure how keen you were on allowing Loki to hear your childish-sounding giggles.

"You don't need to be the tough, hardened SHIELD agent every waking hour of the day," he insisted. "In fact, I rather enjoy this softer side of you."

"Really?"

He nodded, a smirk spreading across his lips. "What's life without a bit of laughter?" he asked, experimentally squeezing your hip and earning another slap on the wrist. "Now then. I'd very much like to hear this 'squeaky and cutesy and terrible' laugh of yours. And as you so astutely stated, no one simply allows someone to tickle them..."

You laughed nervously as he caught hold of your wrist, wrenching your free arm out of his reach before he could get his hand on the other one. He tutted at you, shifting to kneel beside you on the bed so he could gain leverage to increase his efforts to capture you in his hold. His hand reached out for yours again, and you swiftly hid it behind your back.

"You are well aware this is a fruitless endeavor, attempting to evade capture." He smirked devilishly at you. "Eventually you know I'll overpower you."

Despite the fact that you weren't exactly excited about the prospect of Loki hearing your less-than-threatening bubbly giggles, you found that you trusted him completely. You trusted that he cared about you - perhaps cared for you, if you could be so fortunate - and you trusted that he would never say something hurtful to you.

You trusted him enough that when he finally did catch your other wrist and wrestle you down onto your back, you didn't fight as hard as you knew you could as he pinned your wrists beneath his knees.

"Lohoki you AHASS!" you cried, squirming under his gaze.

"You wound me, darling." He let his hands hover threateningly over your sides, knowing already that you were ticklish there at least to a lighter tough. You stiffened in anticipation of his impending attack. "Let's hear that laugh then, hmm?"

His hands latched onto both sides, kneading into the soft, sensitive skin. You sucked in a breath and squeezed your eyes shut, trying to withhold your laughter despite how horribly ticklish the sensation was. Undeterred, he let his hands wander in search of a weak spot, one hand clawing its way into the center of your belly while the other ascended your ribcage.

"Come now, darling... laugh for me," he urged teasingly, swapping his hands to dig one into the spot just below your ribs and slotting the other up under your arm. You clamped your mouth shut tight, letting out a screech of protest from deep in your throat through your nose as you kicked your heels against the mattress. He had you writhing with the gentlest scratching of his fingertips at that spot under your ribcage, and the fingers wriggling into the pliant skin beneath your arm were certainly not helping matters.

However, neither compared to the agonizingly ticklish sensation as his hand descended from your ribs to the side of your belly, about halfway between your navel and your side. Just one scratch at that spot and you were done for.

Those silly ticklish giggles poured from your lips, only increasing in speed and volume when he realized what was causing your sudden outburst of laughter and dropped his other hand to the other side of your belly. You giggled and squeaked, writhing and kicking helplessly as a fond grin spread across his face.

"There it is." Loki scratched faster at the torturous spot, his grin widening as your eyes scrunched shut and you threw your head back with desperate laughter. "I don't know what you're talking about - this is a very normal-sounding laugh."

"SHUHUT UHUP, YOHOU!"

"That's quite rude of you - I'm trying to make you feel better. The least you can do is not shout at me." He wrapped his large hands around your sides, toggling circles into those same spots on your belly with both thumbs while scratching at your sides. A giggly screech ripped through your chest as your back arched, then finally you went limp against the bedspread as your own hysterical laughter overpowered you.

But not once did you tell him to stop. Not once did you want him to stop. Sure, the sensation was overwhelming, ticklish shocks shooting through your nerves with every squeeze of his fingers into your middle. But you trusted Loki. Enough to let yourself be vulnerable with him, just as you had been when you'd explained the stories behind each of your tattoos. His touch was mischievous, but it was kind and playful, and you hadn't laughed like this in a very, very long time. Your abdominal muscles ached and your laughter was becoming breathless, but it felt good. Refreshing.

Loki relented, having succeeded in his mission to make you laugh. Your mind was fuzzy as you sat up, smoothing your hair down as your giggles slowly faded. He flashed you his smirk, and you shot him a hardly-menacing glare.

"I don't believe there is anything 'terrible' about that laugh of yours," he assured with a wink. You swatted his shoulder jokingly.

"Yohou suck," you grumbled. Then, with a glint of mischief in your eyes, you dropped your hand down to his side and swiftly pinched at the soft spot a few times. He merely stared down at your hand, unmoving, then looked up to meet your eye with an impossibly wider smirk. Your jaw dropped indignantly. "No. No way are you not ticklish."

"Not in the same way you are."

"So you are ticklish, then."

"In exactly two places, yes."

With a fierce look of determination, you brought your other hand over to dig into his lower ribs. He sighed as though you were boring him, casually taking hold of your wrists and prying them away from his sides.

"Hey!"

"As you stated earlier - no one simply allows someone to tickle them." He grinned, holding fast to your wrists as you tugged and twisted to try to free them from his grip. He was teasing you now, you knew - not doing anything but preventing you from continuing on your mission to find the two solitary places he was ticklish.

"Oh, come on!" you groaned, shifting to sit on your knees to be able to push harder against his hold. "Now I - mmph - I need to know where!"

Loki chuckled fiendishly. "I'm sorry to tell you, darling, but you're going to have to work for it."

Growling, you threw your weight forward to try to catch him off guard and knock him backward. You nearly succeeded, but he regained his balance at the last moment, suddenly shoving your wrists in retaliation and easily slamming you down onto your back once again with your arms pinned beside you. He loomed over you with a self-assured grin, gradually dragging your arms up above your head as you began protesting and laughing all at once.

"What - did you think I was going to make it easy for you, little spitfire?" He gathered your wrists in one hand, lowering the other to your right hip and slipping it up under the hem of your shirt. "Is this tattoo of yours ticklish as well?"

"How should I know- hehey!! Lohohoki!!" You let out a few giggles as his fingers swept maddeningly gently over the bare skin above your hip where the words were inked into your skin. He clicked his tongue, grinning victoriously.

"Ah, I see it is. Tell me - do the tattoos make your skin more ticklish in those spots? Or have you always been this sensitive?"

"I-hi hahate you." You twisted to evade his fingers, and rather than trying to follow you, he turned his attention to the words under your collarbone, lightly tracing his finger along the looping text. A surprised giggly shriek burst from your lips at the sensation, a stretch of skin you'd never anticipated would be ticklish and yet it was making your nerves tingle.

"This one too? Perhaps it's the ink, then?" He shot his hand down to your belly, scratching at the weak spot he'd discovered earlier and throwing you into hysterics. "Although, that wouldn't explain why this makes you laugh so hard."

Your half-hearted protests were lost beneath the sound of own laughter, amplifying when Loki released your wrists in favor of digging into the other side of your belly. Your hands grasped feebly at his wrists, then wrapped around your midsection, all failed attempts to lessen the ticklish feeling of his fingers clawing at your skin. In a last-ditch effort, you slotted your thumbs up under his arms, digging your eight fingers into the backs of his ribs.

Loki spluttered, removing his hands from your belly to sit up and shift out of reach of your fingers. But you were swift. You practically threw yourself at him, not even considering the implications as you wrapped your arms tight around him and pinned his arms to his sides. Without waiting for him to start fighting back, you latched your fingers onto those spots on the backs of his ribs and launched a ten-fingered attack.

"Pfft yohou lihittle..."

Whatever he was planning to call you, you never found out. The rumbling, deep laughter that burst from the trickster's chest was startling. You'd never heard him laugh before. Sure, he chuckled snarkily all the time, but to hear him really laugh... It was quite possibly your new favorite sound. Still, you couldn't pass up the opportunity to tease him for it.

"Ah-ha!! I found one!" you cried triumphantly, tightening your hold as he began trying to throw you off him. You squeaked as his hands found your sides and squeezed, digging your fingers into his ribs faster to deter his counterattack. You could feel his muscles weakening in your hold from his laughter. You leaned back a bit to look him in the eye, flashing him a smirk reminiscent of the mischievous god himself. "Oh-ho-ho, you're so screwed."

His eyes locked on yours for a moment, those blue-green irises practically glowing.

What happened next, you couldn't possibly have anticipated.

Loki suddenly allowed himself to fall backward, bringing you down on top of him with a surprised yelp. The shock of it made you loosen your grip, scrambling to plant your knees on either side of his hips to regain some semblance of leverage, preparing yourself for his ticklish retaliation. His hands found your hips, and you opened your mouth to begin playfully scolding him.

Anything you would have said to him was muffled against his mouth as he captured your lips with his.

For a brief moment, you stiffened, more than a bit shocked by this sudden advance. As your mind processed what was happening, you relaxed into his arms, melting as you sighed blissfully against his lips. Loki's hand slipped under the hem of your shirt, making you gasp and tense in anticipation of more tickling, but he kept his touch firm as he slid his palm along the side where the dragon tattoo adorned your skin. Your lips curled up into a grin against his, parting from him just slightly to look at him through hazy eyes.

"Is that one your favorite too?" you mumbled. That smirk that always made you weak in the knees graced his lips as he nodded, running his palm back down along your side.

"I'd like to see it again."

"Mm... later." You silenced him once again with another kiss, savoring in the taste of his lips. His hand came to rest on your hip once again, the other rising to cradle your neck as he lifted his head slightly to deepen the kiss.

There was no way of knowing how much time passed while your lips were locked with Loki's. And in all honesty, you didn't really care. Not once in the entirety of your life had anyone made you feel this good. If this was your reward for being open and vulnerable with him... well, perhaps you'd need to do it more often.

You let him kiss you until you became breathless, finally forcing yourself to part from his lips to get some air. He let his hand at your neck slide down to your shoulders as he lifted his lips to kiss along your jawline.

"You... you just kissed me to make me stop tickling you, didn't you?" you teased. He grinned, pressing one last kiss to your neck.

"It worked, did it not?" You scoffed and rolled your eyes with a laugh. "In any case, no. I kissed you because I wanted to. That was just an added bonus."

You leaned down to press gentle kisses along his jawline to return the favor, grinning as you heard his breath hitch in his chest. "You know..." you mumbled between kisses, "... you're not getting out of telling me where your other tickle spot is just by kissing me."

Loki hummed thoughtfully, lifting his head to recapture your lips with his once again. You considered scolding him for attempting to evade the question once again, but you allowed it, pressing your lips harder against his and kissing him fervently. His hands slid firmly down your sides and along your hips, coming to rest at the back of your thighs just above your knees. He let his head fall back against the mattress to break apart from your lips once again, and you barely registered the mischievous glint in his eyes in your euphoric daze.

"Why don't I just show you instead?"

Caught off guard after being lulled into a kiss-drunken trance, you didn't have time to react as you felt his fingers hook around the undersides of your knees, shifting up just a couple inches and scratching at the apparently hypersensitive patches of skin just above your knees on your inner thighs. An embarrassingly high-pitched shriek burst from your lips at the sudden sensation, collapsing against Loki and burying your face in his shoulder to muffle your desperate giggles.

"MM-HMM LOKIHI!" you squealed, trying to roll off of him. Loki held fast, his fiery fingers fluttering and sweeping along the cotton fabric of your pants covering those wretched spots above your knees. You kicked your feet against the mattress in protest, earning a laugh from the mischievous god as he finally showed you mercy. His hands left your knees so his arms could wrap tightly around your waist, squeezing you to his chest.

"It seems we have that spot in common, don't we, darling?" he murmured in your ear teasingly. You growled playfully, lifting your head to glare at him.

"I'm beginning to think that kissing me was all a ruse to be able to torment me," you scolded jestingly. He responded by rolling swiftly, pinning you on your back and gazing down with nothing but adoration in his eyes.

"There are many more reasons than that for me to want to kiss you." To emphasize, he ducked his head to kiss you once more, stealing your breath away. You laughed against his lips, drinking in his kiss for a moment before swiftly latching your hands around the backs of his knees and targeting those same spots he'd just demonstrated on you moments ago. He barked out a surprised laugh at your ticklish touch, toppling sideways onto the bed to escape your fingers. You managed to continue a moment longer before he captured your hands in his, raising them to his lips and pressing a kiss to each of your palms.

"Mm... you're no fun," you whined, eliciting an amused laugh from the trickster.

"I beg your pardon - as I recall, I just made you laugh for the last twenty minutes," he retorted with mock indignance.

"That might be an exaggeration. But, I'll let you have it."

Loki propped himself up on his elbow, reaching over and gently grasping the hem of your shirt in his hand with a pleading look in his eyes. "Might I see it again, now? I promise I won't tickle you."

Your cheeks warmed as you nodded, allowing him to slide your shirt up to reveal the dragon tattoo once again. He smoothed his palm over it with enough weight in his touch not to tickle, just as he'd promised.

"This one suits you," he declared after gazing at it a moment longer.

"Oh? And why is that?"

"It's elegant and beautiful, and yet simultaneously fiery and fierce. Much like you."

You turned his words over in your mind, a grin tugging at your lips. "You know... I never thought of it that way. I like that."

It was true - you'd honestly gotten that tattoo because you liked it. The one tattoo that had no story behind it, and yet Loki found a way to make it the most meaningful of all of them. You strove to be fiery and fierce, but you'd never thought yourself to be elegant and beautiful until Loki suggested you were. It was perfect - the perfect blend of your past and the future you were striving for.

Loki smirked as he watched you react to his words, that smirk you were beginning to love more and more each time he showed it to you. He wrapped an arm around your waist and tugged you close, eyeing your lips hungrily as your face burned under the weight of his gaze.

"Now - kiss me again, little dragon."

How could you possibly say no?

[writerpeach]

Blind Date

LOONA Choerry X Male Reader

8153 words

---

Read on AFF

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“Oppa, how long has it been since you’ve dated anyone?” Son Hyejoo asked, seemingly out of the blue as she loudly slurped on her milkshake, stirring the leftover contents with her large straw.

“I don’t know, Hyejoo. I don’t keep track of things like that.”

Hyejoo pointed her strawberry milkshake directly at you, unsatisfied with your answer. “Then that means it’s been too long,” she said, her triangle lips forming a pout.

You rubbed your forehead, knowing once she brought something up she wasn’t going to drop it.

“Why do I need to date anyone when I’m lucky enough to rail you every day?” you playfully replied, causing her nearly to choke on her frozen drink.

“Oppa, not so loud!” she said, kicking your shin. “I won’t be around all the time now that I’m starting a new job. And you need some variety in your life. You’re going to get tired of fucking me.”

“That’s impossible.”

You couldn’t say you agreed with her on that. Hyejoo was the perfect friend with benefits, beautiful big tits and perfect thick thighs, the prettiest mouth and the tightest pussy that you spilled yourself inside several times a day, you couldn’t imagine needing anything else.

“I know just the person to set you up with, oppa. She’s single and one of my closest friends, I think you’ll like her.”

“That’s really not necessary-”

Hyejoo wasn’t going to take no for an answer, refusing to back down as she grabbed her phone and swiped through it.

Finding what she was looking for she showed you her screen, an equally gorgeous girl that looked the same age as her with innocent eyes and a sweet smile.

“She’s cute, but you really don’t have to-”

“Nonsense, oppa. It’s time for you to stop being so needy and find a girlfriend,” Hyejoo said.

“Needy? Unless I’m forgetting something you’re the one who loves slobbering on my cock first thing in the morning,” you said.

“Hey! It’s called breakfast, and it’s not my fault you get so hard in the morning.”

“Actually, I’m pretty sure it is,” you said, as you were met with another kick to the shins.

“Ow!”

“It’s settled, I’ll set you two up on a blind date.”

“Blind date? But you just showed me her picture,” you said, tilting your head in confusion.

Hyejoo sighed audibly. “You’re hopeless, oppa. Don’t you want to know what she looks like?”

“O-of course, but-”

“No buts, oppa. Except hers, her butt is very nice,” she giggled, finishing up her milkshake.

“Don’t worry, she’s very sweet, I think you’ll get along well. Her name is Yerim and she always puts out.”

✦✦

“You look good, oppa,” Hyejoo said as she fixed the collar of your shirt.

You wiped your sweaty palms on the back of your pants as you took one more look in the mirror

“You smell good too. I told you that cologne was a panty-dropper," she said as her lips curled in a smirk.

You sighed loudly. “Hyejoo, I’m not meeting this girl just to get laid. You wanted me to get a girlfriend, right?”

"No, I'm pretty sure you wanted this, actually-"

Hyejoo pressed a finger against your lips. "Shush, oppa. Are you nervous?”

“Y-yes, it’s been years since I’ve been on a date.”

“Wanna have a quickie before? Burn all that stress all inside me?” Hyejoo jokingly said.

“...Are you serious?”

“Of course not, you can’t be dependent on me anymore, oppa. Plus, you need to save that load for Yerim.”

“Hyejoo!”

She smiled mischievously and patted your bottom, making sure nothing was out of place for your date.

“Have some confidence oppa, you’ll do great. Yerim will love you. Now get going, you don’t want to be late.”

✦✦

It was unusual for Hyejoo to put in this much effort, typically spending her days lazily on the couch checking her phone.

Everything was planned carefully. Hyejoo had picked the restaurant based on your favorite foods, the time, and the day, even showing up to your place an hour before to make sure you looked your best.

Keeping up with the notion of this being mostly a blind date, Hyejoo didn’t tell you much about Yerim. They shared the same age, although Yerim was months younger. They had a similar body type and lighter hair, and if you didn’t know any better you could have mistaken her for a younger sister.

You were still nervous about the date, but trusted Hyejoo’s judgement and hoped you were about to waste this opportunity that you had been given to meet a new girl. You took a deep breath as you stepped out of the taxi and headed into the restaurant, trying to calm your shaky hands.

The restaurant was larger than expected looking from the outside, equipped with a bar and seating area as you scanned around for your date.

“Good evening, sir. Do you have a reservation?” One of the hostesses asked, but before you had a chance to answer you heard an adorable voice interrupting.

“Over here!”

You were quickly blindsided by a cute girl that matched the picture that Hyejoo had shown you, abruptly wrapping her arms around in a tight hug.

She had a petite frame with brown hair, a tint lighter than Hyejoo and wore a modest black dress and heels with her hair styled perfectly.

“You’re Hyejoo’s friend right?” she asked, the smile on her face brighter than the sun.

“It would be a little awkward if I wasn’t now wouldn’t it?” you teased, gently nodding in response.

“Oh, well if you weren’t then I would just be hugging a cute stranger,” she said. “I’m Yerim.”

Cute? You thought to yourself as you were broadsided by this ball of happiness. “Come on, let’s eat!” she said, grabbing your hand as the hostess led you to your table.

You were both seated at a romantic candle-lit booth, letting Yerim sit down first as you took in the atmosphere of the restaurant. Hyejoo had picked the perfect place.

The waiter handed out menus and filled glasses to the brim with ice water as you looked over the laundry list of food, unsure what you were in the mood for.

“What’s good here?” Yerim asked the waiter, batting her eyelashes as her vocal tone grew higher.

“Our sushi and steak platter is very popular here. We have several different types to try paired with our signature sauces.”

“Steak? I love steak!” Yerim said, her mouth salivating just thinking about it.

“Me too. And sushi,” you said, as Yerim nodded to the waiter.

“I’ll bring it right out then,” the waiter said, scurrying away with a polite bow.

“I can’t wait!” Yerim said, licking her lips as she carefully unfolded and placed her napkin on her lap.

“It’s nice to meet you. Hyejoo has told me a lot about you!” she said, keeping a beautiful smile etched on her lips.

“Oh, has she? That seems a bit unfair, she didn’t tell me much about you. You’re much cuter than the picture she showed me.”

Yerim giggled as she opened her straw, placing it inside her glass and playing around with the ice cubes before taking a small sip, careful not to mess up her lip gloss.

The two girls were quite the contrast to each other. Hyejoo wasn’t one to care about most things, you found it difficult to pry her away from her gaming chair for anything but food and sex. Yerim on the other hand was hanging on your every word, finding any word you said the most interesting thing in the world without a hint of dishonesty.

Quicker than expected the food arrived, and you both dove in without hesitation, armed with chopsticks like a hunter stalking a prey.

The two opposing foods meshed perfectly. Raw sushi made with fish so fresh it might as well have been served directly out of the ocean, complimenting tender meat that literally melted in your mouth, cooked to perfection and seasoned, salted without excess. You swore you heard Yerim moaning out loud as she took her first bite.

Sharing food with a girl so full of energy was a wonderful experience, her company only adding to the delicious flavor. You were so focused on the fresh sushi that you barely had the capacity to register Yerim unapologetically taking the last piece of steak quicker than a deadly samurai and shoving it into her mouth proudly.

“Ah, you really must be Hyejoo’s friend,” you said sarcastically, frowning at her meat thievery.

"Mmm! There's nothing I love more than juicy meat in my mouth," Yerim said, without a hint of subtlety to her words.

She shamelessly went in for another piece of sushi, trying to add another piece of loot to her food heist as you quickly blocked her chopsticks with your own, denying her the satisfaction as you claimed the last spicy tuna roll for your own.

“Hey! That one was my favorite!” she protested, pursing her lips as her cheeks puffed as she watched the claimed prize disappearing into your mouth.

“Mine too! It was delicious,” you boasted, wiping your lips with the cloth napkin before folding it back on your lap. “I’m sorry, it was rude of me not to ask if you wanted the last piece.”

Yerim wasn’t one to stay mad for long, unfolding her arms as the signature brightness returned to her face. “The steak was better anyways,“ she said, giggling and sticking her tongue out.

Time flew by as you learned more about Yerim, hours had felt like minutes as they passed,

ending the meal with the biggest slice of cheesecake you had ever seen.

The waiter came by to drop off the bill as you scooped it up, not bothering to look at the total as the time spent with such an adorable human was priceless.

“Such a gentleman, aren’t you?” Yerim said, and you couldn’t quite tell if she was teasing you or not.

Leaving a generous tip, you walked Yerim outside the restaurant, both of you equally full from both the delicious food company as the temperature had dropped, the cool crisp air blowing every which way.

“Thank you for a fun night, Yerim. I’ll let Hyejoo know she picked well.”

Yerim’s cheeks reddened and tilted her head down shyly. “Ending the night so soon?” Yerim said, the disappointment in her voice clear as the night sky.

“Well, it’s getting late and I wouldn’t want to keep you up.”

“I don’t have a bedtime, silly,” she said, hitting your shoulder as the wind blew through her beautiful hair. The moonlight bouncing off her skin made her look even more gorgeous, illuminating her milky white skin.

Yerim closed the distance little by little until your noses were almost touching, letting you see the color in her beautiful round eyes.

“I had a really fun night too, but it doesn’t have to end here you know...” Yerim said, giving you a quick peck on your cheek.

Yerim was practically throwing herself at you as you gulped, swallowing down saliva nervously.

“Aren’t you going to invite a cute girl back to your place?” she abruptly said, taking charge of the situation.

You snapped out of it and weren’t going to let Hyejoo’s efforts go to waste. “O-of course. Would you like to go back to my place, Miss Yerim?”

“Of course! I thought you would never ask!”

The short taxi ride back to your place was filled with palpable sexual tension, neither of you muttering a word since you both left the restaurant. Yerim opted for her actions to speak for her as she rubbed your thigh the whole time.

You unlocked the door to your apartment and held the door open for Yerim as she stepped inside, swiveling her head as she looked around. She kicked her heels off and rubbed her feet, happy to be freed of them as her bare feet walked on the carpet.

“You have such a nice place. It’s cleaner than I expected.”

You didn’t know what that meant as you got comfortable, slipping your shoes off as you grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge.

“Would you like something to drink?”

“No, thank you. I’m fine,” she replied, awkwardly standing in the middle of the living room until you gestured for her to take a seat. Yerim sat down excitedly, pulling her dress down and crossed her legs as you sat down next to her.

Yerim turned her body towards you and placed a hand on your knee, her full attention yours for the taking as her bright doe eyes lit up.

“This was the first blind date I’ve been on,” Yerim said, leaning in close enough that you could smell her cherry shampoo.

“Me too. Did you have a good time?”

“Yes! I’m still full from all that steak.”

You felt weak in the knees at Yerim’s beauty, the possibility that such a beautiful girl existed seemed to be good to be true. You hesitated to make the first move, but Yerim had it covered as she mounted your lap, wrapping her legs around your waist.

You felt the electricity in the air as Yerim’s lips brushed against yours, meeting for the first time as the sweet taste of her entered your mouth, reminding you of an unforgettable candy.

“You’re so pretty,” you said, the kiss breaking after just a few seconds, leaving you longing for more after just a tease.

“Keep kissing me and I’ll let you see how pretty the rest of me is,” Yerim said, once again without any subtlety. Your hands snaked around her slim waist as your lips met again, her tongue introducing itself and playing around with your own.

“Not bad,” Yerim said as she came up for air, her eyes drunk on lust already. This close you were able to distinguish all the features of her face, her dead drop gorgeous eyes, her cute nose, her luscious lips, it was all a complete package.

“You’re really pretty, Yerim,” you said, complimenting her again as her face reddened and the pale color of her cheeks faded.

“T-thank you,” Yerim said, running a hand through her hair, trying to calm herself down.

“I wasn’t planning on dating anytime soon, but Hyejoo talked me into it. I even got this new dress for the occasion.”

“It looks really good on you.”

“Thank you! I think it’ll look even better on your floor, though,” Yerim said, trying to keep a straight face and failing miserably.

You had no response in return, suddenly rendered speechless but her forwardness.

“It’s my first time. You’ll be gentle, won’t you?” Yerim asked, the innocence in her sparkling eyes shining through.

“W-wait, really?” you asked. Hyejoo didn’t certainly mention something so vital, and Yerim had just dropped this so casually on you that you didn’t know how to react.

“Isn’t it every guy's fantasy to pop a girl’s cherry?” Yerim asked, as she bit the tip of her fingernail.

You scrambled for words to find when Yerim began giggling uncontrollably, trying to save the last of her charade as she placed her hand over her mouth.

“You’re cute when you’re nervous,” Yerim said, as you felt all the color fading from your face.

“Don’t worry, I’m not actually a virgin. I am a good girl though,” she said, as she started grinding herself on your lap.

“Are you? I don’t think this is what good girls do, Yerim,” you said, grabbing her waist to hold her in place.

“Of course! I’m always a good girl…”

“We’ll see about that.”

Yerim’s expression never changed, her eyes keeping the same innocent look in them as if trying to convince you of her words. You moved her hair out of the way and kissed her neck in several places, diving in and gently sucking on the sensitive skin that you found there, causing Yerim to gasp loudly.

“Take me to the bedroom. I think you’re getting excited,” she teased, as blood had begun flowing to your pants, causing an erection to form that she had felt.

“Are you sure about this?” you asked, her gorgeous face a hair's breadth away as you lose yourself in her eyes.

Yerim nodded without hesitation, cupping both sides of your face and swiping her tongue against your lips, taking one more tender kiss, the taste of her lips lingering.

“Yes, I want it. I want you to fuck me,“ she whispered into your ear, her expression finally changing as her eyes opened wide. The innocence was gone, swallowed up by lust as she dismounted your lap and stretched her arm out as you led her to the bedroom.

“Wow, so this must be where you and Hyejoo have all your fun together?” she said, exploring the large bedroom with her eyes.

“Here, the bathroom, the shower, the couch, the kitchen counter…”

Yerim feigned surprise for a moment, stopping at the foot of the bed. “Where are we going to have fun together?”

“Wherever you would like.”

“We can start here,” Yerim said, closing the distance and went in for another makeout session as her slender fingers unbuttoned your shirt, fingers tracing your chest.

“Hyejoo left the part out about you having such a nice body,” Yerim said as she planted a wet kiss on your chest, slipping your shirt off your body as she tossed it away.

“Can’t let her spoil everything about me can we?” you said, exploring her body with your hands, cupping her backside with both hands and grabbing a handful of cheeks.

“It’s my turn then,” Yerim said, turning away from you and letting you see the backside of her little black dress. “Help a girl out?”

You let out a deep breath as you approached, grabbing the top of her zipper’s dress and pulled it down in one smooth movement, exposing her bare back. Yerim turned back around with the shyest of smiles, slipping the dress off her body as it piled at her feet.

Yerim rested her hands on her wide hips, presenting her tight body that was more mouthwatering than the meal you shared earlier. Underneath her dress she had on a cute purple bra, showing a hint of cleavage with matching underwear as she spun around and let you see her the thin piece of fabric nestled in between her delicious asscheeks.

The curves of her body competed with that of Hyejoo minus a smaller chest, competing where it mattered with delicious succulent thighs that you couldn’t wait to get your hands on.

“Like what you see?”

“I do. Is this what good girls wear?” you asked as you pulled her in close, hands wandering around before finding her backside again, squeezing her ass firmly.

“Y-yes! I’ll show you what a good girl I can be,”

Her eyes were filled with excitement as she kept them on you the entire time as she slowly lowered to her knees, staring at the bulge in your pants now at eye level.

“Can I?” Yerim asked with widened eyes, demonstrating her ability to wait for permission as she patiently waited. You gave the go ahead with a simple nod, and she swiftly undid your pants, yanking them down to your ankles as the bulge in your boxers became more prominent.

Yerim was quick to free your shaft from its constraints, hooking her fingers into the waistband of your boxers as she divested them from your body. Blood had rushed to your throbbing shaft as it was freed, almost smacking Yerim’s adorable face as it was met with the cool air.

“Wow...” Yerim said as your revealed cock met her gaze, hungrily admiring every last inch of it as she couldn’t keep her mouth closed. Her fingers wrapped around it, forming a tight fist and pumped up and down slowly, precum dripping out of your slit already as you throbbed in her hand.

Yerim had no time to waste, giving a few soft kisses on your tip as she flattened her tongue at the base of your cock, painting slow upward strokes with her wet tongue, swirling against your leaking slit and collecting every drop.

“Mmm, yummy!” she said, and without hesitation she parted her lips with your shaft, taking you into the warmth of her mouth, sucking on your swollen sensitive tip.

“Oh... f-fuck,” you moaned out, your toes digging into the carpet as the pleasure took over, shooting up your spine. Yerim’s mouth was nothing but pleasurable, delivering radiating warmth as her puckered lips wrapped around your shaft, feeling like the softest silk as she applied a delicate suction and hollowed her squishy cheeks.

You looked up at the lights for a second, trying to distract yourself from the intense feeling of Yerim’s lips sucking you off. It didn’t help much, especially when you felt her warm mouth unexpectedly move deeper, causing you to moan loudly.

You almost regretted looking down, watching as Yerim bobbed her head up and down as she slurped on your shaft, retreating her mouth back when half of you entered her mouth as her playful tongue ran along the sensitive underside of your cock.

“God, that feels amazing,” you said, placing a hand on the back of her head, both to guide her movements and to give yourself a necessary outlet. Yerim took this as encouragement, swiftly sliding her lips up and down your throbbing shaft, leaving behind a trail of glistening warm saliva in her wake.

Yerim looked up, showing the hunger in her eyes, spitting leftover saliva as she furiously stroked your cock.

“Does that feel good, daddy?” she asked, your cock twitching in her small hand, answering for you. Hyejoo had told her one of your little secrets it seemed.

“Please fuck my face, daddy. Fill my throat with this nice cock,” Yerim pleaded, letting any last remnants of innocence slip away.

It was hard not to be taken aback by her filthy words that didn’t match her cute features, but you’d be lying if the juxtaposition didn’t send your arousal level skyrocketing.

Taking control of your shaft you rubbed your tip on her soft warm lips, pushing yourself back into the intoxicating warmth of her mouth. You guided Yerim deeper by pushing the back of her head down until her lips met the base of your shaft. With minimal effort you entered her throat, hitting the back of it as it tightened around you and caused her to gag loudly. You instinctively began to withdraw, but the look in her eyes suggested otherwise.

You grabbed both sides of her head, moving gently as strands of dark hair wrapped around your fingers as you thrusted in and out of her warm mouth, gradually testing her limits. Yerim kept gagging as your tip stuck the back of her throat, but gave no signal she wanted you to stop, her lustful gaze suggesting the opposite.

It didn’t take long for your self control to vanquish itself, carnal desires taking over as you took pleasure from Yerim, fucking her mouth furiously and slapping your balls against her chin as her round eyes began watering with tears.

“Such a good girl. You like being used like this?” you asked, Yerim unable to answer but smiling with a mouth full of cock, slurping and gagging on every inch of throbbing hard flesh.

You never stopped your rough treatment of Yerim’s pretty mouth, ruining her makeup that was no doubt meticulously put on as she tried to tame her gag reflex to no avail. You could see by her watery eyes how much she was enjoying this, dripping down her thighs as she kept her mouth open for you to encourage your forceful use of her throat.

Yerim’s hands didn’t stay idle as they worked the clasp of her bra, discarding it from her body to free her perky tits, only strengthening your erection. She held on to your thighs to brace herself, slobbering on your shaft as you kept her throat filled, taking every thrust like a champ as messy drool spilled out of her lips and coated her bare chest.

Your senses were overwhelmed as Yerim had been turned into a mess, her beautiful face now stained with tears and drool, hair disheveled and out of place. You couldn’t keep this pace up for much longer or you were liable to finish much sooner than you wanted to, forcing her head down and holding her there for several seconds before mercifully withdrawing your shaft from her messy mouth.

Yerim came up for air with several loud gasps, messy strands of spit connected your glistening wet shaft to her smiling lips.

“You really are a good girl,” you said, using your stiff cock and slapping her face several times with your wet shaft as she continued grinning from ear to ear.

"I wasn't lying…"

“I want you on the bed. I’m still a little hungry.”

"Of course, daddy!"

Yerim was quick to obey as she climbed up and crawled on the bed, lying flat on her back as she spread her legs for you, offering herself up like a scrumptious meal.

"Come taste me, daddy," Yerim beckoned, biting her lip as she rubbed her pussy through her skimpy panties, showing off the wet spot staining the front of her crotch that only grew the more she touched herself.

Yerim's perfect body was almost fully unwrapped for you, and you couldn’t take anymore and needed to see every inch, wanting to get in between those thighs you couldn’t stop staring. You joined her on the bed and peeled her panties off without hesitation down her sexy legs, revealing her bare pussy and the prettiest set of lips that were dripping with arousal.

"Beautiful," you said as you laid flat on your stomach, positioning yourself and spreading her legs wider as Yerim blushed in response.

“T-thank you, daddy.”

You grew tired of staring and wanted to take action, planting several kisses on Yerim’s bare thighs in different places, never putting your lips on the same part of skin twice. She squirmed at your touch as you teased her, placing your mouth dangerously close to her pussy but refusing to touch her center.

"D-daddy, please-"

“What is it, baby? What do you need?” you asked, swiping your tongue against her luscious thighs to taste her creamy skin, lapping up juices that had already spilled out of her core and sampling them.

“Eat my pussy, p-please, daddy.”

“You’re cute when you beg. I’m gonna make you do more of that,” you said, lowering your head in between her open legs and giving one slow swipe of your tongue against her pink dripping slit.

"O-oh f-fuck, daddy," Yerim moaned as you gave several licks repeatedly, exploring her wet tolds with your tongue. You slipped your tongue inside her juicy pussy, gathering her delicious nectar on your tastebuds and gave a few swipes against her cilt before sucking on it.

"Your pussy tastes so fucking good,” you said, slurping on her swollen clit as you felt the warmth of her thighs on either side of your face, wrapping around your head and squeezing. You looked straight into Yerim’s round, lust-filled eyes as you ate her out, watching her bliss overtake her features as you lapped up all her leaking juices, drinking up every drop.

“F-fuck, you’re really good at that,” Yerim cried out, her hips bucking with a mind of their own. You brought a finger inside her dripping wet cunt, then a second short after, thrusting into her tight little hole as you kept your lips secured around her swollen clit, slurping harshly on it.

“That feels so good, o-oh my god, please d-don’t stop, daddy…”

Yerim grew wetter and wetter, your fingers being drenched with her slick as you messily ate her out, her thighs squeezing your head tighter as her breathing became shallow. You kept eye contact as your fingers plunged to the hilt, the warm walls of her cunt squeezing your wet fingers, not letting you go.

“J-ust like that, I’m so c-close, f-fuck!”

You kept firm pressure on her clit as her moans grew stronger and longer, lips suckling harshly on her sensitive nub as you helped her chase what she was desperate for, drinking in her nectar as it filled your mouth.

“D-daddy, I-I’m going to cum!”

Yerim suffocated you with her thighs as you kept your lips on her clit, fucking her with your fingers without mercy as grabbed onto your head, pushing you deeper into her delicious pussy as she couldn’t take it any more.

“O-oh, oh my god, daddy, I’m cumming!”

Yerim’s muscles tensed up as her toes curled, flooding your mouth with her sweet succulent honey. Her hips bucked uncontrollably as you helped her hit her peak, her thighs trembling around your head, smearing her juices all over your lips and chin, drowning you with her pleasure.

It was loud and messy, an unforgettable clmax for Yerim as you helped her come down from it gently, slurping with less force and removing your lips from her sensitive clit. Your fingers however, stayed deep inside her as her thighs lost the power they held around your head.

“I want you to cum again for me,” you ordered, pumping your fingers furiously inside her dripping tight hole, her wetness sucking you in.

“I-I can’t, p-please, daddy, I’m still sensitive…”

“You said you’re a good girl didn’t you? I want you to cum one more time.”

You had no plans of letting up, both fingers buried to the hilt inside Yerim’s pussy, keeping up the stimulation on her body as you felt her cunt pulsating again. The wet squelch of her warm hole filled the room as you never stopped moving, keeping her pussy filled as tears welled up in her sparkling eyes as you demanded another orgasm out of her.

“Cum for me, baby, I know you can do it. One more time, I want to see how wet you can really get.”

“P-please, I-I, f-fuck, o-oh fuck!”

Yerim was a beautiful squirming mess, her thighs covered in her own juices as she let out desperate gasps and moans, the intense stimulation overwhelming her body and all her senses.

“D-daddy, p-please!”

You weren’t planning on stopping until you got what you wanted and what Yerim deserved. Your wrist felt like it was on fire as fingers were kept curled inside her heat, moving frantically with one goal in mind.

Yerim barely had time to register the growing knot in her abdomen, still focused on the intense aftershocks running throughout her body that she quickly came without warning. Her orgasm was much stronger as slick juices gushed out of her sensitive pussy that forced your fingers out of her as she squirted all over you and the bed, staining the sheets and leaving a dark mess on the bed.

Yerim shook uncontrollably as her second consecutive orgasm winded down, you helped her out by caressing her thighs to calm her down, rubbing her pussy with your palm.

“P-please, s-stop, I can’t take anymore, p-please,” she begged, and you had your fill, ceasing any form of contact as her sounds of gasping heightened, her chest uninterruptedly heaving up and down.

“Good girl. Are you okay?” you asked, making a show of cleaning your fingers off with her juices.

“Y-yes, I’m fine, daddy. That was intense, I’ve never had anyone do that before,” she said, struggling to form full syllables.

You patiently waited for Yerim to regain her composure, giving all the time she needed. It took several moments for the trembling in her body to control itself, as the lustful gaze in her eyes returned, and you knew that meant she was ready for the next step.

“Will you fuck me now, daddy?”

“If you insist,” you replied, getting into position as your knees pressed against the still drenched sheets as you maneuvered in between her spread thighs. Yerim pushed her knees up and feet flat on the mattress as the anticipation of what you both desired was at an all-time high.

Gazing into her eyes with your cock in hand, you eagerly lined yourself up with Yerim’s pussy, sliding in between the warm flesh of her drenched pussy lips, stalling your desires to enter her body. You parted her folds, playing with her slippery flesh and refusing to do anything else but tease her entrance.

“P-please, put it inside me, daddy. I’ve been a good girl.”

“You have, but I want you to beg for it. Beg for me to fuck you.”

Yerim whined audibly as your cock loitered around her inviting opening, spreading her juices around and denying her the pleasure she desperately sought. It wasn’t going to be that easy for you to give in.

“P-please, please fuck me, daddy. I’m so wet, I need to feel your cock inside my tight little pussy!”

“I don’t think you really mean it,” you said, watching the desperation in her eyes as you slapped her clit with your cock. Yerim squirmed as you nudged the tip of your cock against her hole, teasing penetration but stopping at the last moment, leaving her unsatisfied and empty.

“P-please! I can’t take it anymore, please fuck me, daddy!”

You felt like you could go on like this forever, but your own self-control was being tested as the more you teased her the more you wanted to be inside her. Yerim continued to plead and beg, reduced to a desperate whiny mess and starving for cock as you looked straight into her eyes and slid inside her in one smooth stroke, parting the wet hungry lips of her cunt.

“O-oh my god.”

Yerim opened her mouth to let out a moan, her eyes struggling to stay open as flesh entered inside her. She tilted her head back as she was finally given what she craved as the tip of your cock disappeared inside her heat. Yerim was overwhelmingly tight, her walls suffocated your cock and you wanted to savor such an unforgettable feeling for as long as you could, lazily moving your hips.

You started out slowly, wanting Yerim to earn every single thrust. Her silky wet walls felt heavenly around your shaft, her warmth so intoxicating as you slid in and out of her pussy at a gingerly pace. She felt so wet, so hot, so tight inside that you couldn’t help but keep your pace slow at first, wanting to drown in all the intense sensations that flooded your body.

“Your pussy feels so amazing,” you said, as Yerim’s body tested your patience as you slid an inch deeper at a time, until you had bottomed her out. Her wetness was so prominent that you were able to move inside her effortlessly, her messy juices lubricating your sluggish thrusts.

“Do you like how tight I am, daddy? I’m much tighter than Hyejoo aren’t I?” Yerim asked as she adjusted to your length, keeping her desperate eyes glued to your own as you began to move more forcefully inside her, fueling your desires to give her everything and more.

“You’re so big, daddy. I want to be pounded senseless, ruin me please!”

“You have such a dirty little mouth don’t you, baby? I’m starting to think you aren’t a good girl after all,” you told her, upping your pace and fucking her harder as you grabbed her warm thighs, slipping into the wet depths of her hot constricting cunt.

Yerim feigned the hint of surprise on her face as she moaned, arms by her side and holding on to your bed sheets as she relaxed into the mattress.

“T-that’s not true, daddy. I’m not a bad girl…”

She struggled to keep her eyes open as pleasure took control of her body, and you felt no need to hold back and began pistoning your hips, pounding her pussy and stuffing her full of cock.

“I don’t think you’re a good girl. But I think you’re a little slut,” you said as you gave her the hardest thrust of the night, making her gasp at how deep your cock fit inside her.

“I-I’m not a slut, I’m a good-ah!”

Yerim’s denial was interrupted as you lifted her luscious legs into the air, draping them over your shoulders. You were able to hit spots you couldn’t before, thrusting carelessly into her pussy as the bed became an orchestra of noisy squeaks and audible moans.

“O-oh fuck, right there! just like that, daddy!”

You had no plans on stopping now that Yerim had unshackled the chains of desire, hugging her legs while your hips went wild as you drove yourself repeatedly into her comfortable warm hole.

It was impossible to concentrate on anything else with how good she felt and the never-ending wetness that smothered your shaft as you established a perfect rhythm and looked directly into Yerim’s eyes as you stretched her out.

“Such a good little slut, taking this cock so well,” you hissed, feeling her pussy clench around your cock at the second use of the word she swore she wasn’t, her body betraying her. Yerim let out wordless gasps and moans as you kept the momentum up with no end in sight.

Yerim’s moans grew and grew as your rhythm sped up, her flushed skin becoming warmer to touch as you kept her filled airtight, her walls pulsating around your drenched shaft.

“You’re going to cum again?”

“Y-yes, I’m so close! Please don’t stop…”

“You can’t. Not until you admit what a slut you are.”

“B-but I’m not...I’m a good girl I promise!” she said, desperately trying to keep up the act.

You slowed down your thrusts at the result of her defiance, practically at a standstill, resting inside her.

“N-no, wait! P-please, I’m so c-close. Let me cum, please, let me cum, daddy.”

You refused until she gave you want you wanted, only thrusting into her body every few seconds, driving her crazy.

“Say it. Tell me and I’ll make you feel better than you ever have before.”

Yerim was left with no other options, frustratedly grabbing on to the sheets as the fire in her abdomen kept burning.

“I’-I’m a slut. I’m a needy little slut that needs to cum!”

“No, you’re a good little slut. Now cum on my cock,” you corrected, reestablishing your pace and driving every inch of hard flesh inside her. Her walls clenched almost painfully tight, her wetness growing as you pounded her into the mattress.

“D-daddy, I-I’m cumming!”

Yerim’s orgasm didn’t dawdle, her toes curling into the sheets as her back arched, taking every inch of flesh into her wet pussy. You fucked her straight through her strongest orgasm of the night, her legs shaking in your hands as she came hard. If your sheets weren’t ruined before she made sure they were.

“Good little slut” you purred, letting her legs drop from your shoulders gently as your pace slowed down, caressing her face as her glazed over eyes could barely stay open.

“D-don’t you need to cum too, daddy?” Yerim asked with several shallow breaths, doing her best to form a sweet smile. You leaned forward and kissed her, tasting the cherries on her lips and watched her chest slowly heaving up and down, almost hypnotizing you.

“Not yet. I’m not done having fun with you.”

Letting her rest for a moment you slowly withdrew from her drenched pussy, watching your shaft glistening with her juices in the lights as you left her body empty, whines escaping her lips. Hands on her hips you nudged her as she turned over, getting on her hands and knees.

Yerim settled into position, displaying the naked curves of her body, ripe for the taking. She granted you all access to her delicious bent over body, her head resting on the mattress and her plump ass raised in the air.

Her pretty pink lips were still splayed open after your treatment of her, but you were just getting started, rubbing your painfully hard shaft between her warm buttcheeks as you prepared yourself to enter her pussy.

Yerim’s skin was so soft as you used her cheeks to massage your throbbing shaft, you couldn’t take much of being outside her. Not wasting time you lined yourself back up with her tight hole, poking against her entrance again with no plans to keep her waiting, needing to find yourself buried in her smothering warmth.

Taking a deep breath you looked at the pleading look in Yerim’s eyes as she patiently looked over her shoulder. You popped your hips and slid in an inch inside her dripping heat before letting the rest sink inside.

Yerim gasped as her pussy swallowed up your cock hungrily and refused to let you go, enveloping you in a familiar warmth and wetness as she lowered her head, fingers wrapped around in your sheets.

“Such a tight little slut, aren’t you? You want daddy to pound this tight pussy?”

“Yes, daddy! Don’t hold back this time, okay? I can take it!”

There wasn’t any reason not to give Yerim just what she asked for as you placed your hands on her supple cheeks, squeezing the soft flesh and kneading it, pressing your fingertips into her warm flushed skin.

“Fuck me!”

Yerim was just every bit demanding as your mutual friend and fuckbuddy Hyejoo, and if she wanted to be treated the same you were going to oblige her. She was all yours and you were going to make the most of it as you started at a rapid pace, finding a harsh rhythm and drove yourself deep inside, making her scramble for a tighter grip on the sheets.

“You’re so fucking wet. Good girls definitely don’t drip all over my cock like this.”

Yerim couldn’t find a response, answering back only in lustful erotic moans as you increased your pace, moving your hands to her wide hips and squeezing her flesh hard enough to bruise in the morning.

“Harder! F-fuck me harder, daddy, please!”

“Since you asked so nicely…”

Yerim so impossibly tight that it almost hurt as you plunged every single inch of flesh in her, making sure your hips smacked against her big ass, causing her plump cheeks to ripple in time with your thrusts as she arched her back high.

“Oh f-fuck, you’re so deep! H-harder, daddy!”

“So needy,” you said, gripping her hips even tighter to pull her back against your cock, slamming into her pussy without mercy and using no wasted movements. You flattened your palm and gave her beautiful tight ass a hard smack that echoed across the room.

Her pussy clenched in response as she let out a loud gasp, and you gave her another slap on the other cheek as her walls tightened around you, threatening to push you out of her body.

“F-fuck!”

“So you’re a slut that loves to be spanked, huh? Hyejoo left out so many things,” you said, smacking her ass repeatedly in the same spot until you left a faint handprint on her pale skin.

“Y-yes! I’m a naughty little slut that loves to be spanked and used!”

Your smacks against her plump ass grew harder, her tender flesh rippling with each flick of your wrist. Yerim’s walls clenched each time you smacked her delicious ass, the mixture of pain and pleasure causing her natural juices to flood down her thighs.

“P-please don’t stop!” Yerim begged, looking back at you with desperation as you saw tears had formed in her eyes. You gave a brief moment of respite, massaging the sore reddened skin until she signaled she was ready for another round.

You struck her cheeks with more force, winding your arm back to deliver slap after slap, making sure you hit the same part of her ass as found the handprints that made such an easy target. Her sensitive skin grew a brighter shade of red with each smack, each harsh slap made her wetter and wetter.

You looked down at your handiwork, your cock disappearing into between bright red buttcheeks that you found it impossible not to want even more out of her body as you pulled her arms behind her, grabbing her dainty wrists with a tight grip.

“I’m really going to fucking ruin you,” you growled, pounding away into Yerim as if it a fire had just been lit inside you, dropping all sense of self control as your animalistic urges took over.

You were anything but gentle, fucking Yerim with the harshest thrusts your body could give. Shortly after sweat began to drip down your forehead, misting over Yerim’s naked back.

“Th-that’s so good, you’re fucking me so well, daddy!”

Yerim could barely keep it together, her pussy dripping like a faucet as she found it hard to think straight, all thoughts ceased except the hard throbbing cock ravaging her cunt without any care.

“F-fuck, d-daddy! You’re gonna make me cum again!”

Your breathing grew as shallow as hers, the loud slap of hot flesh against hot flesh filled your ears alongside Yerim’s lustful moans as your hips smacked her ass, your sweaty bodies clinging together.

“Cum for me. Cum again for me you greedy little slut.”

It only took until your sentence had ended. Yerim was teetering on the edge and your words and actions pushed her over it, unable to control herself any longer she selfishly took her fourth climax of the night. It was the weakest of the bunch but still no less satisfying, toes curling in the mattress as her orgasm jerked her whole body, and had you not had control of her arms it would have been easy for her to fall face first into the mattress.

Her wet hot pussy squeezed your cock so hard that you prepared yourself to follow in her footsteps, giving into the mind-numbing pleasure and released the grip on her wrists. Your hands found their rightful place on her hips as you pounded her pussy as long as you both could stand it.

“I-I’m gonna fucking cum too. Where do you want it?”

“Yay! Cum inside me, daddy! Please, I need my pussy filled so badly, p-please!”

You had just enough time to wait for her response, your body not waiting much longer, finding it harder and harder to breathe and it was impossible to leave the warmth of her silky dripping cunt.

Looking down between your legs, you used all your remaining energy as your cock disappeared in between her cheeks, no longer fighting the urge to hold back anything as the sweat on your bodies increased, as did the harsh sounds of your bodies slapping against one another.

You reached your peak with ease thanks to the vigorous use of Yerim’s body. It was just too much to handle as your pulsating shaft erupted inside her, moaning loudly and sending shot after shot of thick semen into the suffocatingly tight walls of her heavenly wet pussy.

Using all the energy you had left you finished up your final thrusts, slowing down the movement of your hips and ensuring not a drop was left. You were both exhausted, tired gasps and heavy panting filled the room but you couldn’t help but give her backside one more squeeze as your cock rested inside her.

“You came so much...it’s so warm…”

Once your senses had recovered and you withdrew an inch at a time as your depleted cock slipped out of Yerim’s freshly fucked pussy, leaving a stream of thick milky cum leaking out of her that dripped down her thighs, mixing with the already prevalent juices that had ruined your bedsheets.

You had just enough energy to let your tired self plop on the tortured mattress, Yerim crashing on top as your sweaty bodies melded together in a mess of limbs.

“That was amazing…” Yerim managed to mutter out, drained syllables barely leaving her sweet lips in a coherent sentence, her head resting on your chest while you draped an arm over her back, pulling her in tight.

“Do you want to clean up? My shower is big enough for two,” you said, making Yerim drip between her messy thighs again as you fixed strands of sweaty disheveled hair out of place.

“I can barely move,” Yerim giggled, flashing a weak smile.

“Don’t move then. Take all the time you need.”

“This was a wonderful date. Thank you, daddy.”

Yerim quickly fell asleep in your arms, out like a light. You were about to follow her until a buzz on your nightstand interrupted you from doing so.

Hyejoo deserved some credit, and you’d had to thank her in the morning. For now all you could do was drift away to sleep, thankful for the amazing night with Yerim and also that she wasn’t a snorer.

[13uswntimagines]

She Might be a Forward, but You’re a Keeper (Emily Sonnett x Reader)

Request: Emily x reader where r doesn’t have the best reputation and is sorta known for being a troublemaker but once Emily comes into the picture everything changes. Livin’ The Dream by Morgan Wallen is what made this pop into head.

Author’s Note: Firstly, Firerfly and i thank the one voter so much for voting for this fic. Secondly this almost didn’t happen because my dumbass deleted from the doc just seconds after we had finished it. Thank you to @literaryhedgehog​ for saving it. 

“You have to do it Sonnett,” Lindsey said sternly, taking a sip of her drink and ignoring Emily’s puppy eyes. She wasn’t going to feel bad about this. It was only fair, since she was the one who got them caught. 

“Yeah,” Rose added, crossing her arms. “consider it your punishment for not following through on our prank on Pino.” Meghan had been pissed, and the lecture they had gotten did not seem to fit the crime, especially since they had been stopped. All they wanted to do was start an itsy bitsy prank war. Where was the harm in that?

“Oh come on.” Emily whined, glancing back and forth between the two girls and the woman standing on the other side of the room. “She would have murdered me if I let you put blue dye in her shampoo,” Emily said, her bottom lip trembling. 

“And now Y/n might kill you so we’re even,” Lindsey shrugged, fighting a smile. Whatever way this ended, it would be entertaining for her. 

Some might think that that it was a gross overstatement, but it wasn’t. You had a reputation. A terrifying history of explosions on the pitch, and a complete lack of approachability off of it. You didn’t give a shit what anyone thought, Alex and Kelley being the only exception, but you had known them forever so it didn’t count. 

You didn’t have many friends (contrary to what the public though), but you were viciously loyal to the people you actually let get close to you. 

The youngins had been warned that you did whatever (and whoever) you wanted and they should steer clear. You wouldn’t mess with them as long as they didn’t mess with you. 

The problem was that the blond defender was smitten from the first moment she saw you this season. When she had first joined the team you had just been another veteran and the excitement of joining the national team had overshadowed everything else. But then you transferred to Washington during Club season and she started noticing you everywhere.  Partially because you were everywhere- weaving around the field and her vision, at team events and now here at camp, and… she might have been caughts staring once or twice. Maybe Emily had tripped over her own feet a few times because she accidentally got distracted by the sight of you pouring water over your head after a hot practice, who's to say. Either way,  her two meddling best friends knew about her little crush and had decided to use it as blackmail. 

“I hate you guys,”  Emily said, downing half her drink for liquid courage. 

Lindsey rolled her eyes and shoved the defenders shoulder. “No you don’t,” 

“You better get your ass over there before she starts flirting with another girl,” Rose said with a disinterested wave of her hand, motioning towards the dejected Brunette walking away from you. There was a parade of women all night, and it seemed none of them were having any luck. 

Your eyes followed the woman as she left, but your face didn’t betray any emotions, appearing completely uncaring to anyone who happened to glance in your direction. 

Emily nodded. It was now or never she supposed. 

*****

You took an uninterested sip of you beer, swirling your finger around the glass when you set it back down on the bar. You had never exactly found team bar nights fun. It felt like thousands of people would come up and talk to you (and call you by name) and expect you to instantly be their friend. 

You didn’t need anymore friends. 

You took another sip of your flat beer, making a mental note to chastise Alex later for her terrible bar choice, and stared listlessly at the football (American style) game on the tv. 

“Hey, wanna hear a joke about paper?” You turned slowly to look at the speaker. You squinted at the blond defender, tilting your head to the side, not letting your surprise that a youngin actually had the balls to talk to you off the pitch show on your face. 

She scratched the back of her head grinning impishly at you. “Never mind, it’s tearable.”

You raised your eyebrow at the woman, you lips ticking up slightly at her adorable fidgeting. 

That seemed to give her confidence, as she set her drink down and slid into the unaccompanied stool next to you. 

“Why didn’t the vampire attack Taylor Swift? She had bad blood.” 

You suppressed your snort at the terrible joke, hiding it behind a sip of your bad beer. 

“It’s more fun if you actually let me respond before you hit me with the punchline,” You smirked, thoroughly entertained by the pink starting to bloom on the defenders cheeks. 

“Oh, my bad.” Emily said, making an embarrassed face. “Sorry, I often tell dad jokes- most of the time he laughs!’

This time you did snort, the smile you were holding back finally cracking across your lips. 

“Just most of the time? Sounds to me like you need to get a better one,”

“Is that a challenge I hear?” Emily said, a wicked gleam in her eye. A terrible joke competition was right up her alley.

“Not at all. I could never compete with someone with your… particular skill set. You should be a magician because you just make girls disappear,” You wiggled your fingers, mimicking a magical motion. 

“Ouch,” Emily said, holding back giggles. 

“You could let me ice that burn as consolation,” You shrugged, also holding in a giggle. 

“Nah, I just need to wait a little for it to warm back up. You know what the hottest time of day is?”

“No, what?”

“Two- flirty!”

You cackled loudly, nearly throwing your head back. 

****

“Is the Ice Queen actually smiling?” Kelley asked, sliding into the booth beside Alex, passing a disgustingly fruity drink to her girlfriend. 

“It appears so,” Alex nodded, pushing the stupid mini unbrella out of her way to take a sip. 

Her eyes followed your laughing form, taking in how your eyes lit up, and the way you leaned closer to the blond defender. It wasn’t your typically cocky posture when you talked to girls, you seemed much more unguarded. 

“Who knew Junior had it in her. I never thought she’d work up the courage,” Kelley smirked over the edge of her drink. Emily’s crush on you wasn’t a secret (to the two of them at least), but they never dreamed Emily would actually make a move. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Y/n look at anyone like that.” Alex started thoughtfully. “Well maybe-”

“We don’t speak her name Alex,” Kelley interrupted with a glare. They didn’t talk about your previous relationship. It had nearly ruined you completely. 

Rose and Lindsey joined Alex and Kelley where they were standing, all four trying to hide the fact that they were staring at you and Emily together. 

“You enjoying the show too?” Rose said, shaking her head slightly as she watched. What the heck could you two be talking about? For a few seconds she saw you talk animatedly then - in unison with Emily - double over in laughter. 

“You know something about this that we don’t?” Alex asked, glancing at the two younger players. 

Rose and Lindsey exchanged a look. “Sonnett’s only over there because we made her,” Lindey said. 

“How?”

“Told her we’d rat her out to Vlatko for the snack incident last camp,” Rose shrugged. Revenge was best served with blackmail. 

“I didn’t know she had a soft side,” Lindsey said after a few minutes. 

“Only a few people actually get to see it,” Kelley shrugged. You were guarded but not heartless. It just took a special touch to break that cast iron shell. 

****

“Okay, okay. So I know a guy who's great at soccer but is super untidy.”

“You do?” You asked, biting your lip. You weren’t sure why you were suddenly nervous. 

“Yeah, he’s just a Messi guy!” Emily said, already laughing on the last word. 

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “I think these are just getting worse,” 

“Oh come on, you were the one who told the one about a frog liking hoppy beer,” Emily said, rolling her eyes. “I think that one was objectively worse.”

“Whatever you say cutie pie,” you said, leaning forward on your hand. You weren’t usually this interested in conversation. You were more of an… in and out kinda girl. But there was something about Emily that intrigued you. That pulled you in and made you want to know more about her than just her bedroom preferences. 

“Pie sounds so good right now,” Emily said sighing deeply. “I don’t even have a joke to go with that, I just like pie. Although I think I read one at some point for Pi day, I could google it…” 

“I don’t know any jokes either, but I do know a place pretty close to here if you wanted to ditch these losers,” You offered, picking idly at your napkin. 

“Losers? I didn’t know the men’s team was here!” Emily smirked. You didn’t know if she was blowing you off, or just completely missed what you were implying. 

“See that one was actually a good one. Those idiots wouldn’t know how to score if they were shooting at the broadside of a barn,” You shook your head. Half of the women’s team midfield had better finishing stats than all the men’s forwards. They were terrible. 

“Oh come on. They’re not that bad. At least 9% of them are keepers,” Emily laughed. “Well that’s their position anyway. But yes, I would love to go get some pie with you. Just don’t tell Dawn I broke my diet.” 

“No promises Princess,” You said standing, and holding out your hand to the woman. You kissed the back of her hand when she laced her fingers with yours, earning yourself another giggle. 

It made your heart flutter, and you just wanted more. 

“You sure you’re okay missing the end of the party?” Emily said hopefully, scanning as if to make sure no one would waylay you on your way out the door. The last thing she wanted was to get stopped by one of your parade of brunettes. 

“Better than okay. The word happiness might start with an H, but mine starts with U.” 

[haikyuuhoo]

Heavenly

Pairing: Oikawa x Reader

Words: 515

A/N: Soooo I had absolutely zero intention of writing this, but I was listening to Heavenly by Broadside and felt compelled to write something. Hopefully this little bit of Oikawa fluff can make up for my prolonged absence :) Felt a bit rusty writing this so pls lmk what you think!

Oikawa woke to the feeling of soft lips pressing gentle kisses over the expanse of his shoulders, your breath fanning across the bare skin as you worked your way across his body.

“Good morning.”

He smiled lazily, an appreciative hum rumbling in his chest at the way your voice vibrated up the back of his neck. “Morning,” he sighed, turning his head to face you a bit more.

A smile formed on your lips at the sight of his cheek squished against the pillow, strands of hair falling in front of his still closed eyes and framing his face in a way that had you staring.

He peeked an eye open when he noticed your silence, a questioning noise bubbling from the back of his throat.

You simply shook your head and leaned down again, pressing a kiss to his forehead and then to his eyelids when he let them flutter back shut. “Nothing,” you whispered, and he had to fight off a shiver at the closeness of your voice. Your hand slid up from beneath the sheets, over his back and his shoulder and then down his arm. You laced your fingers together with his where they laid beneath his head under the pillow. “’M just gonna miss you,” you finally admitted, pressing your cheek against his back.

A small frown that you couldn’t see made its way onto his face. “I know,” he murmured. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “I’m gonna miss you too.”

You kissed his spine. “Don’t go finding someone better than me when you’re gone.”

Part of him wanted to scoff at the request. How could he ever find someone that was there for him like you were through all of his highs and lows, who he never wanted to spend a night without, who made him feel like he was living in a daydream?

He would never find someone who could make him feel like you—who was as good as you.

He knew it was a joke, but he also knew you well enough to be able to detect the hint of seriousness in your tone.

Slowly, Oikawa turned over, forcing you to abandon your place sprawled over him and move back toward your side of the bed. He propped himself up on an elbow and let himself look at you for the first time that morning. The way the sun shone through the sheer curtains and splashed across your skin made you look positively heavenly. You were glowing, even though he was going to be leaving in mere hours.

It was then that he realized you would never need him. You were good enough—more than good enough—on your own. But it didn’t stop him from selfishly wanting you for the rest of his life, nor did it stop you from granting him with a love filled with far more passion than you’d ever had for anything.

You didn’t need him, but you had him.

“Never,” he breathed, and he could have sworn that rainbows danced along the edges of your skin.

You had him forever.

[somedaylazysomeday]

Bitten

Commander Wolffe x fem!reader. To distract you from your unrequited crush on Broadside, you agree to let Wolffe distract you.

Rating: NC-17, explicit, lemon, etc. Minors DNI!

Word Count: 5,100

Warnings: unrequited feelings, alcohol use, dom!Wolffe, thigh grinding, semi-public sexual activity, power plays, fingering, oral sex (female receiving), spanking, unprotected piv (be smarter than that irl!), creampie.

Next | Masterlist

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Broadside was gorgeous.

He looked like all of his brothers, of course. He was a clone trooper, a pilot attached to the 501st. But there was something about his smile that made your heart beat faster while others left you unaffected. You couldn’t tear your mind away from the flex of his arms when he crossed them over his chest, that half-dimple that only showed up when he was teasing you, the way his hair curled over the tips of his ears…

It was only too bad that he didn’t want you.

You didn’t actually realize that you had voiced that aloud until Gemma, your best friend and fellow 79’s guest for the evening, gave a loud scoff. “He might want you; you didn’t bother to ask. You want a relationship and you don’t know what Broadside wants. All you know for sure is that he’s looking for a quick fuck tonight.”

That was true. From your spot at one of the small tables near the bar, you had a perfect view of Broadside as he cradled a stunning Pantoran female, kissing her deeply in a way that made your heart ache with both jealousy and longing.

Gemma wasn’t done, though. “The thing we have left to figure out is what you want tonight. Any ideas?”

“I-” you said slowly, trying to conjure up an idea of what you actually wanted. “I think I might just want to go home.”

“Good guess, but wrong,” Gemma told you. “I’m feeling particularly psychic tonight and I can tell… what you want… is to get absolutely railed by a trooper.”

Startled laughter sounded from behind your shoulder and you turned to find the section’s pretty Zeltron waitress - wearing a nametag that read Ieri - behind you. She saw you looking and instantly apologized, stepping closer to be heard over the loud music. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to listen in.”

“Don’t apologize for a superpower,” Gemma waved away, glancing around as if to reference the noisy atmosphere. “You have any insider tips for my friend here?”

Ieri put a perfectly polished finger to her lips. “I actually might. See that trooper over there? The booth on the second level, tucked back in the corner?”

You followed her directions with your eyes, tracking to the booth she had mentioned. There was only one trooper sitting there, sitting at the back of a rounded booth cushion. He still wore armor from his waist down. He was watching the room with half a scowl on his handsome face, though that could have been a false impression given by the pronounced scar slicing down across his eye. It had clearly been a traumatic injury, if you were to take a hint from the brightly glinting silver of a cybernetic eye.

“The one who’s balancing sex appeal with a bad attitude?” Gemma asked dryly.

“That’s Wolffe. He’s a commander,” Ieri explained, leaning closer as she added, “And that’s not just his rank.”

You swallowed reflexively. You had been skeptical about this idea for all two minutes since Gemma had come up with it, but now? Now… you were starting to see the merits. Commander Wolffe…

“He’s just the one you need,” Ieri said with a firm nod. “Trust me.”

“Yeah, trust her,” Gemma urged. “Look at her, she obviously knows her way around a bedroom.”

“Gemma!” you chided loudly, hoping your overly open friend hadn’t offended the helpful Zeltron female.

“What? It was a compliment!” Gemma defended, giving Ieri a slow wink. “I’m straight...-ish, but I’m not that straight, you know?”

Ieri’s smile widened. “Now, honey, who told you that’s my favorite kind of compliment?”

Gemma’s gaze heated, but Ieri looked back at you. “Full disclosure, this is all information I’ve gotten from other people. Wolffe isn’t quite… my type.” Her lingering perusal of Gemma made it clear what exactly her type was. “But I have it on good authority that he knows how to take care of a lady. Might help you shut your mind off for a while.”

“That’s exactly what she needs!” Gemma encouraged. “Here, you can have my shot. Now, go and talk to him!”

With your throat still burning from the shot of mystery alcohol, you climbed the stairs that led to the second floor. Since this was 79’s, you did have to step over a couple making out in the narrow stairwell, but you made it without incident. When you were crossing the balcony-like second floor on your way to Wolffe’s booth, your nerves started to get the better of you, but a glance past the dance floor showed that Gemma and Ieri were unabashedly watching your progress. You clenched your jaw and stood in front of the booth holding the mysterious commander.

He saw you immediately, you were sure of that much. No clone trooper worth his genes could have missed your approach, much less a clone commander. Still, Wolffe made you wait, slowly dragging his attention away from the dance floor to you, letting his mismatched gaze climb from your feet to your face. When you were left staring at each other, one dark eyebrow arched in silent question.

“Can I sit with you?” you asked, cursing yourself for not having come up with an opening line before this point. “Everywhere else is full.”

Now the other eyebrow flew up as well and you fought to keep your composure as he glanced around at the other booths on the second level - several of which were empty. With a smirk curling his lips, he inclined his head at the empty seat beside him. You sat down gracelessly.

And were left at an utter loss as to where to go from there.

You introduced yourself, ending with, “Uh… Can I- can I buy you a drink?”

“Wolffe.” His eyes had traveled back to the dance floor as he sipped from his mostly full glass. “Never say no to another whiskey.”

“Whiskey,” you repeated, fumbling for the datapad attached to the sticky table. The smudged screen was hard to read with the club’s flashing lights bouncing around, but you managed to order a whiskey for him and a hyperdrive for yourself.

And then you sat in silence as you waited for a server droid to appear with your drinks. Or, at least, what passed for silence in a crowded club. You followed Wolffe’s lead and studied the dance floor for most of that time. Just as a droid whirred closer, your eyes fell on Broadside’s booth. He and his companion for the evening were getting heated in their booth.

That ugly mixture of jealousy and longing twisted through your chest again and you took a gulp of your hyperdrive before you even sent Wolffe’s whiskey spinning his direction.

The commander caught the sliding glass easily, brow raised again. He was watching you now, studying you as if you were suddenly more interesting than the activity on the dance floor. You didn’t care - you were tapping at the datapad again. You were gonna need another hyperdrive.

“Broadside,” Wolffe said lowly.

You fought not to flinch at the sound of the name, turning to face Wolffe instead. “What about him?”

“You keep watching him,” he told you bluntly. “You have been since you walked into 79’s tonight.”

“And how would you know that?” you asked.

Wolffe’s gaze slid away again. “I’m not blind.”

Suddenly, one side of his mouth quirked up and you turned to see Gemma and Ieri exploring each other’s mouths. You grimaced. Great, now you were going to get shown up by your friend and the beautiful waitress.

“I could make you forget him.” Wolffe’s offer was unprompted and you turned back with your brows raised. “At least for the night.”

“Yes.” You had to pause to take a drink - your mouth was too dry to speak without some help. “Please.”

“Are you ready to follow orders?” he asked, sounding deceptively casual given that you could see the tension in his body.

“Yes,” you breathed. His brow flicked upward and you belatedly realized that you should have had questions about that. You smiled at him and gave a one-shouldered shrug. “You’re not the only one who isn’t blind. I asked about you.”

“That so?” he asked, and downed his whiskey as you nodded. “Look at me.”

You did as he commanded, though it was mostly due to the change in his voice. Wolffe’s voice had been low and rough from the beginning of your conversation, but now… the steel in his words had you fascinated.

“Sit here,” was the next order, accompanied by an explanatory pat of his thigh.

You immediately obeyed, moving to perch on his armored leg as you smoothed your skirt under the backs of your thighs. Wolffe made a sharp noise low in his throat and you paused, knees wobbling as you realized what he wanted. The commander nodded in confirmation and you straddled his thigh instead. His gray and white armor pressed against you, the coolness startling against the budding heat at your center.

“Good girl,” Wolffe said approvingly.

You fought not to make a noise of your own at that, the praise doing unexpected things to you. His hands gripped your waist and pulled you closer, letting the lips of your pussy drag open around the sharp curve that topped his thigh armor.

Just as you lost the battle against making noise, Wolffe swallowed your moan. The commander took advantage of your open mouth to push his tongue past your lips. He explored your mouth with the leisure of a man with all the time in the world even as his hands kept you pressed firmly against his thigh.

When one of his hands left your waist, it was only to make the short trip up to your breast. He slipped his hand under your shirt without difficulty and dodged the barrier of your bra with a practiced wiggle of his fingers. You sucked in a breath at the feeling against your ticklish ribs, then groaned at the pressure resulting from your squirming. That groan only increased in volume when his thumb found your nipple.

You had known the troopers were smart and capable of dividing their concentration, but a part of you tucked far away from the action was impressed by Wolffe’s abilities. He was dominating your mouth, controlling every motion of the kiss and nipping at your lips and tongue if you tried to take control. At the same time, his thumb strummed your breast in a rhythm found only in his mind while his other hand kept you anchored on his thigh.

Even as you thought it, Wolffe began to tap his foot in time to the beat of his nipple-rubbing and you squeaked as you felt your pelvic muscles begin to clench around nothing. Rather than let you escape, Wolffe deepened the kiss even further as you fell apart on top of him.

When your hands on his shoulders began to push away instead of pull him closer, Wolffe stopped all movement. He disengaged from your mouth, withdrawing his hand from under your shirt while you caught your breath.

A sharp, leering whistle from the first floor made you whirl around in horrified guilt. Had someone seen you? What all had they seen? It wasn’t Gemma, was it?

To your surprise, you weren’t the target at all. Broadside and his Pantoran paramour were the focus of the teasing instead. Apparently, they had been so lost in their embrace that they had tumbled from the booth onto the floor of 79’s.

You wanted to grimace at the thought of rolling around on the dirty floor, but the bigger part of your concentration was taken up by the realization that the couple had been busier than you had expected. The beautiful female’s shirt was unbuttoned, showing off large teal breasts with dusky blue nipples - one of which was distended from where Broadside had clearly been focusing his efforts. Rather than being panicked or embarrassed, she was smiling around the room, clearly drunk and proud of her body. And why wouldn’t she be? She really was lovely.

For his part, Broadside was looking sheepish, but more than a little proud of himself. As he helped his date up off the floor, his eyes traveled across the stacked booths, grinning at someone he knew… Then his gaze hit you.

When exactly you had left Wolffe’s leg to perch at the end of the booth’s seat, you weren’t really sure. You knew you looked as startled as Broadside did, though probably much more disappointed and hurt. It had sucked that he was with someone else tonight, but seeing it? Seeing it personally was so much worse than you had expected.

Warmth behind you was the first reminder that you had your own partner for the evening, followed by the softness of Wolffe’s lips brushing over the flesh of your neck. Then you shivered violently as Wolffe gently rested his teeth on the same spot. He wasn’t biting, not yet, but the threat was there.

You could see the exact moment Broadside noticed the commander. His eyes widened so quickly it was comical, his jaw dropping momentarily before it tightened. When he finally moved, it was to gather his date, help her fix her clothing, and escort her from the club.

Wolffe’s sharp teeth released your neck as the noise level slowly rose back to where it had been before. “It seems like I still have work to do. Unless you’ve had enough?”

You shook your head slowly. “I still remember him. And I really, really want to forget right now.”

“Then let’s find a better place,” Wolffe announced, nudging you out of the booth and patting your bottom as he stood as well. He took off at a steady pace, leading the way down to the main floor.

The couple was still on the stairwell, lost in each other. Wolffe growled at the way the man’s legs were sprawled across two full steps. “Move, Fives.”

The trooper broke away from his partner long enough to rearrange his legs in a more space-friendly way and Wolffe took off once more.

Wolffe didn’t really walk through the crowd - he muscled. Something about his walk screamed ‘move’ - probably would have even if he didn’t have a kama swaying from his hips. You weren’t holding hands or touching in any way, but no one stepped between you. Even in the crushing crowd of the 79’s dance floor, there was a noticeable gap as the commander passed and people waited to see who was following him.

You wanted to be embarrassed by the attention, but a savage part of you reveled in being seen with the handsome commander. People knew who he was, and they knew you were with him. It was a rush, to say the least, and not a little amount of it was because you were doing what Broadside and his companion had been, but much better.

Should you have felt guilty for thinking of Broadside when you were barreling toward a pleasurable encounter with Wolffe? Maybe. But you reasoned that you had been upfront with him. He knew your motivations. Hell, he had even been the one to make the offer in the first place.

“Hey,” a voice hissed at you and you turned to see Ieri and Gemma standing there, smirking at you. Ieri held out a passcard. “Stock closet, second door to the right. You won’t be interrupted there.”

Before you could grab the card, Wolffe plucked it from the Zeltron’s hand. With an incline of his head, he offered silent thanks and steered you toward the door she had mentioned. A beep of the card against the lock and he had stepped into the darkened room, turning to offer a hand to you.

You had never been much for holoimages. You weren’t good at taking them, never found the right way to set up angles, and rarely had time to look over holos from the past. All of that being said, you would have given a lot to have access to a holorecorder right then. The spotlights shining from the club behind you were the only illumination in the room. The beams splashed colors across the gray and white armor encasing Wolffe’s legs, but left his upper half in shadow. His cybernetic eye gleaming in the darkness was your only hint about where his face might be.

It was a scene filled with an incredible sense of potential, and you seized that potential from the moment you reached out to accept Wolffe’s hand.

He spun you into the room, closing the door to the noise and the lights of the club. In the half-quiet darkness, one word hit you with the force of a punch: “Strip.”

You obeyed that order in less time than it took to truly process. Your shirt was gone in a scoop of your arms; your bra took a moment to unclasp, then a shrug sent it skittering down your arm and across the floor. Your skirt dropped to the floor as you kicked your shoes off, then you dropped your underwear, grimacing at the way the wet material clung to you.

The blinding light was so sudden that it was a shock of its own, making you turn even as you raised your hands to cover your nudity.

“Don’t,” Wolffe demanded. “Drop your arms. Let me see you.”

That one took a moment, but you let your arms drop shakily to your sides as Wolffe walked a tight circle around you. A sharp clap! against the bare skin of your ass made you squeak, but Wolffe caught your hand as you reached back to shield yourself.

“That was a warning,” he told you, voice low. “Don’t take too long to obey or I’ll do it again. Argue with me and I’ll make sure you can’t sit comfortably for a week. Understood?”

You nodded, trembling as Wolffe made his way in front of you again. His eyes raked greedily across your vulnerable body and he reached out to run the pad of a finger over one of your tight nipples.

“Just as beautiful as I thought they’d be,” he breathed. “You’re exquisite, mesh’la.”

You didn’t know what the word meant, but you preened anyway.

“You can touch me.”

The second he gave permission, your hands were running across his body. Broadside was strong, but Wolffe was big. The muscles of his chest flowed into his shoulders in an expanse that utterly dwarfed you in comparison. You slid your hands under the top of his blacks, letting your fingers trip up his strong stomach as his abs played under the skin and the protective layer of fat that kept him safe.

But when you started to lift the fabric, Wolffe’s hands locked around your wrists and he shot you a warning look. “I didn’t say you could undress me.”

You dropped your hands immediately, and were rewarded a moment later with his fingers parting your folds. He stroked your entire pussy with one languorous motion - dipping only a fingertip into your entrance before drawing his way out and up, tracing your folds and brushing against your clit before he was done.

“I want to taste you,” he growled, and you could only nod in breathless response.

Wolffe dropping to his armored knees in front of you was the most erotic thing you had ever seen. You fought not to moan as he reached out to grab your hips, steering you exactly where he wanted you.

When you were in the right spot, he steadied you with one hand, drawing one of your legs over his shoulder with the other. He stared at your center from point-blank range, and your brain short-circuited as he slowly licked his lips.

After an eternity like that, balanced on the cusp of pleasure, Wolffe finally leaned in, drawing you forward in the same motion. You had to grab his hair to hold yourself upright as his tongue traced the same path his fingers had taken. He started from just behind your entrance, curling his tongue inside the opening as if to pull every drop of nectar from your depths. He licked his way up to your clit, pursing his lips to suckle it for a heart-stopping moment.

Then he set your leg back on the floor and stood up while you gaped at him. “Wolffe-”

His large palm cracked against your ass again in a slap that felt more bouncy than punishing. “Don’t get greedy, little one.”

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, trying to fight the overwhelming rush of need coursing through you. Wolffe didn’t notice, since he was busy rummaging through a small bag attached to the waist section of his armor.

Just as you were getting ready to throw the whole ‘submissive’ thing out the window, he turned around with a condom in his hand. “Do we need-?”

After a moment to think about it, you shook your head. “I have the implant and I’m clean.”

“I’m clean, too,” he assured, eyes darkening at your choice. You felt the same way. Normally, you insisted on every partner using protection, but… you were feeling a little reckless tonight. Here was hoping you wouldn’t regret it tomorrow.

Wolffe whisked a sheet from a shelf, tucking it over a large pallet of stock that took up the middle of the floor. He pulled you into a kiss, pressing you back against the flat surface until you were reclining against it. He lined himself up at your entrance and paused as he met your eyes.

“What is it?” he asked, seeming thrown off for the first time by the grin on your face.

“Sorry, sorry,” you said quickly. “Keep going, please.”

“No, what?” he repeated with a dangerous edge in his voice.

“Sorry, it’s just-” you let out a breath, trying not to giggle. “With a name like ‘Wolffe’, I thought this would be a more… hands-and-knees kind of thing.”

Wolffe frowned at you, but shrugged as he drew back. “I was going to suck your nipples while we fucked, but… Fine by me. Turn over.”

Now it was your turn to frown. “But… Wait-”

In one smooth motion, Wolffe grabbed your waist and flipped you over. Your hands and knees automatically extended to support yourself and, the moment you were settled into position, Wolffe’s hand cracked over your ass a third time.

It was probably good he couldn’t see your face on that one, because you gaped openly as tears sprang to your eyes. That had been a hard spank, and the immediate rush of pain to your ass cheek warned that it was probably going to bruise.

“We talked about arguing, yes?” Wolffe asked pitilessly.

“Yeah,” you croaked.

“Good,” he said, then plunged himself into you in one deep thrust.

You were back to gaping silently as he bottomed out in you. As your inner muscles worked around his length, gripping him with blind confusion about what had so suddenly intruded into you, your elbows wobbled and gave out. Wolffe’s arm was between your breasts before you could face-plant, and he lowered you down until your chest was flush with the pallet beneath you.

Pushed inside as far as he could be, Wolffe paused, letting you catch your breath as your body adjusted to the stretch. You realized with a start that he had only removed his codpiece and was still wearing his lower armor. The plates felt strange and taboo against the back of your thighs, but you couldn’t deny that the additional coolness felt wonderful against your abused ass.

“Are you ready?” Wolffe asked.

You turned your head to the side so you could breathe while you considered that. Wolffe felt good inside of you, but there was still an unpleasant sting to the stretch that warned you weren’t quite good to go.

“Can- Can you touch my clit please?” you asked, face burning.

A chuckle rumbled through Wolffe. “How could I deny such a polite request?”

A moment later, he parted you and stroked that magical bundle of nerves. The calluses on his fingers made the simple movement something much more profound, and your body rewarded him with another rush of liquid. He didn’t stop then, though, continuing with his ministrations until you were subtly rocking on his length.

“Okay, I’m ready,” you assured him.

“I’m not sure you are,” Wolffe countered, moving to tease the hood of your clit instead.

“Please, Wolffe,” you begged. “Please, please, please…”

“Please what, mesh’la?” he asked, feigning confusion.

“Fuck me!” you demanded.

Wolffe paused for a second - long enough that you braced yourself for another spank - but just brushed the hair from your face as he murmured, “Greedy.”

He pulled his hips back until he was almost out of you. You had a heartbeat to prepare yourself, but it wasn’t enough as he slammed back inside. The sound you made was low, animalistic. Wolffe settled into a rhythm after that, a graceful, slow slide that seemed designed to drive you insane with unsated lust. It was enough to be stimulating, but wasn’t fast enough to push you to an orgasm.

You braced your knees on the pallet and forced yourself back on him, moaning as he stretched you faster and deeper than he had been doing. Wolffe’s measured strokes faltered and he gave a little huff as you smiled to yourself. You had just braced for another backthrust when Wolffe pushed your knees further up.

With the new angle, you had no leverage. Your knees were too close to your chest to give you a good angle to brace yourself. Your chest was planted on the sheet-covered pallet, and your arms were stretched out in front of you to counterbalance his thrusts. You were pinned, forced to lie there and take what he gave you.

However, you couldn’t complain too terribly much, because the new angle of your knees meant that Wolffe was driving into you in a way he hadn’t done yet. It was deep and raw and devastating.

A half-dozen strokes later, Wolffe was struggling to keep his movements measured and even because you were locking down around him. You tried to warn him, tell him that you were done, but you were over the edge before you even saw the cliff.

You didn’t scream. It wasn’t because you remembered you were in a storage closet in a club - you weren’t capable of high-level thinking at the moment - but because you didn’t have the air to make that loud of a sound. Wolffe had driven the air from your lungs, used his body to fill you with so much pleasure that there was no room for trivial things like air.

The orgasm was all-encompassing, leaving you deaf and blind to the world as you gasped and shook, fingers scrabbling at the sheet under you in a failed attempt to ground yourself. The only concrete thing, the only constant, was Wolffe’s length driving into you over and over.

When you were reduced to a pile of whimpering aftershocks, Wolffe came. His armor - now warmed by the heat of your body - pressed against you as he thrust as far inside of you as he could. A single grunt and a long sigh were the only sounds that escaped him as his cock twitched, emptying himself in the tight clutch of your body. Just as his orgasm was beginning to ebb, he pulled your torso up against him, your back to his chest, and sank his teeth into the spot on your neck that he had nibbled earlier. You cried out, but the endorphins flooding your system turned the feeling into pleasure instead of pain.

You only noticed the passage of time when you realized that Wolffe’s grip on your hips was starting to hurt. As if he had noticed at the same moment, Wolffe slowly drew himself out of you. You winced at the feeling, as well as the accompanying feeling of liquid rushing out in the absence of him. Surprisingly, Wolffe pressed what felt like a piece of fabric against your entrance, catching the first messy rush.

“Easy, little one,” he soothed, and you noticed that your limbs were trembling. "Slowly."

You did as he suggested, moving slowly as you turned over and stood on wobbling knees. Wolffe retrieved your clothing one article at a time, handing each to you in turn even as he held you steady.

When you were fully dressed and he had snapped his codpiece back into place, you glanced around for the scrap of cloth he had used to keep from dirtying the sheet.

"What did you use for…" you made a vague gesture at your pelvis, "you know. Everything."

Wolffe still looked confused for a moment, but eventually pulled back his kama to show a very interesting stain on the inside.

You gaped. "Aren't you going to get in trouble for that?"

"I'll clean it," Wolffe said, voice dry. You nodded, embarrassed. Still, when you moved to step away, he followed. "But I'll always have the memory of tonight. Thanks for that."

"Thank you," you countered. "It was… it was exactly what I needed."

Wolffe bent down slightly, brushing your lips with his own a final time. "If you're ever in need of distraction and I'm in town, just comm me."

He was marching to the door before you relearned how to speak. "I don't have your frequency."

"Ieri has it," Wolffe tossed back, glancing over his shoulder for one last, lingering look before he left the room.

You followed a minute or so later, turning off the lights and wincing at the smell of sex hanging thick in the room.

When you got back to the table where you had been sitting with Gemma a lifetime ago, she was nursing a bottle of beer. When she saw you, she straightened, eyes brightening.

"Where's Ieri?" you asked, frowning as you slid into your chair.

"Finishing her shift, then we're headed back to my place." Gemma waved off her own explanation a moment later. "But that's a conversation for tomorrow. Tell me all about tonight!"

The wicked look she sent your way should have made you blush, but you were too sated at the moment. Instead you just smiled, slow and secretive. "Well, he's definitely a commander."

"And a Wolffe, judging from that bite on your neck!" she joked, openly laughing.

Your hand flew to cover the mark, wincing as your fingertips brushed raw skin, then again when your shifting balance ground your weight against your bruised ass.

"He definitely left his mark," you admitted, but smiled absently as Gemma returned her attention to the dance floor.

Worth it.

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A/N - Dominant Wolffe is a characterization I just can't give up. The man screams that he's in charge.

Thanks for reading! (And happy Valentine's day!)