Another seedy dive bar full of criminals and thieves, another slum ridden rock floating aimlessly through the dark of space. It all began to get almost boring to her at this point. A string of easy to nab collars and a quick buck earned for her troubles. There was no excitement in her catches anymore. Although it wasn't as if she had much of a choice if she wanted to get paid. Nobody likes their job, anyways. Especially when it's the only thing they can do to put food on the table. Your only option is rarely appealing. Her current tail wasn't much different from the others. Some young punk wanted across the galaxy for a few petty crimes, but enough to be worth a good chunk of credits and get her through the next few months.
Maybe I'll be able to take a vacation, finally. The thought floated through her mind, nearly drowned out by the shitty excuse for music screeching through the air of the bar. Maybe I'll go home for a little while. That last part was just some sad joke she told herself, except the punchline stung. There was no going home. This was her life now. She took a hard swig of the disgusting brown liquid she convinced herself was not entirely unlike whiskey, emptying the glass and sliding it back to the hideous creature behind the bar. This time she called for something bright, fruity, and lacking in anything that would get her more than buzzed. She would likely need her wits about her for this one. He had a reputation.
It was only a few sips of her froofy drink before he sidled up to her at the bar. Like a moth to a flame. She thought, grinning outwardly to him with feigned innocence and a cloyingly sweet little "Hello". The hard part wasn't finding him hopping from city to city looking for something valuable to pocket. Nah, the hard part was shoving herself into this absolutely ridiculous brightly colored spandex outfit and dolling her hair up with gems and curls. It honestly took more time to get dressed than it did to track down where he had docked his ship.
A few sweet greetings, some bubbly and nearly brainless flirtation and she all but had him eating out of the palm of her hand. She thought offhandedly that he was more handsome in person than in his mug shots, but she dismissed that thought quickly and chalked it up to the crappy lighting in the bar. Crappy bar lighting was designed to make anyone look good. It wasn't long before his hand was on her thigh and his cheeks flushed with a tinge of pink from the drinks he was throwing back. This is almost too easy. I feel like I should be worried. She thought, taking a conservative sip from the rim of her froo-froo beverage. Nevertheless she took the chance when he leaned in, planting a sloppy drunken kiss on her brightly painted lips. The countdown began. Her kiss was almost as intoxicating as the drinks he'd put down. Likely due to the fact that she laced her lipstick before putting it on, a neat little trick she picked up from one of her former partners. In fact all of the glaring lights in the bar started to melt together and her face was haloed in a soft glow. Finally. Let's go, pretty boy. It was like taking candy from a baby. A big, drunk baby in a tacky red trench coat. She grabbed his hand and led him out of the bar and down the dark street.
~~~
By the time he started to snap out of his stupor he was locked in a cell barely big enough to fit two people standing. The bench he sat on was built into the wall of the ship and as cold as ice. When the world started to come back into focus it almost seemed like he was in the galley of a ship. How the hell you could go from a dive bar to a ship's galley with no recollection of the journey was beyond him in his haze. Things started to come into full focus as the sounds and smells of someone cooking filled the air. Something warm and... cinnamony? It had been far too long since he had tasted or smelled cinnamon. He must be imagining things.
She slammed the door to the tiny refrigerator shut with her hips. Hips finally freed from the confines of those obnoxious spandex pants and swaying to the beat of music that he couldn't hear. That tacky red coat, his gun, his bag, and anything else he could possibly need to get out of that cage was tossed unceremoniously on the small table at the other end of the little galley in a pile. It was almost like a whole different person than the girl he schmoozed at the bar was standing at the stove, stirring something in a pot while she danced and hummed. Her spandex and gems were traded in for a pair of shorts, a loosely fitted tank top, and a plaid flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up enough to see arms covered in collages of ink. Messy waves of black hair fell from a lazily tied up bun that threatened to shake loose with every shake of her hips. As she cooked, she started to sing, words to a song that he knew she shouldn't know.
"Oh, baby give me one more chance.." She sang, not entirely out of tune as she spooned out a generous helping of what looked like oatmeal into a mug. To the beat of the music playing through the headphones she wore, she sauntered over to the cage and slid the mug through a small hole between the cage and the floor. Sliding the headphones down to her neck she leaned against the counter, staring at him while she thought of which question she'd like answered first.
"Good, you're up. Where the hell did you get this?" She asked him, motioning to the walkman in the front pocket of her flannel shirt.
This is a repost. I never got to see this scenario panned out and I still would really love to.
Hello again, lovelies. If you made it to the end of that long winded intro then I commend you! Once again I've got a hankering for some deep space dicking and today I wandered into the Guardians of the Galaxy universe. This takes place in the storyline of the movie rather than the comic books. I know, I'm sorry to disappoint you comic purists, but I just have such a raging ladyboner for Chris Pratt that I can't help it. Tonight I want you to play my Star-Lord. Captured by a wiley little Earth girl turned outer space bounty hunter. I am looking for a more long-term thing with this one and I'd love if we can take our time and enjoy the build up. Our responses don't have to be quite as long as this intro, but I don't really dig two sentence replies. You don't have to respond with an immediate reply, in fact I prefer to hash out details and tweak little details before we dive in. I prefer to write in third person(obviously) and even though I did so in the intro, I prefer if you don't write for my character and I won't write for yours. My only hard limits are bathroom stuff, incest, and blood/violence. My kinks are a long list but it's mostly revolving around bondage and rough stuff. I love power plays. I love submission. All of that good stuff. If you're curious about my kinks and want another taste of my writing style you can check my previous submissions. I've got a whole bunch. I hope to hear from you!
Submitted April 17, 2016 at 10:20PM by vidaquatica http://ift.tt/268YJsw dirtypenpals
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