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complete-in-ix · 1 year

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Mirage of a Desert Rose (Untouchable, but Smells So Sweet

Rated: M Warning(s): Suggestive

Description: Lee Eunsang has never had the best luck with love. His heart ached all through Produce X 101, and now a certain Myung Eunho is leading him through a desert of confusion and longing only to vanish as soon as Eunsang wants to talk about his feelings. That is, until the night Eunho decides to approach him first…

(Read on Ao3)

Eunsang leans against the kitchen counter, softly sipping at his tea. The dorm is quiet, the other members deciding to stay at their own dorns tonight and Sion having gone to bed nearly an hour ago. Eunsang is content to bask in the silence—a welcome change from the bustle and noise of the day. As much as he loves being an idol, the job still tires him out even on his best days sometimes. Then again, hearing Youniz’s cheers and seeing how his members light up upon hearing them… Just the memory of their smiles is enough to make him almost completely forget his exhaustion. One smile in particular stands out in his memory, for no particular reason other than his fondness towards the person it belongs to.

He hasn’t had much time to talk to Eunho about their relationship. They—and the rest of the group, really—both know that what they have crosses well over the line of mere co-leaders and close friends. Eunsang tries to tell himself that he doesn’t mind the ambiguity and would prefer things to just progress naturally without any big announcements, but he knows in his heart that it isn’t true. Perhaps Eunho would, but if the way his eyes drop to Eunsang’s lips when he thinks he won’t notice and the way his hands always linger whenever they make any sort of contact, that’s doubtful. Those actions themselves don’t offer much in terms of clarity, but surely if Eunho wanted to let their relationship go wherever they take it, he would have made a move and taken it somewhere by now, right?

Eunsang sighs into his now-empty cup. He shouldn’t try to get his hopes too high again. His luck with love has never been the best, with him losing to someone else not once, but twice; once during Produce X 101, and another in the short-lived flight that was X1. He’s mostly over them both by now, but some memories still make his heart ache.

His phone lights up with a text right as he’s putting his cup away in the sink. Upon checking who it is, all his previous melancholy melts away.

Little Demon hyung Are you still awake? I have something for you

Eunsang’s heart stutters once the last sentence processes in his mind. What could that mean, exactly? He had just been telling himself not to hope for too much, yet he still finds those familiar wings starting to flutter in his chest again. He types out a reply and sends it before he can start to overthink.

Eunsang Yes, I’m still up! What is it?

Before his message has even been read, Eunsang is already rushing to his room to get changed into something a little more presentable. He and Eunho have already caught little glimpses of each other in their less-than-flattering moments without any issue, but there’s something different about tonight that makes him really want to make an impression. He’s gone through two different pairs of pants, three different jackets, and is in the middle of deciding whether or not to put on his favourite rose perfume when Eunho’s reply comes in.

Little Demon hyung It’s a surprise. Meet me behind the dorms ;)

Eunsang has to bite his lip to contain his excitement. Eunho has always been the more direct one between them, but this is on a whole other level! It’s settled, he has to put the perfume on now.

After five minutes of checking and rechecking himself in the mirror and sneaking down the long way to make sure he isn’t seen, Eunsang opens the back door of the dorm building to see Eunho leaning against the wall. It seems like he and Eunsang had the same idea to get dolled up a little. From here, Eunsang can see a silver chain in Eunho’s hair glinting in the light of the streetlamp shining down into the alley. He remembers telling Eunho that he liked it while on set for Bad Cupid, and then being confused at the scheming smile Eunho had given him in return. Now he understands. Little devil. Then again, Eunsang isn't innocent of stealing from sets either. This jacket is from his Kcon Mirage stage.

"Good evening, handsome. Come here often?" Eunho asks upon catching his eye.

"It's almost one in the morning," Eunsang replies, determined not to let his racing heart show. Eunho is always this flirty behind closed doors, especially towards Eunsang. Still, he can't help but be wary. Does he really mean it or is this just his way of bonding as a group? He pushes those thoughts away for later. "What do you have for me?"

"Still a surprise." Eunsang has gotten close enough that Eunho has to look up at him now, that ever-so-charming smile never wavering even as Eunsang's shadow falls over him. He flicks a hand up between them before their proximity can get suffocating, something jangling around his fingers. Keys.

"You stole the manager's van? Where are we going, should I be worried for myself?" Despite his words, Eunsang isn’t worried at all. Eunho has always been safe for him.

“I got my brother to leave his car here for us, we won’t go anywhere sketchy with it.” Eunho pulls Eunsang down by the back of the neck, close enough that he can feel Eunho’s lips brushing against his ear. “The managers don’t know anything~”

Eunho steps away before Eunsang's nerves can crash on him, keys jangling at his side. They had been so close… Dazed, he can only follow Eunho to the car, silently agonizing over what might have happened if he had turned his head just so… God, he wants to kiss Eunho so badly. Would he give in under his lips, soft and pliant? Would he take charge, rough and demanding? He nearly hits his head on the roof of the car getting in—would have if it weren’t for Eunho’s hand cushioning the blow.

“Careful, Sangie. I wouldn't want you to get hurt on our first date."

First date?!

Eunho closes the door behind him right as his words process in Eunsang's head. He only has seconds before Eunho gets to the other side of the car and gets in, what should he say to him when he does?!

By the time Eunho has gotten in and started the car, Eunsang has exactly nothing. What can he say, when the one he’s been pining over since their debut together has pretty much confirmed that he returns his affection? Still, he doesn’t want to get his hopes up…

“I can hear you thinking from here. What’s on your mind?”

Eunho’s voice calls him back out of his head. They’re on the road now (was Eunsang really zoned out for that long!?), soft yellow streetlights passing by in pleasant smudges of colour. It’s hard to get a proper look at Eunho’s face as he drives them through the city, light and shadow forming an effective mask for him. Would now be a good time to tell him? Eunho’s tone had been light, but the atmosphere in the car is strangely heavy this time, confusion and something else hanging above their heads, just out of sight. Eunsang decides to skirt around it for now.

“Lots of things. Nothing important enough to really talk about though.” A half-lie. His feelings for Eunho threaten to tear themselves through his chest and out his throat, kept down only by his confusion and past experience.

“Are you sure? You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” There’s that tone again, that sweet and soft tone that Eunsang has only ever heard directed towards him. He resolutely stares out the window. They both know that if Eunsang looks at him now, he’ll break.

“I’m sure. Besides, you seem to have more on your mind than me if you’re sneaking me out of the dorms this late at night.” Eunsang dares to glance at Eunho’s reflection in the window and catches only the furrow of his brow before his gaze is back on the road. Had he been frustrated? Worried, perhaps? Eunsang forces himself not to think about it too much. His mind instead wanders to the words they had exchanged before taking off. Eunho has something for him, something that they have to leave the dorms for. Something not even the managers can know about, because it’s a surprise for their first date. Eunho could have been joking, of course, but if he hadn’t been…

It’s not much of a secret among the group that they both like men. Eunsang doesn’t remember who brought it up or why, but everyone had already clocked him by the time the company had put him with them. He wasn’t exactly as subtle as he thought he was on Produce X 101, after all. Everyone had been okay with it, thankfully. He remembers Eunho’s gaze lingering on him while the other asked him questions, and Eunho talking to him in private once that conversation had moved on. He remembers asking Eunho which way he swings, just because it felt natural to ask. Eunho’s response had been just as forward as he always is.

“Haven’t had much time to really explore. Not just girls though, I know that much.”

While that had comforted Eunsang greatly, that still raised more questions. Would he ever have a chance? Considering his track record with love, surely not…

“You’re right.” Eunho speaks again, sudden but slowly. “There’s something I want to tell you that only you can know. Nowhere in the dorms seemed like the right place, so.” Eunho shrugs. “I found a spot.”

Eunsang startles slightly when Eunho pulls the car over. He hadn’t even noticed that they had left the city, now stopping at a viewpoint on the side of a hill far above it. The lights below form urban constellations, their glow shining up to illuminate the clouds above. For just a moment, Eunsang’s worries are taken away by the view.

Rain starts tapping insistently on the roof and windows as soon as Eunho parks the car. Unfazed, Eunho just turns on the radio to drown it out. He plugs the aux into his phone, and Eunsang would recognize the sound of glass clinking to cue in those synths anywhere.

"Mirage? You like my songs that much?" He can’t help the teasing smile that spreads across his face as his debut b-side starts playing, smooth and sensual. “Is this your way of telling me you’re my fan?” Eunsang’s voice is light, as is his expression when he turns to look Eunho in the eye. Much to his surprise, none of that teasing is reflected in the older man’s eyes, only an almost solemn stare. Fear shines in those pretty eyes, contrasting greatly to the set of his jaw. “... Hyung?”

Eunho heaves a short sigh, resigning himself to whatever he’s about to say. A dark part of Eunsang’s mind is reminded of a scene in a book he had read as a child, one where the main character had confessed a secret that sentenced them to death. The name of the book has long since left his memory, but those few pages had stuck. Something in the way Eunho resolutely keeps their eyes locked together and reaches for his hand makes him feel as if he’s reliving that scene—this time as the executioner.

“It’s more than just me being your fan, Eunsang. I think you know by now that I’ve fallen for you, right?”

The confession doesn’t crash over Eunsang in a great wave, instead hitting him gradually, drop by drop like the rain on the car roof.

“I didn’t.” Eunsang takes Eunho’s hand, a little too tightly like he’ll disappear if Eunsang lets go. “All this time, I thought I was the only one who wanted more…” The weight of his own emotions prove too much for the clouds of his confusion, and they come in a torrential downpour as the words leave his mouth. His parched heart almost wants to reject him, not yet acclimated to the flood of reciprocated feelings. “Please don’t play with me, I can’t take it if you do,” he says instead. He hates how much his voice shakes on those words, how delicate he still is after he thought he had fully recovered.

“I promise you, I’m not.” Eunho reaches up with his free hand to wipe Eunsang’s tears away, tears Eunsang hadn’t even noticed had spilled from his eyes. “Let hyung prove it to you, yeah? Don’t cry, come here.” Weak to Eunho’s warmth, Eunsang melts into his touch. They’re so close now, both leaning over the gearshift just inches apart.

“Can I kiss you?” Eunho asks, at the same time Eunsang whispers: “Please kiss me.”

Eunho meets him first, pulling Eunsang in until they meet. He’s heartbreakingly tender, kissing Eunsang as if he’ll break. Eunsang is the opposite, the rush of his feelings flooding out of him and onto Eunho’s lips. He takes it in stride, tangling his free hand in Eunsang’s hair to pull him closer. Up until a few minutes ago, this had been something Eunsang thought would be forever out of his reach, but now that he has it, has Eunho, all he wants is more, more, more.

All too soon, Eunsang has to pull away for air. How cruel of the universe, to give him the need to love this deeply yet deny his body the ability to do so properly. He wants to entwine their very souls, to be embraced by Eunho so tightly that he can no longer tell where he ends and Eunho begins, oh he wants. His whimper when Eunho pulls away is utterly broken, something that Eunho rushes to soothe with another kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m not going far,” Eunho assures him. “Move your seat back a little, I’m coming over to that side.” Eunsang obeys almost numbly, only half aware of what he’s doing. His craving for Eunho’s touch encompasses his entire being, and he feels himself starting to shake apart while Eunho crawls over the gearshift to settle onto his lap.

“Hyung, can I… Touch you?” Eunsang asks, perfectly in time with his own voice playing from the radio. (“Looks like I can almost grab it”) His hands hover over Eunho’s body, so desperately craving the warmth that’s so close to him. Eunho huffs out a fond sigh, guiding Eunsang’s hands around his shoulders.

“Why do you think I came over to this side, silly?” Eunho murmurs in the minute space between them. “We’ve held back for long enough. This is real, Sangie.” He cups Eunsang’s face—not to pull him in, just to ground him—and waits for him to make the first move this time.

Eunsang closes the distance between them without a second thought, determined to kiss all his love into Eunho until it’s imbedded in his skin. Eunho matches his fervor easily, slotting against him like he was meant to be there.

It gets far too hot far too quickly for Eunsang’s liking, the thrum of his desire fogging up the windows and suffocating him until he has to shrug off his jacket. Eunho unbuttons the top half of his shirt to match him before diving right back in, drawing a moan from Eunsang that matches his voice playing from the speakers. He had always known he can sound sexy, but with the way Eunho’s body shivers with every little whine that leaves his lips, he truly understands.

“Fuck, Eunsang, I almost want to bite you,” Eunho groans against his neck. Eunsang nearly mewls at the confession.

“What’s stopping you?”

“Schedules.”

Ah, right. That pesky little thing called a career that looms over them both, that inevitably will call them back home to more endless practices and shows that cut into the time they can spend truly together… Eunsang has half a mind to tell Eunho to just do it anyway, schedules be damned. Thankfully, he still has enough of a head to resist.

“I know a better mark for us,” Eunsang whispers, kiss-swollen lips barely brushing against Eunho’s ear. “Since it’s so hot, my perfume has probably gotten on you. You’re going to smell like me until tomorrow night~” Eunho’s next breath is shaky against Eunsang’s neck, and his pupils are blown wide when he pulls back to kiss Eunsang again.

“I like that. You’re making me yours,” he murmurs between kisses. Eunsang can’t help but smile against his lips, eagerly drinking in his desire.

“And the others won’t know a thing,” Eunsang adds. He knows exactly how much to put on so that only those who get very close to him will smell it. For this, for him to be the only one to know that Eunho carries his scent… His head starts to spin, his blood rushing down to somewhere else at the thought. Something dangerous rears its head deep inside Eunsang, a deep-seated hunger starting to take root within his body. It would be too much for tonight, no matter how much he wants, so they should probably—

“Fuck, you’re going to kill me,” Eunho moans against his lips. Much to Eunsang’s simultaneous dismay and relief, he pushes himself away, keeping his hand on Eunsang’s chest to reinforce their distance. “I almost forgot this is my brother’s car, what have you done to me?”

Right, that too.

“We can do more back home, let’s hurry,” Eunsang whines, pouting up at Eunho. He looks so good looming over him like this, a great contrast to their usual dynamic. Eunsang craves him.

“We should be resting at home,” Eunho chides. “Tomorrow is going to be busy.” He glances behind himself at the car's dashboard for the time, Eunsang following his gaze. 3:25 AM. Eunho's birthday, Eunsang's lovesick mind supplies.

“I don’t care about tomorrow, I want you now.” Eunsang punctuates his words by running his hand up Eunho’s shirt. Deep down, he knows Eunho is right. He had already been tired when Eunho first messaged him, and now that the heat of his kisses is dissipating, exhaustion has come creeping in to replace his desire.

“You have me now,” Eunho assures. “Now and forever.” Forever… That sounds nice. Eunsang gives in, letting Eunho go with one last deep kiss.

The drive back home is a bit of a blur, the only clear memories being Eunho’s hand on his thigh and his own singing lulling him to sleep.

When he wakes the next morning, there are three texts from Eunho waiting for him.

Little Demon hyung Last night was way hotter than I thought Hyunseung thinks I borrowed your perfume, the scent is so strong Little does he know ;)

Eunsang can’t help the smile that spreads across his face. Perhaps they’ll tell the members eventually, but for now… This love will be their sweet little secret.

#mirage of a desert rose (untouchable but smells so sweet)#younite #2eun #canon compliant #annual #wrote this for a friend who doesn't have ao3 or tumblr #sent it to her on the first night of hanukkah (she's jewish)#and was like 'idk if this is an appropriate gift but here you go' 😭#she loved it tho so that's good!

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tackytigerfic · 2 years

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Six Sentence Sunday

Harry has been fighting the war against Voldemort for seven years. Here, he gets a little downtime with his favourite godchild. Unbetaed.

Rosie was singing, a tuneless joyful sound, hands sticky around her half-eaten apple, cheeks still hot from her nap.

“Come on, darling,” Harry said. “Give me those toes.”

Rosie lay back and kicked her legs into the air, her fat bare feet scrabbling against Harry’s hands. She laughed unrepentantly then let Harry cup both her heels in one hand while he reached for her discarded socks with the other. Her skin felt so smooth, so warm and silky, with a strangely animal, muscular heft to the flexing plump feet.

“That child can’t keep her socks on to save her life,” Molly said from the kitchenette. “I’ll have to spell them stuck if she keeps this up.”

Harry frowned down at Rosie’s little face, then stuck his bottom lip out and drew his eyebrows cartoonishly low, just to hear her make that delicate little wheeze of in-breath that always came before a laugh.

“I don’t think she’d like that,” he called back to Molly, then lowered his voice just for Rosie. “Would you, sweetheart? You wouldn’t like to have your socks spelled on, would you Rosie-Posie? Because if you did—” He paused theatrically, and Rosie, ever-indulgent and with the patient expectancy that came with familiarity, wriggled with anticipatory glee “—then how could I… eat your toes?”

There was a lot of screaming and kicking and tickling and rather a din of monster noises, and Harry definitely got a foot in the face more than once as he pretended to gobble up Rosie’s toes while simultaneously wrestling her socks back on, but by the time things subsided she clambered up, both feet festooned in purple stripes, and settled herself in Harry’s lap contentedly to finish her apple.

Harry kissed her curls, and they sat quietly, Rosie crunching. She was a very restful person to be around, Harry always thought. Her needs seemed very simple, her pleasure at having them met a pure and joyful thing. Harry didn’t remember being that small, but it seemed fairly clear that the Dursleys would have had to really go out of their way to make him miserable. It was so easy to please a two-year-old; more than anything else, the idea that the Dursleys could not be kind to someone so full of potential and so very small—the thought of them treating Rose the way they had Harry—made him realise how truly awful they were.

“She has you wrapped around her little finger,” Molly sighed, and set a cup of tea on the table next to Harry, tucked far enough in that Rose couldn’t reach it. Molly sat down in the armchair with her own cup.

“I don’t mind,” Harry said into Rosie’s hair, which always smelled the same—a hint of a sweet artificial fruity scent, undercut with something earthy and warmly fragrant, like a puppy’s stomach or the earth under damp leaves. “I like it when she’s happy.”

Tagging anyone who wants to join in! Please tag me, I am weeks behind on Tumblr but I love reading them and will love reading them again to reblog when I finally catch up!

#This fic is at around 85k now and still far from finished #. Thoughts and prayers for tacky as they try to finish up #the self-doubt is really kicking in right now.#six sentence someday #wip snip #i queue #drarry #drarry squad

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keichan · 3 years

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Firsts with Sakusa Kiyoomi

A collections of firsts with Sakusa Kiyoomi

A/N:

I’ve had the idea of this story in my drafts forever now, but I sat down yesterday and finally brought it to life! I have never wrote for Sakusa before, but I hope that you guys enjoy my personification of him!

word count: 7.2k!

warnings: vomiting, nsfw content that will be italicized, swearing?

Please interact with this story! I’m restarting my blog back up and I lost a lot of moots! Send me asks and whatnot!

The first time you saw Sakusa Kiyoomi was when he silently strolled down the hallway in elementary school. He had a blank stare at all times. Never strayed too close to any of the other children. A gloomy looking child that you did not particularly want to approach. His hands remained glued to his side and looked to be sulking. He blended into the crowd but if you paid enough attention, he barely stood out. He crossed your mind for the slightest second before you were sucked back into conversation with your friends.

The first time you heard his voice was when he was talking to another boy in your grade level. Who you found out was his cousin. Their interaction was quiet and somewhat dull. His cousin, Motoya, asked if he wanted to go to an after school activity with him. Sakusa nodded briefly and said “sure”. His voice was quiet and bored. You wondered as you walked past the boys what they were talking about, however, you were quickly distracted yet again and proceeded to move forward without a second thought.

The first interaction between the two of you was your third year of middle school. Sakusa Kiyoomi was nothing but a background character in your life. You ever so often saw him since the two of you were in different classes. However, you shared a class with Motoya so it wasn’t too rare to see the boy.

You walked out of class upon dismissal, but hung around campus with your friends, knowing that your parents were at work and it was redundant to return so early. It was an unanimous decision to go to the convenience store outside of campus to grab a quick bite with the chore money that took a few weeks to rack up.

Walking outside of the gym a volleyball rolled to your feet. You picked it up before looking to your right to see who it belonged to. Sakusa Kiyoomi walked calmly over to you with his hands at his side. There was no one else in the gym. He was playing by himself.

He came to a halt, looking at you expectedly. You fidgeted the ball in your palms before asking. “Are you practicing all alone?” He nodded curtly with a deadpan expression that said give me the ball.

“I see.” You tossed him the ball gently before following your friends that have already walked ahead.

At the convenience store you grabbed things you thought Sakusa may have liked.

“Why are you grabbing so much? Also, I thought you didn’t like daifuku.” Aya commented as she browsed the shelf next to you. Your nose scrunched up. “I’m just craving it.” You shrugged her off. She didn’t reply as she grabbed a carton of apple juice.

All of you checked out and parted ways in front of the store. It wasn’t long before you peeked your head into the gym to see Sakusa slamming the ball against the wall continuously. He was roughly the same height as you, but each time he struck the ball, there was an undeniable force behind it.

You took your shoes off, outside of the gym before clearing your throat nervously.

The boy caught the ball as it ricocheted off the wall. His black curls stuck messily to his forehead and he turned to you with a confused expression. Holding up the plastic bag with one hand, you offered him a small smile.

“Looked like you were working hard, so I brought this for you.”

He blinked at you. Not a word.

“I can just leave it somewhere if you’d like. I just have to-”

“I was actually getting kind of hungry.” He said quietly. He walked to the edge of the gym and sat down. You followed his lead quietly. Upon sitting down, you opened the bag, preparing to dump everything on the floor before he raised a hand to stop you.

“The floor is rather dirty, I would prefer you not to do that.” He said plainly “Please.” he added. You nodded and opened the bag towards him so he could get his pick. Luckily for you he went straight for the daifuku. He meticulously unwrapped it and began to munch silently. You followed suit and you began to eat a custard-filled bread roll.

“Sakusa, right?” You turned your head to the boy. “Kyosuke?” You faltered.

He shook his head. “Kiyoomi. And you?”

“L/N F/N.” You answered. He dipped his head in acknowledgement.

“What high school are you going to try to go to?”

“Itachiyama.”

“Really? I want to go there as well. Maybe we can study together for the entrance exams together.”

“I’m going to get in on a sports recommendation since I’m on the volleyball team here.” He said nonchalantly as he flattened the snack’s wrapper on his thigh. You nodded. His curtness didn’t particularly bother you.

“Fair enough.” You brushed off your skirt and began to make an exit towards the gym. You began to slip your shoes on outside of the door before waving over to him. “Let me know if you change your mind about studying. I’m in the same class as your cousin. Keep the rest of the snacks. Work hard.”

Roughly two weeks later Sakusa Kiyoomi was waiting outside of class 3-B. Ignoring Motoya he approached you. “Let’s study for entrance exams.” Motoya looked at you oddly and tailed the two of you as Sakusa lead you to the library in silence.

You sat in front of the curly haired boy, pulling out your journals and folders excitedly sliding them towards Sakusa. Motoya sat beside him, earning a subtle glare from Kiyoomi.

“I looked at everything they’ve made available for students who are applying, organized it, and color coded it. I have a plan to get in.

Sakusa carefully eyed over your notes as he skimmed the pages. Your handwriting was incredibly neat. Everything was so organized that even an idiot could get into Itachiyama. Not that he was thinking that you were stupid by any means.

That was the first time you saw Sakusa smile because of you.

It was now your first year at Itachiyama Academy. You walked through the gates of the school sandwiched between Sakusa and Motoya. Somehow the three of you managed to be in the same class.

As the semester progressed, you began to settle in a routine with the boys. You would sit at practices, reading books. After they finished, you would all study at someone’s house and part ways.

It was dipping into the summer. Tokyo subtly rose in temperature as the rainy season commenced.

Sakusa stood outside of your home with an umbrella since he was fully aware that you refused to bring one to school any time that it rained. He looked down to his cellphone. You were always punctual so it didn’t make sense to him that you weren’t outside yet. He knocked on the front door to your family home. No answer.

He used the spare key under the plant to go inside. He propped the umbrella against the door and took his shoes off before making his way upstairs. You weren’t in your bed but he could hear someone gagging in the bathroom.

His face contorted into disgust at the thought, but proceeded towards the room. He opened the bathroom door to see you hunched over the toilet. Your hair pooled over your shoulders going forward as you choked on your own vomit. Sobs quietly echoed the room.

He cautiously moved forward and gathered your hair in his hand. He turned his head away from your body to cover his distaste for the situation that he found himself in. You jumped startled in place before you started vomiting again.

“Sorry, I didn’t text you. I’ve been here for hours.” Your voice was incredibly weak.

“I wish you took care of yourself. Then things like this wouldn’t happen. Where are your parents?”

“I don’t know.” Your voice croaked. Sakusa flinched at that. He knew the feeling all too well.

“You know if you used an umbrella in the rain you wouldn’t get sick. Plus you’ve been pulling all nighters with school for no reason. Stop overexerting yourself.”

“Shut up.” You groaned. “Go to school. I’ll take care of myself.”

He rolled his eyes. He grabbed a hair tie from under your sink and tied your hair back to the best of his ability before leaving the room. Going downstairs he began to make hot green tea with honey, a glass of water, and cut up an apple, your favorite fruit, and grabbed a mask out of his backpack and put it on before returning to the bathroom. You were leaning against the wall, your features were flushed as beads of sweat developed along your forehead.

Sakusa sighed as he squatted in front of you.

“Drink this. Rehydrate. Put some food in your stomach.”

“Go to school Sakusa.” You muttered as you placed the cup to your lips gently.

Sakusa began washing his hands into the sink, ignoring you.

“You ought to go lie down so your body can repair itself.” He turned around before gathering the cups and the bowl of fruit from you. He placed it on your bedside table before he felt a weight collide with his back. He turned suddenly to catch your body.

“Sorry, I must be really weak right now.” A laugh barely escaped your lips. You were face to face with him as he supported you up. All he did was nod before he gently lowered you onto the bed, placing you under the sheets.

He walked over to the bathroom and found a small towel. A sigh of exasperation escaped his lips. He already had known that you were overdoing it academically, but now it finally showed physically. He didn’t understand you sometimes.

He returned to your room once more to see that you were out cold. He used the cloth to gently dab the sweat off of your face before folding it inside out and resting it on your forehead entirely. Sakusa supposed that it would be alright to skip school that day to help his friend out.

“Thanks, Kiyoomi.” The words poured quietly from your lips. His head jerked up suddenly

That was the first time you didn’t call him by his surname.

“Okay hear me out. Yes, you’re insanely talented at volleyball. No, I am not telling you how to play, BUT I think that if you approach the AB attack that you guys have been working on this way, I think that you can achieve it somewhat better.” You shoved your diagram that you drew out to Kiyoomi. His eyes scanned over everything. You flipped the page in front of him.

“This is the way that you’ve been doing it, but I think that with your spiking range, you wouldn’t have to exert yourself and overextend yourself from this side of the court.”

Sakusa laughed pulling your notebook closer to himself.

“This is actually genius. How did you know I couldn’t get it?”

“You’ve been spending more time practicing solo than normal so I just paid a little more attention when I’ve been able to come in and watch.”

“I really appreciate this! Do you mind?” You shook your head. “It’s all yours. I have some other ideas in there as well since nationals are coming up.”

He giddily slid it into his backpack before checking his phone.

“Shit. I didn’t realize how late it was. The subways are probably packed by now.” He groaned.

You slung your bag over your shoulder. The crowds outside were moving meticulously outside. A sigh escaped your lips. You turned to Sakusa as he hooked a mask over each ear with a gloomy expression.

The two of you walked out of the cafe and headed towards the JR line. The crowd was astonishingly hard to walk through. Well, it was easy for Saksua since he could see over the sea of people. You reached out for his sleeve and managed to grab his hand. He looked back and gave you a weary acknowledgement and continued to tread forward. You barely managed to get into the train car with him. Your fingers tangled with his as you were shoved into his side. You looked up to see his eyebrows furrowed and expression darkened.. This definitely isn’t the first time that Saksusa had been unfortunate enough to get on the trains with rush hour.

“You good, Kiyoomi?” You tugged on his arm gently as you whispered. He nodded looking down at you. A man beside you accidentally shoved you forward. Sakusa quickly laced his fingers in yours before he anchored you back to his side. You squeeze his hand gently as a quiet thanks.

In roughly ten minutes the doors opened to your stop. Sakusa led the way, weaseling the two of you outside of the train station. He let out a sigh of relief as he climbed the stairs onto the open street.

“Much better.” he mumbled. You absentmindedly followed him to his house as he continued to hold your hand.

“Kiyoomi, you know you can go ahead and let go now.” He froze in his tracks and looked down to your hands and returned his gaze to your face.

“Apologies.” He said before he let go. His hand returned to his side.

“I think I’m going to call it a night here. I’m going to Motoya’s to study the notes. I’ll text you if I have any questions.” He raised a hand to bid farewell and walked to the direction of his home.

Your eyes traveled down to the palm of your hand. You studied it. Each finger as you rotated it. With a subtle shrug, you turned to the opposite direction and made your way home.

That was the first time you held hands with Sakusa Kiyoomi.

“What do you mean I can’t braid your hair for a game? It’s getting longer and it would look adorable. Right, Motoya?” You twirled one of Sakusa’s curls gently in your finger. Motoya glanced up from his phone laughing.

“I don’t see why not.”

“ Don’t support her. You’re going to make her think that she’s unstoppable.” Sakusa groaned and thudded his head against the table.

“Can I do it for fun though?” You whined as your ran your hands through his hair.

He sunk in his chair in defeat. “Fine.”

You excitedly stood up and got to work.

After a few minutes you were finished. His hair was barely short enough for it to stick into a little poof in the back. You quickly took out your phone and snapped a quick selfie with your back camera. You laughed at the photo as Sakusa grabbed at it.

“I didn’t know that you were going to take a picture of me, you ass! Delete it!”

“Nah, this is too good! Kiyoomi I really think you should do this for a game! You look precious!”

You quickly ran over to the couch next to Motoya, showing him the off guard picture you got of the two of them. The two of you were in hysterics. Sakusa ran over to the couch to join the two of you. Placing an arm around your shoulder he broke into laughter as well.

Lose hair flowed on the sides of his face. His eyes squinted shut as his laughs filled the room.

“You ought to delete that picture though, seriously.”

You shook your head at him.

“This is too good. I might just send it to your whole team.”

“Don’t even think about it.”

After some time, the three of you settled down and watched a movie. You rested your head on his shoulder. His arm never left your side. The three of you passed out cold.

Motoya’s mother laughed at the view she had of the three of you as she took her shoes out of the door. Her own son was sprawled out on the end of the couch, snoring the night away. Kiyoomi’s head rested on the couch. Tufts of hair were popping out of the braid. His arms loosely wrapped around you. Your head rested against his chest and your arms rested around his stomach.

She laughed quietly to herself, leaving the kids to sleep.

This was the first time that you fell asleep on Sakusa Kiyoomi.

“What do you mean that you didn’t have a good time at the camp? It’s literally for the Olympics!” You had your hands on your hips as you stared at Saksua. He sulked in your kitchen chair. He came over as soon as he had gotten back from camp.

“I do not understand how Shiratorizawa lost. Kageyama Tobio wasn’t necessarily an extraordinary feat to watch-”

“You do understand that there’s a reason why he got invited there as well, right?”

“I’m trying to be realistic here.”

“Well since both schools are going to nationals, maybe you can play them in the bracket. You’re the number two ace in the country because you worked hard Kiyoomi. I don’t care if some brat from Miyagi rubbed you the wrong way. You need to get over it and do your best. You and Motoya leave in two weeks.”

The two of you had spent the last hour bickering of his experience. Sakusa had a negative thing to say about almost every player that was there.

“If I want to analyze my potential opponent then I think you should allow me to. You’re not playing on the court whatsoever so I think you should keep your opinions to yourself about this situation.”

“Kiyomi, I’m literally the one who has helped you get to where you are now. I’ve spent hours of my own freetime, even getting physically ill coming up with ways to help you and Motoya improve your skills to be better players-”

“But nobody asked you to do that.” He glared at you. You falter at what to say next.

“I did it because you two are my friends. And I want you to succeed.” Each word articulated from your mouth excruciatingly slow. As if you were questioning yourself.

“You have a lot to say for someone who has never played the game before.” Sakusa snapped at you.

“Get out.”

“What?”

“Get out of my house. You do not talk to me like that here.” You made your way to the front door, holding it open.

“Out Kiyoomi.”

“I think we’re having a little miscommunication.” He rose from his chair. He hands beared out to you as he stepped towards you cautiously.

“No. Grab your bag. Put your shoes on and leave. I understood with clarity everything you just said to me. Now I’m asking you to leave. You said everything you wanted to.”

Sakusa’s head did not hang low as your gaze pierced through him. He slung his back over his shoulder and walked towards you. His height towered over you before he bent down, slipping his shoes over his heels.

He walked out without another word.

That was the first fight you had with Sakusa Kiyoomi.

In the next two weeks you didn’t walk to school with the boys, you did not study with them, you did not watch practice, you didn’t use breaks at school to visit their classrooms. Anytime Motoya had reached out, you politely avoided him. If Sakusa did it was like he wasn’t even there.

Nationals were now upon the boy’s volleyball team. You followed the group solemnly to the bus. You had signed up as an official volunteer and there wasn’t any way to necessarily get out of it since you had already been excused from the school days.

You sat alone on the bus. Far away from your two friends. The ride was short. Upon arrival, you carried the medical bag to the team’s designated area for the day.

It was a clash of teams mingling at the entrance of the arena. Not one member of the team had made it to the area yet. You turned to see Sakusa’s standing in the corner of the room. His forehead creased and his chin tucked towards his chest. There were too many people for him. Motoya was mingling with random teams. You let out a small sigh and made your way to the designated area.

A hand gently rested on your shoulder.

“Can we talk?” Kiyoomi asked. He towered over you in height. You couldn’t see his face due to the mask, but he radiated stress. You nodded and sat next to him in the hallway.

The apology was quick, sweet, and straight to the point. You graciously accepted and it wasn’t any worry at all.

You could never truly be mad at him.

You continued to help the boy’s volleyball team until they lost the tournament.

You waited on the side of the court for the boys to come off. However, Sakusa was approached by fans and reporters.

You stood patiently on the other side of the toom. The opposing team’s captain approached you. He shyly flirted with you. Sakusa watched from afar as he continued to chat with the reporter.

This was the first time Sakusa Kiyoomi felt jealousy.

You, Kiyoomi, and Motoya stood side by side posing for pictures for your families. High school diplomas proudly in hand.

Kiyoomi graciously slipped away from everyone for a brief moment. His parents were fawning over the fact that he got accepted into college on a sports scholarship. Same with Motoya. Your parents were openly wondering what college you would choose to go to. You got accepted to five different ones, one of them the same as Kiyoomi.

You and Motoya bid your parents a farewell and began to leave the school together for one last time. Kiyoomi stood at the gates waiting patiently for the two of you. His blazer now slung over one shoulder, he used his other arm to gently rest around your shoulder.

“I’ll see you at the dinner, Motoya. I’m going to walk Y/N home.”

Motoya dipped his head in acknowledgement before parting ways.

You and Kiyoomi laughed and reminisced over the last three years. The late nights studying. Hanging around each other's houses. Him keeping you company as you read your books at cafes. The cat you two found outside of the school your first year. The god awful game of telephone pictionary that almost got the three of you suspended your second year of school. The failed attempts of learning how to play volleyball in third year. It seemed that all of the memories so precious to your heart were coming to a cease.

Your laughs faltered as you approached the gate of your home.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do when you leave for Osaka.” You laughed nervously as his arm slid off of your shoulder. He unconsciously moved a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Easy. Just go to the same school as me. It’s not that difficult of a decision.”

You laughed. “You know I haven’t even begun to choose the college I want to go to yet. I haven’t weighed the pros and cons of each school. Plus you got a full ride.” You sighed.

“Well a pro is that I’m there. I think that’s enough.” He tilted his head at you.

You let out a short laugh before turning your head away from him. “If only it was that simple.” You wondered aloud.

“I have to see how good the program is for what I want to do. I know that they’re the top in the country for it but will it really benefit me? What if financial aid doesn't end up coming through and I have student loans out the ass? What if housing is full? If I don’t have anywhere to live?”

Your thoughts were cut off by Kiyoomi stifling a laugh. He used a single hand to cover his mouth as he looked down at you. You shoved his chest playfully.

“What’s so funny?”

“You worry too much for someone who’s so smart.”

You rolled your eyes at him. He ran his hand through his hair before he rested it on his neck, his gaze never leaving yours.

“I don’t think I’ve ever told you how pretty I think you are.” He reached over and cupped your face. His long slender fingers gently tucked the rest of your hair behind your ear. He felt your skin heat up below his hand and laughed.

“Are you trying to be funny because you’re really bad at it.”

Before you could even react, Kiyoomi quickly closed the gap between the two of you. His lips were soft as he gently pressed his lips against yours. Your hands rose up quickly against his sides. Slightly panicking. He tilted your chin up slightly and you finally kissed him back.

You felt him smile against your lips as he pulled you closer.

He pulled away. Grinning like an idiot.

“I think you should go to that school in Osaka with me. I’m going to have an apartment and everything.”

You placed your arms around his shoulders and his slinked down to your waist.

“We’ll see.”

Kiyoomi’s body sunk into itself.

“I’ve been waiting to do that for quite some time now and that’s all you say? ‘We’ll see?’ It’s really not enough.”

“I mean who said I haven’t been waiting to kiss you too?”

He raised an eyebrow at you as you leaned up to place a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

“For how long?”

“After nationals in our second year when I saw a horde of fan girls for one of the best aces in Japan.” You reached up and pinched his cheek. “I thought to myself that I wasn’t jealous or anything, but I think I’ve thought about you romantically for a while now.” He narrowed his eyes at you before shaking his head for you to let go of his face.

“But you’re right. You’ve never told me I was pretty before, Kiyoomi.” You used your hands to bring his face down to yours.

That was the first time you and Sakusa Kiyoomi had ever kissed.

Sakusa Kiyoomi was disappointed to say the least that you did not follow him to college in Osaka.

Or so he thought.

Two weeks after his move there was a knock on his apartment door at 7am in the morning. Kiyoomi was a morning person, but he had no clue who it could possibly be. He pulled a sweatshirt over his body and pulled on sweatpants over his boxers.

There you stood with a suitcase in each hand.

“I chose Osaka because I don’t think I can handle being away from you for four years.”

Kiyoomi enveloped you in a hug, making you drop your luggage. He pressed your body against his chest and buried his head into the crook of your neck. He peppered kisses on your cheekbone until you turned to face him. He held your hands and kissed you sweetly before pulling you inside.

“Kiyo, you need to grab my bags.” You mumbled into his mouth. He gently put you down. Grabbed your bags and placed them inside and turned to face you. You looked at him expectantly with your arms open towards him. Without missing a beat he picked you up and spun you around.

“Are you sure you want to go to school out here?” He pressed a kiss to your temple. You nodded against his chest.

“One exception though.” You pulled away from him.

“Will you be my boyfriend, Sakusa Kiyoomi?”

“Yes.”

This was the first day you spent as an official couple.

The semester was beginning to take a toll on the both of you. Fortunately enough, the both of you managed to be taking the same courses for your basics and had a basic study regiment in the evenings. Kiyoomi’s volleyball practice ran from ungodly hours of the morning and the fatigue was catching up to him as finals week set upon the two of you.

You returned from the library and walked into the bedroom to see Kiyoomi sound asleep, laying on his side snuggling a pillow. Quiet snores spread through the room as his mouth was slightly agape.

You quickly showered and changed into a shirt of his before snuggling into bed beside him. You ran your fingers through his hair causing him to lean into your touch.

“Y/N” He groaned into the pillow.

“Hm?”

“C’mere.” He lifted up his arm as an invitation. You quickly obliged as his arm encased you into his chest.

“How was studying? Sorry I left so early.” He yawned.

Your arm wrapped around his side as your fingernails began to graze his bare back.

“It’s fine, Kiyo. I know how tired you’ve been lately. Being a student athlete is tough enough as it is.”

“I don’t want you to be stressed out because of my incapabilities.”

“You’re only human. And I’m stressed out because college is tough, not because you’re incapable of things.”

“I know.”

“Your voice is cute when you’re tired.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Nevermind.”

“I beg your pardon?.”

“Have I ever told you that you’re super handsome when you’re dead quiet. I know I can’t see you right now, but the whole brooding thing you usually have going on is usually pretty nice in my opinion.”

“Shut up.”

“Okay, Kiyo.”

“Y/N I’ll literally make you do all of the cleaning next week.”

“But Kiyo-”

“Shut up.”

“Anyways. I’ve missed you.”

“We live together. And study together. And go to school together.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah.”

“Remember that one time that you fell down the stairs in our second year? In front of the entire class?”

“I hate you.”

“I love you.”

“What?”

You sat up abruptly staring down at your boyfriend. He sat up, propping his hands on either side of his body. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes.

“I love you, Kiyoomi.”

A lazy smile graced the black-haired man’s features.

“I mean it!”

“I know you do. That’s why I’m smiling.”

“I really mean it, Kiyoomi. You’ve been my best friend since middle school. We spent every waking moment together. I got to grow with you as friends. I had the opportunity to watch you bloom into your passion by bringing you daifuku one day because I saw a quiet boy practicing all by himself. I’m so lucky for that moment of time. Even though we’re busy now, we get to hold each other at night and see each other’s achievements during the day. I think it’s so amazing that we have each other. I just want to cherish you.”

“I love you too.” He clasped his hand over yours.

“And I mean it too.”

That was the first time you and Sakusa exchanged ‘I love yous’.

The semester had come to an end. Kiyoomi rested his head on your lap as you watched TV and he watched volleyball highlights on his phone. You played with his curls absentmindedly.

“I can’t believe that Kageyama Tobio is playing on the Olympic team this year.”

“Who?”

“The kid who beat Wakatoshi our second year.”

“Oh that one.”

“I want to play in the Olympics.”

“I know Kiyo you just need to keep doing what you're doing and you’ll be on that stage in 2020.”

You pulled out your cell phone and took a picture of the two of you. Managing to get his glare and everything. You shoved the photo you just took in his face.

“Look! Do you know who that is?”

“Me. Sakusa Kiyoomi.”

“Correct!” You exclaimed. “He’s also my boyfriend and a future Olympian! A future representative of Japan’s men's volleyball team!”

Kiyoomi laughed. He locked his phone and just kept on laughing.

“You’re so precious.” He managed between laughs. He pulled his head from your lap and squeezed your cheeks with both of his hands.

“My girlfriend believes in me!” He sang song.

You placed your hands over his and pulled him forward into a quick kiss.

“Am I not supposed to?”

“I never said that.”

“You’re kind of suggesting it. Do you not like me anymore?”

He leaned forward, putting his lips on yours once more.

“You know I don’t like you, I love you.”

(nsfw)

Butterflies rose in your chest at his words. You gave him the dopiest grin before you leaned into him once more. Your body leaned into his. Kiyoomi’s hands rose under your shirt as he pulled you on top of his lap. Your legs fell on either side of him as your fingers ran through his hair. As your hands reached the back of his head you fisted his curls, earning a quiet groan from the man underneath you. His hands pressed roughly into the skin of your hips. The surprise let Kiyoomi slip his tongue into your mouth.

He began to place open mouth kisses down your neck as his hands traveled up to your breasts. You quickly slid your shirt off over your head to give him more access. His kisses continued across your collarbone and down to your breast.

“Kiyo-” Your breath hitched in your throat as he swirled his tongue.

“Hmm?” He mumbled into your chest.

“Let’s go to the bedroom.” You said firmly, as you slid your hands to his shoulders to get him to look at you.

His dark eyes sparkled at you and nodded.

You got off of his lap and made your way to your room. Dropping your shorts to the ground, you kicked them to the corner of the room. Before you could even reach the bed, you were enveloped in a hug from behind. Kiyoomi’s bare chest warmed your back as he began to kiss your neck, your shoulders. A hand firmly on your hip and a hang squeezing your breast. His hands traveled your body hungrily. You turned to meet his face. Caressing it with the back of your hand you placed a gentle kiss on his nose, making him smile at you.

Your hands draped over his boxers as you generously worked them down his legs. Placing, small, eager kisses on his lips.

“I don’t think we have condoms-”

“Yes we do. They’re in my nightstand, I bought them just in case we ever-”

“Mhmm”

You lured Kiyoomi over to the bed as you stroked him. He opened the bedside table and carefully tore the wrapper before rolling the condom on. He hovered over you as he lowered you onto the bed, his lips not leaving yours once. His fingers caressed you, slipping in and out slowly, you moaned into his mouth, making him speed up ever so slightly as he kissed all over your body. He wanted to show you physically how much he loves you.

He positioned himself between your legs before slipping himself in. The two of you gasped at the newfound sensation. He moaned into your neck as your hands failed to grab at his back. He kissed your cheek and smiled at you. He began to roll his hips into you repeatedly. He was weary of his actions as his hands roamed your entire body. He didn’t want to go too slow or two fast. He never asked, he just studied your reactions as he pressed deeper into you. He began to hold a steady rhythm as moans began to spill from your mouth. Each sound encouraging him to unconsciously move faster.

“Kiyoomi.” Your nails sunk into his back, your lips struggled to find his. He moaned your name into your neck. He was reaching his climax as he shuddered inside of you. He kissed your forehead gently.

“I love you. Forever. I cannot imagine anyone else I’d share this life with.”

You stared at your boyfriend. He was studying your face with great intent as if to check if he made a dent. His hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat. You pushed it back making his curls bounce as they flopped back down. His body rose and fell steadily as he caught his breath over you. He gave you a small smile as he flattened your hair on your head, he gently pulled out of you before sitting on his knees and sliding the condom off of himself.

“Give me a second please.”

He walked to the bathroom and disposed of it and began to pick up the clothes from earlier and put them in the hamper. He returned to your side. He propped up his head on his hand as ran his fingers through your hair.

“I’m so lucky. Everyday.”

You smiled as he placed yet another tender kiss on your lips.

The night ended with Sakusa curled on your bare chest, fast asleep while you held him dearly through the night.

That was you and Sakusa Kiyoomi’s first time.

Today was Kiyoomi’s first V-League game.

You were never typically awake at the same times that he was. Ever.

You sleepily followed him around the apartment. He brushed his teeth first. You stifled a laugh as he began the skin care routine you taught him in high school. He ignored you, but followed suit. Next he fixed his bed head. Well you did. You sat on the counter with him between your legs as you gently raked product through his hair.

“Omi Omi.” You sang as he relaxed into your hands.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Why? I think Miya was onto something when he started calling you that.”

“No he wasn’t. He tainted the second half of my name when he started that shit.”

“Don’t be that way, Omi Omi!”

“Shut up!” He yawned.

“Or what, Omi?” You hopped off the sink and walked away from him.

“You’re gonna do what you did to me, last night? Right now?”

A sly grin rested on his lips before he pushed you to the bed.

“Good thing we woke up early.”

You stayed arm and arm with Kiyoomi at the bar where his teammates won. The Black Jackals won their very first game.

You glanced up at your mask-clad boyfriend as he glared at his teammates.

“Omi Omi! I didn’t know you were bringing your girlfriend!”

“Hi! You must be Atsumu!” You extended your hand to shake his, but Sakusa cut in front of you.

“Don’t touch him.” He rolled his eyes.

“It’s called being courteous, Kiyo. You ought to try it!” You shoved his chest.

“I can’t believe Omi Omi has a heart. He actually talks about us at home.” Bokuto bunched up his shirt on his chest, his eyes watering.

“You’re telling me.” Atsumu huffed.

“To be clear, the only person I respect on this team is Meian and I think it’s all valid.” Sakusa glared at the two men. His gaze lost it’s focus once he heard your laugh and reeled back into the conversation that you were having with Hinata.

His teammates smiled as they were watching a never before seen Sakusa Kiyoomi.

As the night progressed more and more drinks were spread amongst the team.

You and Kiyoomi balanced the drinks the best you could, but after all, it was your first time drinking. Ever.

Both of you, equally wasted, exited the bar and ordered a ride home. Laughing up the stairs the two of you tumbled into your bedroom. Kissing and everything in between.

Sakusa Kiyoomi looked at you like you were the light of his life and he made sure you knew it.

You studied his features as he drunkenly told you stories of when he was little. His dark brown eyes squinted at you as little laughs escaped his mouth. Anytime he smiled one corner of his mouth rose higher than the other. Anytime Kiyoomi reached for your hand, he always managed to be the most gentle with his spindly fingers. His kisses were so soft. Even now as he continuously reaches down to kiss you. Even though your own lips are numb from the alcohol rushing in your veins.

This is true love.

“I told you that you’d be in the Olympics.”

You wrapped your arms around him as you stood behind the couch, smothering his cheek with kisses.

“I know! I’m glad everything paid off!”

“Me too. Me too.

“I think this is the first time I’ve ever dated an Olympian.” You stared at the phone in Kiyoomi’s hand. The congratulatory email.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“What do you think about marrying an Olympian? Pretty practical, right?”

You grinned from ear to ear.

“I think that’s the best idea you’ve had in a while.”

“I’d like you to know I’m full of great ideas. I mean we’ve been together for six years. And it’s because I kissed you since you wouldn’t kiss me. I think that it’s a fair assumption that I’m the brains of this relationship. I also made the idea for us moving into this city home. I also made the executive decision for us to buy a cat.”

“Kiyo. That’s not how that went. You know damn well I brought the cat home when you were done with practice and you hit me with the whole ‘I guess we can do it if we clean the litter box everyday’. I think you’re remembering things incorrectly. Per usual.”

“Dunno, but it took my decision making to allow her to stay in this home.”

“Uh huh. Now that I think about it, it would be my first time marrying an Olympian.”

“Well duh. I mean look at me.”

“ I was talking about Miya, you dolt.”

He let out a hearty laugh. “I guess you can take the role of the funny one.”

The first time Sakusa became a parent. He had almost passed out in the delivery room. He’ll never acknowledge it to you, however when friends asked he claimed that childbirth was ultimately disgusting.

His eyes shone the moment your son entered the world.

He held him delicately as if he could break. He was laughing as he gently brought him down to you.

You stared down at the baby you and your husband had brought into the world and you couldn’t help but think of the first time you saw Sakusa Kiyoomi and the blessings the boy brought into your life.

(A/N) the smut scene wasnt supposed to be good!!!!!!!!! It was their first time so it wasn’t supposed to be some god tier orgasming experience. It was supposed to be plain and about their connection!

thanks for reading (:

568 notes · View notes

damonalbarn · 3 years

Note

Hey I was wondering if you knew the article that Justine spoke about suzi in?!

It was in The Guardian in 2000. Here you go:

Sweet revenge

In the mid 90s, Justine Frischmann and Damon Albarn were the First Couple of Britpop. Then he used a Blur album to rake over their break-up, while she languished in obscurity amid rumours of heroin addiction. Now she's back with a new album, and it's her turn to exorcise her demons.

Caroline Sullivan

Friday March 24, 2000

As Alison Moyet once said, it's hard to write a decent song when you're happy. Rock bands thrive on romantic turmoil in their private lives, without which they would be reduced to padding out lyrics with football scores and the weather.

Thus it was for Blur's Damon Albarn in mid-1998 when he sat down to write what would become the 13 album. His eight-year relationship with Justine Frischmann of the chart-topping Elastica, whom he once described as **"the only person who's ever been completely necessary to me" **had just ended, at her instigation. Pained and humiliated, he decided to exact revenge by exposing their most intimate details to public scrutiny.

The outcome? Embarrassment for Frischmann, a number one album for Blur and a bit of a result for Albarn.

Break-up albums are by definition both embittered and yearning - in the case of Marvin Gaye's vindictive Here, My Dear, they're just plain nasty - but 13 got more up-close and personal than could be considered gentlemanly. Albarn portrayed his former partner as neurotic, even slipping apparent drug references into the single Tender: "Tender is the ghost, the ghost I love the most/Hiding from the sun, waiting for the night to come". Frischmann was the ghost, supposedly, who was on the verge of being consumed by what one music paper euphemistically called "the darkness at the heart of Elastica".

Frischmann's response can be found on a song called The Way I Like It, which appears on Elastica's first album in five years, The Menace (out next month): "Well, I'm living all right and I'm doing okay/Had a lover who was made of sand, and the wind blew him away".

This is unlikely to be her last word on the subject. As she ambivalently begins her first round of interviews since 1996, she's finding that everyone has the same three questions. Why did Elastica nearly sabotage a promising career by taking so long to follow up their million-selling debut? Had Frischmann taken leave of her senses when she walked out on Mr Britpop? And what about the drug rumours?

"One journalist said to me, 'Dahling, I heard you were on heroin - Mahvelous!' " she says with some amusement. "Drugs are around, but I'm not that interested and never have been, although there have been elements of party animal in my band. The rumours are a lot to do with rock'n'roll mythology, where people want to believe you're having a more exciting time than you are."

The only drugs on her person today, as she perches on the edge of an armchair in her publicist's north London living room, are Marlboro Lights. Her other indulgences are two cups of herbal tea and a Cadbury's Flake cupcake, which she nibbles with well-bred pleasure. Her dark eyes are clear, and her long, tanned body is a testament to the virtues of a daily swim in a pool near her Notting Hill home. Only Elastica know whether they really succumbed to heroin and hedonism after their self-titled debut made them more famous than they'd ever expected to be, but if they did, Frischmann, 30, seems little the worse for it.

Given the current predominance of damnable boy bands, the Britpop mid-90s are beginning to seem like a halcyon period for English music. It was a time when the underground went overground, and a self-described "little punk band" like Elastica could sell 80,000 albums in a week.

More than a few loser guitar groups saw Britpop as a licence to print money, but Elastica, led with cool elan by the androgynous Frischmann, were one of its gems. The Blur connection was a marketing godsend (Frischmann and Albarn met on the London indie circuit, she as guitarist in an early line-up of Suede and girlfriend of frontman Brett Anderson, he as a cherubic baggy hopeful), yet the spiky-haired Elastica LP embodied that euphoric time like nothing else.

Frischmann, guitarist Donna Matthews, drummer Justin Welch and bassist Annie Holland were unprepared for the album soaring to number one in its first week. When they signed their record deal, Frischmann, whose great-grandfather was a conductor of the Tsar's orchestra at the Summer Palace in Byelorussia, was five years into an architecture degree at London University. A liberal north London Jewish upbringing - her engineer father built the Oxford Street landmark Centrepoint - had instilled expectations of success, but the reality of being photographed in the supermarket and having her rubbish stolen was a shock. Fiercely independent, she also resented her unsought role as half of Britpop's First Couple.

There was more. Two of Frischmann's musical heroes, The Stranglers and Wire, decided that two Elastica songs were suspiciously similar to two of their own tracks, and won royalties. Meanwhile, there were malicious rumours that Albarn had done much of the work on the record. He hadn't, but he did find Justine's success in America, where she was substantially out-selling Blur, hard to endure.

"It was very hard for him to deal with and he's very confrontational," she says, with the flattering openness of someone who prefers interviews to be more like conversations. She admits she often says too much, but in an era of image control and spin, her honesty makes her a one-off. Not that she's likely to land herself in it too badly - she possesses the intellectual ammunition to look after herself, which must have been instrumental in attracting two of rock's more articulate stars, Albarn and Anderson.

She's been accused of being a professional rock girlfriend, though it was probably they who were lucky to get her. She spent the cab ride over reading the Sylvia Plath letters in Monday's Guardian, and muses on the irony of the poet's subjugating herself to Ted Hughes when she was the more gifted. (Her new boyfriend, by the way, is an unknown photographer, "though that'll probably change, because men seem to get famous when I go out with them".)

"I reacted the way a lot of women do, by being passive," she continues. "He put a lot of pressure on me to give up Elastica. He said, 'You don't want to be in a band, you want to settle down and have kids.' " In so many words? "In so many words. He kept putting on pressure till I started to believe him." She adds bemusedly: "I've met his new girlfriend, and one of the first things she said was that he wanted her to give up travelling with her work to stay home with the baby [Missy, born last autumn]. I'm surprised he's got away with being thought of as a nice person for so long."

After 18 months, during which they did seven American and three Japanese tours, Elastica came off the road to record company demands for an immediate second album. Annie Holland's response was to quit the group, while Donna Matthews became renowned for hard partying on the nocturnal west London scene. They lethargically recorded some demos, but their heart wasn't in it. By 1997, when a second album should have been ready to go, Frischmann and Matthews were barely speaking, and there was nothing useable down on tape.

Holland's replacement, Sheila Chipperfield (of the circus Chipperfields), was deemed not good enough and left by mutual consent. By 1998, their continued lack of productivity was being likened to the Stone Roses' lengthy and ultimately self-destructive holiday between their first and second LPs.

"I didn't think Elastica were going to continue at that point, and we did kinda split up," she says, absently stroking her publicist's cat. Frischmann is a cat person; she's owned a tabby called Benjamin since she was 10. "Unconditional love," she coos. The pet's place in her life is so assured that prospective boyfriends are subjected to his feline scrutiny before she'll go out with them.

On top of everything else, in early 1998 her relationship with Albarn was in trouble. Frischmann retains enough of the indie ethic to detest the phenomenon of celebrity couples, and was dismayed when they became one. "I really hated the tabloid interest, and I went out of my way not to be photographed with him. Only about three pictures of us together exist, I think. In many ways, I think the media interest broke us up, because it made me feel the relationship was quite ugly, and I had to get away from it. There were other factors, too, obviously, because we were together for eight years, and I finally felt it was better the devil you didn't know, really."

Albarn's ego seems to have been severely undermined by having a girlfriend who was nearly as successful as he was, and something of a sex symbol to boot. Despite adopting a resolutely boyish T-shirt-and-jeans uniform, she's thoroughly feminine, a mix that got her voted fifth most fanciable woman in a lesbian magazine.

"I'm completely heterosexual, so I didn't know how to take that. It scares the shit out of me, the idea of being with a girl. I'm glad I've narrowed it down to half the people in the world."

She seems to view Albarn with indulgent exasperation these days, simultaneously praising his intelligence ("The Gallaghers just couldn't compete") and ticking off his flaws. "Damon adores being in the press, and sees all press as good press. He orchestrated that rivalry thing with Oasis. He really wanted kids, and I didn't feel our relationship was stable enough. He was a naughty boy, and he wasn't the right person to have kids with. I had this cathartic moment..."

At which point they split up. Albarn wrote 13 and then met Suzi Winstanley, an artist. "She was pregnant within three months," Justine observes wickedly.

Of the acclaimed 13, she's tactful, describing several songs as "really lovely". She studies her cigarette for a while before adding, "but I'm cynical about selling a record on the back of our relationship". But you're doing the same now. "It's true, but at the time I had no right of reply."

Elastica finally pulled themselves together last year, just as the music industry was about to write them off (their American label had already "very kindly let us go", as she puts it). Holland rejoined, Matthews went to Wales to sort out her life and the band banged out an EP and played the Reading Festival. Things came together quickly after that. They spent the last £10,000 of the recording budget on re-recording a dozen tracks, finishing the album, after years of procrastinating, in six weeks. They've called it The Menace "because that's what it was like to make".

It's dark and resolutely uncommercial - all wrong for 2000's pop-oriented climate. It's unlikely to match the success of the first one, which is fine with them. Call it (though Justine doesn't) their White Album. Its 70s punk aesthetic brings to mind angry girls such as the Slits and the Au Pairs, although the defining mood isn't anger so much as catharsis. None of the songs is specifically about Albarn, she claims. "The dark feeling is due to the sense of isolation, tasting success and getting frightened by it. I was questioning whether I wanted to be in a band any more, and there was no one I could ask for advice. Getting success and everything you ever dreamed about is hard to handle, and makes you question everything."

She's better prepared for success, if it comes again, this time. Already the privacy-preserving barriers are in place. The next interview of the day is with Time Out magazine, which wants a list of her favourite restaurants. "I'm not telling them where I eat," she says reflexively. "I'm gonna lie."

#questions #damon albarn #justine frischmann #blur #elastica

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deniigi · 3 years

Text

Lando The Nosy Neighbor AU

Title: good fences make good neighbors

Summary: Modern AU based off the premise presented to me as ‘Han and Leia move into the same neighborhood and start a feud, only to eventually overthrow the local Homeowner’s Association.’

Relationships: Pot-farmer!Han/Lawyer!Leia; Farmboy!Luke/Survivalist!Din; Lando & Breha Organa & Chewbacca

This is based off a rural community in Washington which has local cults.

Lando POV

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

A hippy has moved in next to the Organas.

It’s a good one, too. This one hasn’t even rented a moving truck, they’ve just come on over with all their furniture tetris-ed in on top of itself and wrapped tight with rope, blankets, and prayer.

Lando’s petunias screech for watering as the hippy throws open the truck’s door and comes staggering out, cracking his lanky back. Out of the other side comes an even hairier, even lankier person. He closes the truck door and looks right at Lando.

He stares.

It is a challenge. But of course, not one that Lando is not prepared to handle.

He points at his watering can.

Hippy Two seems to scoff.

Lando waits until he’s distracted by the first hippie struggling with the blue house’s doorknob to dump the remaining water into the pebbles under his ornamental bridge.

He returns inside and goes about his busy business, tying back the curtains.

It is always good to have someone new in the neighborhood.

It takes the hippy couple a few weeks to get settled into their new home, and in that time neither has ingratiated themselves to Lando.

The stupid one with the floppy hair caught onto Lando’s tricks at the weekly poker match held in the local bar. Lando may have lost his irrigation system, but he has not lost his dignity. It was old anyways. He’s been planning to replace it for nearly a year now. There is never a better time than the present to start making your dreams into reality.

And anyways, the floppy haired out-of-towner will get what is coming to him. Lando has already sown the seed of his demise.

Leia Organa returned home to look after her poor, sick, stubborn mother just two months ago. Breha is fine, of course, not even cancer could snuff out her fires, although she is bored of her husband and daughter trying to trap her indoors. Her immunocompromised escapades have been delightful to watch.

The Organas are always a lively group. There is never a dull moment or lack of machinations among them—especially the lady of the household. She, like Lando, appreciates a good tussle. Which is why he has pointed out to Leia that her new neighbors’ greenhouse is mighty interesting, is it not?

Lawyer Leia’s ears pricked up like a horse’s, and Breha’s sharp eyes took on new sheen.

Lando watches Leia in the mornings now, struggling to find upper-body strength and purchase on the wood of her backyard fence, among the roses and bougainvillea. She’s so tiny, Leia. Breha is not an overly large person either, and thus is no help in this endeavor to collect data on the greenhouse of questionable origins and purposes on the other side of the fence. Leia doesn’t need her, though. She needs no one. She’s seen what she needs to.

Lando pours tea from a glass pot given to him by someone in his company who wishes for their secrets to remain so and beautiful, clear amber liquid fills his cup.

He looks up to see Leia holding her phone out as far as she can without relinquishing her grip on the fence. She fumbles, trying one-handedly to document the crime before her, but alas. Even the mighty sometimes trip on the red carpet.

The phone slips. She grabs after it in slow-motion, horror filling every pore of her face.

It is gone now, that phone.

The Public Nuisances will know what she has been up to.

Lando sighs and leans back in his seat.

It is no time at all before the dropped phone is returned graciously over the white, waist-height fence that separates the Public Nuisance’s yard from the Organas’. Leia snatches her phone back and wipes it off with her hand and sleeve. The shorter public enemy, Han, he calls himself, smiles at her cheekily. He retracts his hand and gestures to the taller fence, barely visible for the fruit trees and vines, between their backyards and says something that makes Leia go very, very still.

It is, undoubtedly, a challenge. Not unlike the one that that the more polite public nuisance, Chewie, opened his and Lando’s relationship with.

Chewie has explained without mincing his words, that he and Han have come here because their last venture was lost in a snowstorm. Chewie will be damned if his precious seedlings are so callously frosted over again. The Pacific Northwest has no chance of freezing over, he says. It provides a better setting to grow stock.

Weed, he means. Marijuana. Chewie is again, not shy. He and Han make good money supplying dispensaries with their organic, hand dried leaves. It is apparently ‘artisan’ like in quality.

Lando isn’t sure he’d go that far, but yes, it is nice stuff. And yes, Leia, bastion of justice, does need to see the men’s permits.

Lando opens the window for a breeze and catches Han telling Leia that he’ll produce them if she arm wrestles him for the right to witness their authenticity. Leia agrees. Han fetches a small worktable from the house’s garage and sets it between them.

The match is over within seconds. Leia has never been so insulted in her life. She demands a rematch and, out of sheer indulgence, Han gives it to her.

He is nearly a foot taller than her. He could lift her up and over her own fence with ease if he so desired. He wins the next round. And the next one. He loses the last one by reason of having his leg deadened under the table but stands abruptly to renegade on his earlier promise.

“You watch yourself, princess,” he calls over his shoulder with his hand on his front door’s knob.

“Oh, I’ll be watching,” Leia snarls back.

Han slams the door. Chewie looks from him to Leia standing fuming in the shade of her family’s pine trees.

“Unbelievable,” she snaps at him before stomping off herself. “UNBELIEVABLE.”

Lando flicks his eyes up to see Breha’s dining room window wide open. She too, has a cup of tea. She lifts it his way and he lifts his back.

Finally, some quality entertainment once more.

Han and Leia’s hatred has become neighborhood gossip. They have begun going to extraordinary lengths to gain the others’ attention. For example, Han, in weeding his sparce flowerbeds, was careful to shove the fruits of his labor between the fence slats into Bail’s well-tended herb garden. Bail, ever the gentleman, does not mind, but of course Leia feels that her family honor has been spat upon. She collects the weeds and returns them to her owner, via mailbox. It is kind of her to put the flag down, so Han knows that he’s received a message.

The retaliation is a mural in rainbow colors commissioned by Han and painted by one of the budding young teenagers from a school about a thirty minute drive downtown. It is...psychedelic. And facing Leia’s bedroom window.

Han asked the youth who painted it to add in a figure in the center of the composition; it is a brown-haired woman dressed all in white, surrounded by thorny vines, and attempting to climb a fence. The young artist must have felt like Michelangelo in the application of those delicate strokes of artistry. They knew they were creating something holy.

Han helps that along by bracketing the figure with solar lanterns that light up at night and keep the image fully illuminated.

When Lando arrives to Breha’s side to go on a walk, arm in arm, with her and her beast of a terrier, she giggles like a schoolgirl behind her hand.

“Han is very handsome,” she tells Lando.

“He’s alright,” Lando says.

“I think he and Leia are a perfect match. Will for will. No one’s ever dared to cross her like this.”

Now that is a fact.

“I wonder if this is the start of something more,” Breha says.

“What does your husband think?” Lando asks.

Breha waves him off dismissively.

“Oh, you know. He’s convinced that Leia will kill Han in his sleep, and we will be forced to post bail, but I told him—as I’ve told you, Lando—Leia’s too smart to get caught committing axe murder. Now poisoning, that’s a different story.”

Lando wakes up and makes coffee. He turns on his computer and opens his curtains to let the light pour in and warm his hardwood floors. He stands at the window, hiding a smirk behind his mug.

Leia has had enough. She has called the Home Owner’s Association and they are standing at Han’s front doorstep.

It is about three weeks before Han and Leia have overthrown the Home Owner’s Association for interfering in their escalating romance—ahem—bloodfeud. By then, Lando’s work-from-home situation is suffering. It is impossible to focus with those two cluttering up his view with distractions left and right. He determines that, for the sake of his finances, he must direct his attention to something a little further afield.

The Lars’s vegetable stand is becoming something of an institution.

It’s about a mile or so out of Lando’s way, tucked smack in the middle of the battlefield that is the stretch of land between the survivalist cult that lives in the forest and the pseudo-Buddhists that live in their compound. The farm itself is a few acres and the Lars’s son can be seen walking around, herding livestock out of the road and into pastures.

Lando has heard whispers that this son is none other than Leia’s twin brother, but no one has the nerve to directly ask the Organas about the truth of such a scandalous idea. The most that can be said about Luke Lars-Skywalker is that he is a master of social media.

He has created a Youtube channel and an Instagram to document the practices of his family’s farm and the products they produce. He is in a twitter-war with many communities online for his videos on small-scale bee-keeping, and his family’s stand is proudly boycotted by the vegan association in the city on farmer’s market days.

It has become well-known among the farm-to-table restaurants in the city, though, and that is why Luke keeps on keeping on with his cows and his fowls and his silly camera holder.

But all that means little because Luke Lars-Skywalker is in love.

Anyone with eyes can see it.

He is in love with an ancestral enemy.

See, in this area there are not one, but two cults and naturally, they abhor and reject the others’ teachings. To the south are the pseudo-buddhist, clairvoyants who have fashioned themselves more or less as monks preoccupied with meditation, self-development, and a few fairly mystical beliefs among the rather terrifying devotion to martial arts. To the north are the survivalist whack-jobs who don’t believe in electricity or running water, but who are also, somehow, preoccupied with self development and a terrifying devotion to martial arts.

Both groups have publicly denounced the other as misguided extremists.

The rumors say that Luke and Leia’s biological father is one of the clairvoyants, and this is where the heart of the current delightful irony lays.

Luke Lars-Skywalker is in love with one of those survivalists.

Lando knows this because he has seen it with his very own eyes.

He took a trip a while back to purchase some greens from the vegetable stand and he was there for a little while, picking through the selection, when he looked up and saw Luke’s posture explode out of its lax boredom. Lando looked over his shoulder to see what Luke’s tan, freckled attention had latched onto and lo and behold.

It was a man. And not only a man, a man with a baby.

Luke stuffed knuckles into his mouth to keep from cooing as the father of the child nodded at him and meandered over to have a poke through the produce piled up on the stand. The baby, dressed carefully in layers of warm, water-resistant clothing, watched Luke right back. He smiled and grunted, waving his dark, stubby arms and Luke melted—literally collapsed into a fraction of his size behind the paystation.

The father, a white rugged guy with dark curly hair and a great deal of stubble, shifted the baby to his other arm. His worn, heavy clothing and the military-style canvas sack on his back marked him as one of the Cabin-In-the-Woods people.

Lando felt like he was watching a country romance flick in real life.

Luke gathered his courage and approached the dad and baby to ask if they were looking for anything in particular. The baby immediately held hands out to him. Luke asked the father if he could hold the little one. The father said ‘no.’

Lando nearly choked on his own spit.

“Oh, sorry buddy,” Luke said to the baby. “Daddy thinks I’m gonna eat you up.”

“He just got a bath.”

Luke gooey expression hardened in an instant.

“Excuse you. You sayin’ I’m dirty?” he asked. “You sayin’ I smell like horseshit?”

The father stared at Luke wordlessly.

“Pigshit,” he corrected.

“WHAT.”

Lando no longer needed only greens. He had to pick a cheese from this bountiful pile. Oh dear, so many to choose from.

“I said, you smell like pigshit. And he just got a bath,” the survivalist father said. “How much for the tomatoes?”

“Twenty a pound,” Luke said viciously.

“That’s steep.”

“There’s a discount for people who smell like pigshit.”

“You get a lot of those?”

“No, but I know how to wallow in the time between buyers.”

“Are you angry or something?”

“Take your damn tomatoes.”

“I didn’t pay yet—”

“Just take ‘em. Go. Go.”

“Twenty—?”

“Hey, Mr. Calrissian, that’ll be ten-fifty,” Luke said over the protests.

That was then. This is now. And Luke Lars-Skywalker has not let up on his tirade against this survivalist. Nor, it is important to note however, has the survivalist stopped coming to the vegetable stand when Luke is working it.

What is even more is that Lando can see with his own two eyes that the survivalist is not holding his baby at the vegetable stand now, as Lando closes his car door a little ways from the stand. Luke smiles at Lando as he draws near; he is bouncing at the knees. He waves the baby’s hand in greeting and the child gurgles and twists back to grab at his face.

Lando smiles and does not say anything.

He finds Chewie inspecting a sprinkler at the edge of his and Han’s yard on the way back and crosses the street to inspect it with him. It sputters. Chewie suspects outloud that their squirrels are getting stronger and more destructive by the day.

Lando asks him if he’s been the Lars’s vegetable stand since moving into town.

He has.

Lando asks if he’s ever seen Luke there, holding a baby.

He has.

Lando is smug.

“Mr. Rugged Mountain Man is falling for the farm boy,” he tells Chewie.

Chewie lifts a thick eyebrow.

“One day soon, that baby is going to go from living off the grid to living in a barn,” Lando tells him. “Mark my words.”

Chewie tells him that that is impossible without a kidnapping charge because the Rugged Mountain Man is the straightest man that he’s ever seen. Lando tells him not to judge a book by its cover.

Weirder things have happened. Han and Leia, for example.

Chewie tells him that he knows that Lando is somehow responsible for those two’s newly inescapable sexual tension and he will never forgive him for it.

Lando cannot believe his ears. Him? An instigator? Of course not, Chewie. He is but a humble spider, waiting around in his house for a fly to shake things up. He is an observer, nothing more, nothing less.

Chewie just points a finger at him.

Lando points a finger-gun back. He fires it with a click of his tongue.

#star wars #han/leia #dinluke #lando calrissian #fic #ficlet #don't mind me I'm just thinking about petty neighborhood politics

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biggest-stupidhead · 3 years

Note

Heyy!!

I dont think there's such think as semen donors in aot cannon?

BUT WHAT IF Captain Levi agrees to be the donor to squad leader (or just cadet) reader in a platonic relationship/eventual romance?

Just cute ackerbabies!

Lmao you’re probably right, no semen donors in canonverse. But I honestly love this idea so much, I feel like it would be hard for Levi to make that romantic connection so I could see him making that choice, and maybe it developing into something more!

Summary: Levi can’t wait any longer to start a family, and you are willing to take that step with him.

Word Count: 1.7K

You choked on the small sip of tea that you had taken. Catching the small drops of liquid that had escaped your lips.

“Come again now?” You managed to form words after a moment, Levi seemed uninterested as always, those charcoal grey eyes dull and apathetic.

“You heard me just fine, you know that I hate repeating myself.” He scoffed as he shifted so that his leg was crossed over his opposite knee,

“Yes I heard you but....marriage?” You were shocked to say the least. Levi had never shown any prior interest in any long term relationship with anyone, although the two of you had hooked up a handful of times.

“I don’t see why not. We already share a room, not to mention that we-”

“Okay I get it, just...it’s a big commitment and I’m not sure that I’m-”

“Oh please, what else do we have to look forward to anymore? No more fighting, no more political issues to deal with might as well settle down and...” He trailed off, his gaze cast downwards into his cup of tea, which was probably cold by now. You sighed deeply, placing your cup down gently and leaning back into the sofa that the two of you were seated on. His arm was slung casually across the back of the sofa, his finger tips ghosting over your shoulder.

“I know but Levi...marriage?” you were a bit disappointed. He had said it so casually, as if he was asking you if you wanted to run to the market to grab apples.

“If you don’t want to then just say no.” He snapped, clearly getting frustrated, he rose to his feet and began to march towards his desk. You chased after him, catching his wrist. You knew it was difficult for him to express himself, to put things lightly or being considerate to your feelings.

“It’s not that...I’m just a little caught off guard.” You admitted as you held his wrist gently. He let out a breath that he had seemed to have been holding in, he turned and laced his fingers through yours, his other hand diving into his pant pocket. You waited patiently for him to say something, but he only pulled out a small black box. Your heart skipped a beat, this was more how you had pictured being proposed to. He fell onto his knee and opened the box slowly, revealing a modest silver ring with a small diamond embedded in the ring.

“Oh Levi...” Your fingers were still laced with his as he knelt down, you squeezed his hand affectionately.

“I already bought the damn ring, just say yes.” He grunted, averting his gaze as his thumb glided over your knuckle.

“You have a point there.” You chuckled as you gave him a small nod, which was enough of a yes for him.

You were married by the end of the month, a simple court house wedding with Armin and Mikasa as your witnesses. Afterwards you had gone home and eaten dinner as usual. Just another week, except now the sex that you and Levi occasionally had, became a hell of a lot more regular. You had no complaints, or at least that was until you were hunched over the kitchen sink puking your guts out. You had missed your period as well, and it didn’t take a genius to know what that meant. You decided to wait until you were certain to tell anyone this however, seeing how difficult pregnancy could be, and the unlikeliness of carrying to full term seemed high.

So you made sure to go to the doctor twice before telling Levi that you were pregnant. He’d had a very similar reaction that you’d had when he had asked to marry you.

He choked on his tea, his hand flying to his chin to catch the liquid.

“Pregnant?” He repeated, and you nodded, leaning against the table where he was sitting.

“H-How long until...”

“Give or take seven months.” You shrugged, trying to put on a brave face, after seeing how frazzled he was you wanted to make this as casual as the rest of your relationship.

“So...we should probably start cleaning out that spare room and-” You cut him off by kneeling down and placing a chaste kiss to his lips.

“We’ve got plenty of time for that, for now let’s just...enjoy not being responsible for a helpless shitty baby.” You said softly as you slowly sank onto his lap. He hummed his approval, but still seemed rightfully on edge.

“We can start cleaning the room in few weeks, there’s no rush.” You assured him as you scattered kisses across his sour face.

“I’ll start tomorrow.” Levi hummed as he tilted his head to the side.

Turned out that you were both in way over your head. Around 12 weeks into your pregnancy Hange was pressing her stethoscope to your rapidly swelling belly when she froze. Levi tensed when he noticed this, and you frowned.

“What is it?” Levi asked as he gripped the back of the exam table.

“Nothing’s wrong...just-”

“Doesn’t seem like nothing.” Levi scowled as he watched Hange continue to feel around your stomach.

“That’s cause it isn’t nothing, I’m hearing two heart beats.” Hange told you as she stood to her full height.

“Two heart beats?” You felt feint at the news, you had known that twins ran in your family but you had never expected to have them yourself.

“Yes, it appears that you are having twins” Hange said with a wide smile as she folded up the stethoscope. Your vision blurred, the worry that you had been experiencing prior to the appointment had doubled along with the number of children you were having.

“No shit.” Levi replied breathily as he held your shoulder firmly.

“If I were you guys I’d go clean out that room now.” Hange advised as she cleaned up the space that you had been using as a makeshift exam room in her office.

“I’ll get right on that.” Levi said, shooting you a concerned look as he helped you up onto your feet.

The twins were born premature, the labor itself wasn’t nearly as bad as you had expected. But you realized that it wasn’t that bad because of how small they were. The only reason that they both survived was thanks to the Marleyan medical equipment that had been shipped over courtesy of Zeke and Yelena. You and Levi spent countless hours in the hospital as you awaited for the twins to be discharged. In that window of time you decided on names, it was difficult but you decided on Harrison and Harper. You weren’t surprised to find that they both took after their father, dark bluish grey eyes with a full head of black hair. The one thing they seemed to have gotten from you was your facial structure and your complexion.

It was a massive relief to bring them home, now instead of staying up until the wee hours in the hospital you could do it in the comfort of your own home.

One particular evening you were walking laps with Harrison, gently patting his back as you bounced off of your heels as he cried. On your third lap around the entire cottage, you peeked into the nursery to see Levi reclined on the rocker with Harper fast asleep. His eyes were closed, his naked chest rising and falling evenly as he slept. You envied him as you rubbed circles on Harrison’s back once more. His cries slowly died out and you managed to drag yourself to your bed and place Harrison down gently. Using the extra pillows, you managed to make a small barrier between him and yourself as well as the edge of the bed. It wasn’t often that you got to do this, seeing as you usually slept with Levi. But Harrison seemed content with laying in his dad’s spot for the night. His big blue eyes were watching your hair sway over his face as you adjusted the pillows. He cooed and babbled for a few minutes before falling silent, his tiny breaths putting you at ease.

It couldn’t have been but an hour later when the sound of Harper crying woke you once more. Levi was pacing around the same way that you had been earlier before he finally managed to put her at ease. He returned to your room to see you sitting up, Harrison fast asleep at your side.

“Care to join us?” You asked, voice gruff with sleep, or rather the lack there of.

“Would I ever.” Levi groaned as he placed Harper in the pillow barrier with Harrison who was still fast asleep. He managed to squeeze onto the bed, laying on his side like you were as the two of you watched Harper sooth herself into sleep. His gaze left the small baby in favor of studying your features.

“What would you have done if I had never asked you to marry me?” The question caught you off guard, your fingers were tracing the soft features of your babies. You hummed in thought but the answer was already on the tip of your tongue.

“I’d have asked you to marry me.” You said with a wry smile and Levi rolled his eyes at your cheesy reply.

“That’s not what I meant...well not really.” Levi grumbled, you paused again in thought. What would you have done? Certainly no more military work, that chapter was over for you.

“Maybe I’d open a bakery. My grandmother left me all of her recipes. What would you do?” You asked, finger running along the soft dark locks of hair that were growing from Harrison’s head.

“I’d open a tea shop.” Levi answered quickly, his own gaze back on the babies, his hand resting on Harper’s stomach, rising and falling with her breathing.

“Why don’t we just say fuck it and do it?” You asked, not sure if you were serious or if it was the lack of sleep talking.

“There was that space for lease last time we went into town...” Levi offered thoughtfully.

“Yeah, we could fix it up and open a cafe.” You said excitedly as you leaned over the sleeping babies in hopes of coaxing a kiss from Levi. He nodded in agreement before leaning over and planting a kiss to your lips.

“We’ll talk about it in the morning. Go to sleep.” Levi sighed as he stretched out on his side, and closing his eyes. You smiled and mirrored him, your hand resting on Harrison’s stomach now as well, your fingertips brushing his.

You knew that you’d made the right choice. Marrying Levi was the best decision that you’d made in a long time. It may not look like the typical love story, but you knew that it was real, realer than most relationships. And you wouldn’t want to have it with anyone else.

#hange zoe #levi ackerman #levi aot #aot fanfiction #levi x reader #armin arlert #eren jeager #eren mikasa armin #erwin smith #mikasa ackerman #levi fanfiction #levi is a dad #levi x y/n #levi x pregnant reader #levi x reader insert #levi/reader #levi x fem!reader

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hb-writes · 3 years

Text

You’ve Always Been Naive

Summary: It’s 1925 in the Little Lady Blinder universe. After an epic row, Tommy allows Clara to stay more regularly on Watery Lane with a few conditions, one of which is a mid-week meeting at the Midland Hotel to check in.

Characters: Tommy Shelby & Clara (Shelby!Sister)

Content Warnings: canon-typical content, angst, (underage) drug use (requested by anon)

Tommy glanced up from his whiskey sour as his sister stepped up to the table, her face a deliberately neutral façade as she set a ledger down in front of him, a week's worth of academic work stuffed inside the front cover.

"Lizzie said you'll need that for tomorrow," Clara offered as she extracted the papers, placing them on top and pushing the pile towards him. "And here are the assignments you've asked for. If that's all, I have plans, so…"

Tommy watched her determination waver a bit as he raised a brow, her confidence retreating the longer she stood planted in front of him, the first she'd been directly in his presence for a little over a week.

A meeting at the Midland Hotel had been Tommy's idea. Clara had accepted the summons, accepted the hotel as a sort of neutral territory though it was in no way impartial. The hotel was Tommy's home more days than it wasn't, filled with a staff as loyal to his payment as the staff of Arrow House, loyal like the staff of the company, but the Midland's staff didn't know Clara Shelby as well as the others. They didn't have their claws in her, couldn't appeal to her on Tommy's behalf like the others did, like little Charlie did, or Ada, so when Tommy requested the midweek meeting as a condition of his allowing her to stay on the lane far more often than she did under his roof, Clara felt she had little option but to agree.

Tommy barely glanced at the things she'd set on the table, more interested in the fact that Clara hadn't yet found her seat, still standing across from him bundled in all the cloth that had protected her from the stinging wind and chill on the walk over, almost as if she was convinced the coat and scarf and gloves would protect her from him too.

"Take a seat."

"I already said I—"

"You're going to make a scene?"

Both of Tommy's eyebrows rose with the question, the words almost a dare, or perhaps better likened to a threat, and Clara glanced about the room only to determine that the Midland wasn't the proper place for a shouting match with her brother. Scheduling the meeting there was meant to keep the two of them in check, but Clara knew Tommy would show no hesitation in raising his voice back should she choose to make a go of it, settling her firmly in the place where he thought she belonged with a mere line or two.

Clara's cheeks warmed at the mere thought.

"That's what I thought." Tommy shifted, sitting up straighter in his chair, eyeing its empty match across the table. "Take a seat."

Clara remained in her spot, pulling her eyes from him as she forced her finger into the opening between her coat sleeve and glove to expose the delicate watch set on her wrist.

Lizzie's handwriting in her diary had marked her down to be at the Midland with Tommy from 6:00 to 7:00, but she's made herself quarter of an hour late by a bit of purposeful dawdling at the office followed by a bit of nervous pacing out front of the hotel that had left her with chilled toes and wind-chapped cheeks.

"I really can't see why I need to. You've seen I'm alive and well—" Clara gestured to the book and papers. "—You have the ledger, have proof I've been doing as I've been told, and I'm certain you've already gotten reports off of—"

"Take a seat."

Tommy finished his drink, the ice clattering against the glass as he set it on the table, all of the force that wasn't there in his voice focused into the gesture before he pulled the papers closer, thumbing through her work though he cared little to see the grades or completeness. He had little concern that Clara wouldn't hold up that end of the deal, her motivations in that arena extending beyond any guidelines he could set for her.

And anyway, Tommy already knew she'd been towing the line. He didn’t need the completed packet of school assignments to know she was following his rules. He didn’t need this encounter to know she was alright either, his curiosity on the matter fulfilled well enough through reports from Lizzie and Ada and Frances and Michael, his confidence bolstered by the lack of contact from the school. Even Finn’s first words to him in every meeting over the last week and a half had been about their sister.

People usually told him things, always had, seemed to give him what he needed in that respect without him having to ask after it, but Tommy didn’t always trust the word of the world. There were some things he preferred to see for himself, some questions he needed to hear the answer to while seeing the reaction on her face before she got the chance to put her clever words in the way.

Something about the power of the impending fourth request to take a seat, and the knowledge that it wouldn’t be as much of a request as it was an order coming from Tommy’s lips, helped Clara to lower herself into the chair across from her brother. She kept quiet while Tommy thumbed through her work, slipping the gloves from her hands and settling them on the table though she allowed herself to shed nothing more as she sat on the edge of the seat, her back straight, every muscle in her feeling taut and strained while she waited.

“You’ve been busy.”

Clara nodded. She had been busy, and she was quite certain her brother was at fault for that, accepting her being out from under his roof, but not out from under his thumb, ensuring she had more than enough to keep her busy, keeping her so occupied once she held up her end that all she wanted was her bed.

The worst part was Clara knew it. She knew this wasn’t really the freedom she was after, the distance she’d said she needed, but she couldn’t help herself when it came to meeting expectations. Clara was losing either way, but the fact that she kept trying bothered her brother, that she knew. That she’d rather adhere to his rule and work herself to death than live under his roof and play that game unsettled him.

People listened to Thomas Shelby for many reasons—because of his influence or his threats, because they hadn’t a choice. He imagined his siblings fell into the last category, left without much of a choice, but he’d always imagined the girls were a bit different. His brothers filed in line like the soldiers they were, but the girls weren’t soldiers. The girls had always seemed to be tied to him and his words in some other way, some sort of different understanding falling between the three of them, but with Clara especially. The understanding didn't seem to be there any longer though, replaced with the same soldiering that he'd seen with his brothers.

“I’ve been doing as I was told,” Clara offered.

“And what were you told?”

Clara huffed, settling back in the chair, her shoulders slumping at his question, something about him making her repeat it for him doing the work that his tone alone couldn’t.

Clara fixed her gaze out the windows in the front as the waiter approached the table.

"Anything for the young lady, Mr. Shelby?"

"Tea," he said, not pulling his eyes from his sister, her annoyance at the order he placed on her behalf clear in the twitch of her face though she stayed quiet until the man stepped away.

"I'm not staying, Tommy. I told you I have plans."

He tilted his watch face to check the time. “Not until seven.”

Clara seemed to accept that seeing as she didn’t fight him, settling a bit further into the chair, shifting her gaze out the window once again.

“So, back to doing as you’re told, then.”

Tommy raised his eyebrows, blinking at her long and slow though she’d met his gaze for only a short moment before turning her attention elsewhere, to watch people coming in through the front door.

“School assignments, exams, the company, Sunday dinners. Your meetings...and all of it’s up to par, Tommy. I’m—”

“And what about this?”

Clara stilled as he set the blue vial on the table, her pulse picking up as he left it there and sunk back into his own chair.

"Tommy!" she hissed, nearly reaching out her hand to knock it from the table, to remove it from such a clear view, but no one was watching them.

Tommy scoffed, leaning forward and closing the vial in his hand before pointing a finger at his sister. "I told you if there was any fucking nonsense, I'd bring you right back home."

"I am home," she answered. "Can't get more like home than Watery Lane."

Tommy's snort was so quiet Clara didn't even catch it and he nodded, leaning his chin on his hand as he sat back, his finger idly rubbing his jaw as he considered her. "You think you're clever."

"I am clever," Clara answered, unwinding the scarf from her neck, her eyes diverted as she focused on the meticulous folding of the fabric before she set the bundle on top of her gloves. "You've always said."

Tommy shook his head, the second snort almost leading to a smile before he cleared his throat, shifting his position again and rooting around for his cigarettes before he spoke.

"I'm not in the mood for it, Clara. You've been asking questions about things you have no business with and it stops now."

Tommy caught her eye roll as he lit the cigarette, couldn't miss it really, the way the gesture took over her whole expression, her whole body really, and he wondered whether she'd done it on purpose or if it was just a reflex.

Clara was inclined to do far more than roll her eyes at him, a whole queue of arguments settled at the leading edge of her tongue, every part of her except her lips prepared to fight him because everyone else was allowed a bit of snow for the simple fun of it, but Clara had a feeling voicing that argument wouldn't do well in the end. It would only serve to tell him what he somehow didn't yet know, that she hadn't simply asked her questions, that she'd also tried it for herself.

It had just been the one time, to quell some curiosity, a small indulgence, and even if it had helped her stay alert to get done what she'd needed to get done, Clara wasn't keen to try it again. Tommy had no need of knowing it, so she swallowed her arguments, swallowed her pride and distaste for the double standards that ruled her life.

"Fine, Thomas. I've heard you. You want me to stop asking questions. And Michael and Finn are loyal to you, not me. It's all understood, nothing for you to waste your precious time worrying over." She was sitting up straight in the chair once again, perched on the edge and eager to be out the door before the tea came. "Is there anything else?" she asked. "As I said, I do have other plans."

Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose, releasing an exhale before tapping the ash at the end of his cigarette into the tray between them and holding her gaze.

“You’ve never tried it, then?”

Clara opened her mouth and Tommy let out a hollow laugh before she could answer, the cigarette pointed in her direction once again.

“And don’t you fucking lie to me, Clara.”

His gaze was unblinking and Clara held onto it as long as she could manage, not even allowing herself to breathe for several moments as she stared back at him, a familiar strain falling between the two of them.

Clara allowed herself a small intake of breath, attempted to take in a little air before she'd find herself gasping for it, attempted to extend the standoff a bit longer, but her resolve crumbled with the exhale, Tommy's attack coming before she'd even finished the breath.

“You’re going back to Arrow—”

“No, I'm not. It was just the one—”

Tommy's laugh cut her off, set a silence between them as he took a drag off the cigarette. “If you believe that, you’re just being naive, always have—”

“Excuse me?”

“You're clever, but you’ve always been naive,” Tommy said. “And all you’ve done this evening is show me that that is still the case.” He cleared some ash into the tray.

“If the work’s too much, you cut out the fun with the boys. It’s something you kids don’t seem to understand.” He set his finger down into the pile, jabbing the folder of school assignments and the ledger with each word. “The business comes first.”

Clara scoffed, the force of it so gentle it was barely noticeable, and she glanced at her watch. “It’s five after,” she said, scooping her gloves and scarf into her arms as she stood, pushing her chair back in place.

Tommy nodded. “I want you at the house on Sunday…to see Charlie. We can finish this then."

"There’s nothing to finish," she answered, setting her gaze away from him as she wrapped the cloth around her neck and pulled her gloves from the table, fitting one hand inside. "See you Sunday."

Clara took a step away as she worked the other glove over her fingers and Tommy caught her elbow, his hold far more gentle than any of the words he'd tossed at her during their meeting, more gentle than his stares or the mock laughter.

A wetness grew in Clara's eyes and she stayed faced away from him for a moment as she tried to resolve the tears, swallowing hard, her arm going limp as Tommy's grip shifted, sliding down her arm to clasp her wrist.

Enough. That's what his hand on her wrist meant, a gesture Clara and Charlie used to ask for the end of any bit of play that had gone a bit too far, a signal that communicated when it was too much, a gesture Clara knew Tommy had been deliberate in choosing.

"Clara, I mean it. No more snow, alright? If something were to happen, I…"

His words sent a searing lump into her throat, that combined with the touch sending her mind down into a spiral of guilt and shame, and as much as Clara hated Tommy for his role in it, for having the power to do it, she hated herself just as well for succumbing to it, even more for ever stepping out of line to begin with, disappointed with herself and her choices even though everyone else did it.

Clara cursed her brother and his temperamental provision of care, the sparse deliverance of love, and his double standards, and then she’d cursed herself, cursed the expectations and rules she’d set on herself and everything about the relationship that existed between them. Clara pulled her hand loose, tugging her glove the rest of the way into place before she took a deep breath, her back still to her brother as she bid him farewell.

"I'll see you Sunday, Thomas."

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#peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #shelby sister #shelby!sister #tommy shelby #clara shelby #little lady blinder #500 follower celebration #hb.writes angst #wednesday update

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syndxlla · 3 years

Text

Part Fourteen of the More to Love Series

Summary: The wedding is in a week, and you’re suddenly very aware of how little time you have left to figure out what to do. You decide to take matters into your own hands, and formulate a plan. Din invites you to a night of experience, and you admit a simple truth to him.

Word Count: 11.8k words, NO USE OF ‘y/n’

Warnings: SMUT (PiV, a little degradation, praise, creampie, cockwarming, dirty talk), use of alcohol, drunkness, mentions of scars, sexual harassment

Author’s note: HELLOOOO! this is a fun chapter, and i just wanna let y’all know that we are in the endgame now 😭. don’t worry, i still have so many plans for both the princess and din and just the whole world that MTL is set in. thank you for all the support on this story! it never ends and i will forever be thankful for your love!

Part thirteen

You were a fool for thinking the castle would start to settle down after the ball passed. Alternatively, the planning did not lessen, but instead shifted from masquerade prep to wedding prep. The decorations were taken out, and new samples were brought in. It was made very clear to you that this was really Korkie’s wedding and not your own, because every decision and plan that was made was done without your input.

It had been a few days since Din told you everything, and he truly told you everything. You had plenty of time to reflect on it, and process everything. You worked so hard to gain perspective on it, to try and give your future family the benefit of the doubt, and to understand the full situation. However, you ultimately sided with Din, your heart aching for the situation he was placed in. It had been apparent that he would not have told you any of that if he did not hold immense trust in his heart for you, and the word Ka’rta over grew into your thoughts for all these days. The both of you had agreed to tone things down, deciding it would be a fair middle ground. Less nightly endeavors would keep you two apart, and therefore less suspicious, but it especially made the reunions of passion more sweet.

Your mother was long gone, she left three days ago, and finally you felt that you had the palace to yourself again without Hugo and various other guests breathing down your neck. Your time as Corellian Princess was in it’s endgame now as your imminent marriage to Korkie was just on the horizon, and you still had no idea how to escape from it. Most of your days, you spent making up excuses for missing afternoon tea, and trying extra bites of potential wedding cake flavors in the kitchen. Regardless of what you did, however, Din was always there with you, three paces behind. You were also given the opportunity to dismiss him more often now. The eager infatuation with him has slowly become a steady understanding of feelings, and the two of you were able to fall into a groove without the anxiety of wondering how the other felt, and how long it would be until you reunited. Tradition and duty had lightened up as well, and there were less eyes on how Din was treating you, which gave you the liberty to give him back an ounce of his life.

This was one of the best things to ever happen to Din. You would retire to your room early every night, hoping no one would wonder if you were ill, and because you were away from the eye of Kryze, you could allow Din to leave the castle early. At seven, sometimes even six, he would go home to his son. It made everyone happy, and that is why it was important to happen. This was much preferred over a midnight dismissal. You also noticed a change in Din’s presence after this change was made. He was springier, chuckling more, even sitting down when the two of you were alone. He had finally relaxed around you, and you accredit to the pure fact that he was finally getting more rest.

Those were your favorite parts of the day: when you and Din would find a quiet corner in the library, or maybe an empty sitting room, and he would just tell you about the world. He had been everywhere, you were convinced. He went into detail of cities in Coruscant, explaining how they have extravagant silk markets and countless taverns with exotic drinks. He described the heat of the desert, and how he once had to search for a merchant’s missing camel in return for clean water, a story that led to one of the scars on his back and a very rational fear of the desert at night. His favorite place to tell you about, however, was his home. The Nevarro Frontier clearly had a special place in his heart, and he spoke fondly of it’s tall mountains and tight-knit communities.

“Nothing like the Mandalore you know.” He would sigh. A kingdom that may have been fantastic on the outside, but was riddled with war and political division and heartache on the inside. “Maybe I can take you there someday.”

It was those words that sparked your imagination, and the plan began to formulate.

The real dilemma you had been in all this time was trying to figure out how to live happily with a man you truly loved, but also protect your kingdom, home and family. It was a delicate situation, one with many sighs and frustrated nights. However, after Din explained his battle with Bo to you, it’s resolution was slowly becoming more clear. There had to be a way you could win in this story. You would not give hope on that truth.

When Din mentioned taking you to his home, you realized that there was very little keeping you from up and leaving Mandalore in the night. It would be a scandal, it would probably cause an all-out war, but it was worth a try, or at least a dream.

Now, when you had afternoon conversations with Din in the library, you were studying maps of the world. You familiarize yourself with the terrain of Mandalore, how long it might take to get to the Sundari Front, and drawing out escape routes on the backs. Din assumed you had thrown yourself into cartography so you could grasp his stories and adventures fully, which wasn’t altogether false, but it went deeper than that. You tried to keep it under control, but you were slowly becoming more and more consumed by your studies: a recurring issue in your life.

Din hadn’t realized you were becoming obsessed with the geography of the world until about a week after the ball, when you fell asleep by candlelight at a table in the library, your face smushed into the parchment of a map depicting some old blueprints that he had paid no attention to, and your hair falling over your eyes. It was almost dawn, and he had come back from his time with his son already, distressed to see no one had the courtesy to wake you up and take you to your room. He didn’t really expect much else from Mandalore, however.

Din blows out the candle, and gently picks you up, being extra careful not to wake you, and carries you bridal-style out of the library and to your suite. It was these moments that Din looked forward to the most. When he did not have to put on a face, when he did not have a million rules to follow. When your sleepy head rests into his chest, and he can look upon your face with his own eyes, no helmet to obstruct it.

As Din looked upon your resting face, there was much he realized. He first noticed that scar on your body that he hadn’t seen before, and swiped his thumb over it. He also studied the way your chest rose and fell with each breath, how you were perfectly still, and yet completely full of life and beauty and pure goodness as you slept. Din deeply admired how much you cared, how much you cared about everything. The wellbeing of the staff, the customs of Mandalore, him. You threw yourself into your passions, and you had a deep love for the hobbies and aspects of your life that no one else he knew possessed. You were a dedicated person, and he found both attraction and respect ino that.

Din also realized a fundamental truth at the very moment the sky began to lighten up, your cracked balcony doors letting the curtains blow into the suite dreamily. Din felt at peace. It had been so long since he felt peaceful. Too long. He felt the same type of peace here with you that he would normally feel sleeping under the stars with his son nestled to his side. Or the same feeling of peace that he felt when he held his son for the first time. It was a rare feeling, and it was pure. It was so rare that it was only saved for the people most important to him in his life.

You woke up a few hours later, changed out of the pale yellow gown you fell asleep in. Din had not only put you in your nightgown, but had taken the time to pull your hair so it was out of your face. He was more thoughtful than you could have ever imagined. The Knight sits with his back against your door, helmet tilted up at the ceiling, and you wonder if he slept, and why he was not in bed with you. You had invited him several times, and wished he would fulfill the request.

As soon as you sit up in bed, his head lifts, and he stands at attention.

You yawn before speaking, “Were you resting?” You ask, stretching your arms over your head. He shakes his head in response. “What were you doing?” You ask, your arms coming down to rest on your mattress.

“Listening?”

“For?”

He shrugs, “The birds at first, but then it was footsteps. I didn’t want to get caught waiting for you to wake up.” He sighs.

“Well… I wish you would have listened in bed with me.” You glance over at the empty spot next to you. He doesn’t respond, and you are reminded that in many ways, he is still the silent knight you first met from three weeks ago. Din walks over to you, and you smile as he does.

“Did I wake you last night?” He asks, and you were honestly confused about what he was asking. He sensed the confusion, he was always so good at reading you, “When I carried you from the library here?”

“What?” And then you remembered, your eyes blowing wide. “Shit!” You jump out of bed. “What time is it?”

“Uh…”

“Is the rest of the staff awake?” You let your hair down, and slide on the pink satin slippers on the floor of your bed.

“What?”

“Did you bring the map I was studying?” You look up at his emotionless helmet.

“…No?” To be truthful, he didn’t even take the time to glance at the map you studied, he was far too distracted by you.

“Fuck.” You muttered. Din liked it when you swore.

You thought of nothing, and hurried to the door of your suite, swinging it open and marching down the corridor. Din follows you in confusion, trying to catch up to you and bring you back to your room. You’re weary, and just woke up, so you pay no attention to Soniee who passes you in the hallway with your tea, looking at you in confusion, or the maids who were trying to sweep the floor that you scurried over. Din tried to halt you, but was never one to speak unless spoken to, especially not in public and in the presence of others, and felt unable to stop you and ask what was going on. Everyone turned heads to see the future consort in a panic, and were left with questions. Most of them shrugged and ignored it, a few began the rumors.

You practically ran down the stairs, feeling a little out of breath when you finally made it to the doors of the library. The fact that they were closed was still a good sign, and you swing the heavy door open, entering the library with haste. Your heart drops when you see the last person you wanted to this morning: Prince Korkie.

He turns to see the commotion, his eyes are shocked to not only see you out and about this early in the day, but also in your nightgown. He sputters on a ‘Good Morning’, and you don’t even hear it because you’re too panicked to see that he has the map you were reading last night in his hands. You swear in your mind, and your heart falls out of your feet. Din comes hurrying behind you.

“Princess? What is the meaning of this?” He asks, an eyebrow raised, trying to sound chipper as he greeted his fiance. You swallow thickly. Din bows for the prince, and then bends down to whisper in your ear so Korkie can’t hear it.

“Highness, please come back to your room.”

“What? Why?” You say a little too loudly, and before he can reply, the door is opening again with General Vizsla and a group of knights entering.

“Y-your gown.” Din whispers, and you look down to see that it is very sheer, far too sheer to be in the presence of your fiance… and half of the Mandalorian government. You want to shrink from the embarrassment, and notice that Korkie’s eyes are fixed on your chest. What a creep. You fold your arms over your breasts.

“What map do you have there, Prince Korkie?” You ask, trying not to make it seem too obvious that you were clearly in distress, but shaken up by your exposure and the perverted ness of the prince before you. Din wondered what in the world could be so important about that specific map. He stands behind you to cover your back side.

“What is this commotion?” Vizsla asks, interrupting your conversation.

“Nothing, General.” Korkie clears his throat. He turns to you, “Vizsla and I were just about to discuss the plans we have for… the southern border of Corellia.” Korkie awkwardly smiles. You raise an eyebrow.

“Plans?” You ask.

“Yes, you will hear in time.” Vizsla’s obnoxiously nasally voice busts in again. He was always one to unwelcomely invite himself.

You try not to roll your eyes, “And the map, Your Highness?” You repeat yourself, trying not to sound too demanding. You were still a princess, after all.

Korkie nervously chuckles, eyeing the multiple men in the room and shocked by your ambition. He takes a step forward, rolling the map up in his hands as he advances in you and Din’s direction. Din placed a discreet hand on the small of your back, hoping to reassure you. His touch was barely noticeable, but it was enough.

“Princess,” He says, sort of hushed. “You can call me Korkie in front of other people.” It was clear that he had an expectation to fill, and it would be bad on him if his fiance was still addressing him with a title a week before the wedding.

You scoff, “No, I don’t think I will.”

You hold your hand out for the map in defiance, but the prince doesn't hand it to you. He has a dark look in his eyes, one you have never seen before. Din tries to pull back on your bicep, trying to alleviate the situation, but you stay steadfast. “I will take that map now, Your highness.” You bite through the title, wanting it to cut. Korkie lifts his chin with an authoritative look, putting the rolled up map behind his back.

“Get this woman out of my meeting!” He calls out, and turns away. Your face drops, thinking you had the upper-hand, but realize that is taken away from you as two muscular guards pick you up, pulling you away from Din, and walking you out of the library. Korkie always does this, he’s madly in love with you until he’s not. It makes you remember that all of this is probably a ruse for power. Your heart and spirit drop, and you feel nothing but pure disrespect and rage. Din quickly follows. You try to writhe out of the guard’s grasp, not wanting to give up without a fight, but failing miserably. They were both very strong, probably because they had to compensate for how scrawny the Prince is.

“I can take it from here, gentlemen.” Din says, loudly, louder than you usually hear him speak. “I said I can take her!” Din yells when they don’t respond. Then, you hear the indefinite sound of a punch. These guards were still fully armored, but there was no withstanding the strength and brute force of your Knight when you were endangered. The guard Din had punched lets you go as a reaction, and you use it as an opportunity to take your now free hand and twist the wrist of the other guard off of you. All of the self-defense Din had previously taught you paid off in that moment as he yelled out in pain, not expecting your strength or skill. You were taught by the best, after all.

Now that you were free from the clutches of Korkie’s personal guards, you felt Din grab your hand and pull you. The two of you ran through the corridors, down another flight of stairs, and passed the throne room, making sure not to look back in the direction of the library. You ran parallel to the ballroom, and then finally down a final flight of stairs to the foyer of the castle. Din tugs you into a narrow hall, and down a spiral staircase. It was the way to the staff quarters, you remember from the day you went to the ocean. You were shocked and confused about what happened, and truthfully kind of exhausted. You were relieved when Din finally slowed down, and pulled you into Koska’s sister’s room. It was empty, thank the Stars.

“Close your eyes.”

“What?”

“Close them!” Din says and it startles you, but you do it. He pulls his helmet off with haste, tossing it to the floor with a clang. Din places both of his strong hands on either side of your face, pulling you towards him and then kisses you with so much force and hunger that you stumble back in surprise, your eyes cracking open for just a split second. You didn’t see much, because his face was so squished into yours. All you caught a glimpse of was his eyelashes for a millisecond, but that was enough. Din is pushing you against the wall, pinning you to it, and kissing you so hard that you have to pull away to get some air. “I don’t think I have ever been as attracted to you as I was when you stood up to that prick.” He chuckles, and you hum back. Din takes a deep breath before speaking up again, “What was on that map?” He asks, out of breath, too.

You sigh, sort of embarrassed, eyes still shut tightly, “It was the tunnel plans of the castle.”

“What, you mean the blueprints?”

“Yes.” Your eyes stay closed.

“The blueprints that are at least three-hundred years old?”

“Mhm.”

“How did you get your royal hands on those?” Din asks, baffled.

“It doesn’t matter! What does matter is that I made notes on the back of the map!” You blurt, feeling shame, “I wrote the estimated times it would take and which halls to take from my room!” You groan, so badly wanting to open your eyes. You remembered what you said to yourself all those weeks ago, however, reminding yourself that it should be his choice to show you his face and no one else’s. You sigh, “The Prince isn’t stupid! I’m sure he thinks I’m plotting something now!” You hope you don’t sound too panicked, but if you were being honest, you were. Din sighs, clearly frustrated, although you weren’t sure if he was sexually or emotionally… or a little bit of both. “I’m sorry.” You sigh, your hands coming up and searching for his shoulders. “I should not have been so careless.”

“No, you shouldn’t have.” You weren’t expecting him to agree with you, he usually doesn’t. He takes a calming breath, “…Are you plotting something?” He asks, his eyes moving between your closed eyelids in search of a non-verbal answer that he’ll never receive.

You don’t want to answer, but know you don’t have a choice. “Yes.” You feel guilty after saying it, although you aren’t sure why. Din exhales deeply this time. “But listen! We could run! I don’t have to stay here! We can fix this! We can get into Coruscant and they’ll never come looking for us, and then we can go to Nevarro, go to your home! We’ll take your son-“

“Rue.”

“What?”

“My son, his name is Rue.”

Rue. It was simple, to the point, just like Din’s. You liked it. “We’ll take Rue! Please, Din, we need to! It will be the only way we will ever be happy!” Your thumbs rub into the thick skin of his neck. You didn’t mean to vomit so much information on him at once, but he didn’t really give you an option.

He exhales deeply, and you know he’s processing everything you just told him. “We can’t”

“Why not?”

“Because!” He yells and it scares you. You drop your hands, your heart rate rising. A lump grows in your throat and you silently curse your emotions for betraying you. You swallow back a tear. He walks away from you and you hear the helmet pick up from off the floor. He puts it back on his head, and you know from practice and instinct when to open your eyes. When you do, he’s sitting on the chest at the end of the bed, his head dropped and hands pressed to the edge of the wood by his sides. You frown, and walk over to him. Din pushes his head into your abdomen, and you hold him there, just existing in not-so-comfortable silence. It’s tense, and not the type of tension that you usually like to experience with I’m.

He’s surprisingly the one to speak up, however. “We can’t… because Bo will hunt me and kill me and Rue and you… she’ll kill everything I love.” His voice cracks at the same time your heart does. Did he actually…

“Not to mention the war between our kingdoms it will start. Corellia can’t support itself in a war. We both know that.” Din sighs, maybe he was telling himself this just as much as he was telling you.

You sigh. He was right and you knew it, but it didn’t keep you from wanting to run away with him any less. “Din…” He looks up at you. “We have to get that map from Korkie.” You say, more stern but still comforting this time. His head tilts in question. You sigh, feeling guilty. “I wrote something else on it.” You look away from him, your eyes trailing. His hand reaches up to grab your chin, pulling your head to look right at him. Your eyebrows furrow. “Directions to your home.” The atmosphere in the room changes. You can feel it. “I know I shouldn’t have, I know it puts Rue in danger, but it gives us all the more reason to get that map back from Korkie as soon as possible.” His hand drops from your chin. You felt terrible.

“Okay, okay. We can check the library again and… if it’s not there we’ll go confront him. We’ll get it tonight.” He nods.

“Are you sure? What if he reads it?” You were surprised how lax he was, but something told you that he was controlling himself from his true emotions.

“As far as I’m concerned, the Prince has no reason to cause me or my family any harm.” He nods.

“Not yet.”

—

You swallow, your face inches away from the door of the Prince’s bedroom. Din was around the corner of the corridor, both of you knew this was something you would have to do on your own, without his support. You had never been here before, and after ample search in the library for the map all afternoon, there was no other option. It was late, but not inappropriately late. You wore that same dress you wore weeks ago, the soft blue one that was off the shoulder one that adorned your figure elegantly. It was one of the most sophisticated gowns in your closet. More mature than most of the flowy princess ballgowns. It was a diplomatic but still ethereal fashion choice, which you desperately needed after a humiliating encounter this morning. The scar on your shoulder from the endeavor in Keldabe had mostly healed, and only had a pale pink to it. You looked back at Din, who was peering around the corner, for some reassurance. He nodded, and you took a deep breath. Two knocks would be enough. The door swings open, and you are suddenly very aware that you would have to brave this encounter without the support of your trusted Knight. Korkie is who answers the door, and he looks mildly unamused to see you.

“Princess?” He tilts his head.

“Evening, I hope it is not too late?” You suggest, keeping your voice as monotone and unwelcoming as possible. You wanted him to know that you were here for a serious matter.. You noticed he was covering the door with his body, perhaps he was hiding something from you too.

“For my fiance? Never.” You hated being called that, but if it was what it took for him to invite you into the room,you could deal with it. Korkie’s room was large, it was far more spacious than yours. It had a billowing fireplace and sitting area, the ceilings twice the height of your suite’s, and a private library pushed into the northeast corner. You familiarize yourself with your surroundings, and the heir closes the door behind you. You silently scanned the room for the map, you would have to snatch it up without it being suspicious, and you could not explicitly ask for it again. “What do I owe this honor?” He says from behind, charming as usual, although his words did seem a bit slurred. You see that an opened book sat on the seat of a chair in the sitting area. He must have been reading before you interrupted him. You turn around, and lift your chin, trying to look and sound as put together and unsuspecting as possible.

You clear your throat, “I wanted to apologize for this morning.” You nod. It wasn’t true, but you had rehearsed with Din several times the best way to stall time as you looked for the map, and this was the best way of going about. “It was inappropriate behavior, especially in front of the General.” You disagreed with your own words, and felt bad lying, but it came so naturally when done to the Prince.

Korkie sighs, and crosses over the room, looking up at a portrait above the fireplace. Your eyes still searched for your map, but had no clue where it might be. This was your first time here, after all. “Worry not, Highness.” Korkie downs a bit of brandy that was sitting for him. You didn’t like him when he was drunk.

“You’re sure?” You figured that would have made conversation more natural, but he clearly was not in the mood for propriety. He pours another drink, and even pours one for you, offering it. You shake your head and mutter a ‘no thank you’, not really wanting to get drunk tonight. Din wouldn’t touch you if you were drunk. You admired that he respected you that much, but it also deprived you of the one thing worth all the pomp and circumstance. Korkie shrugs and drinks both, and you’re frankly appalled by this conduct.

“Indeed.” He hiccups. “Everyone loves a little show.” He chuckles, and you frown. Was that all your humiliation was to him? A show? “Now, Princess,” He takes a step towards you, and you feel so unprotected. Din would have stepped in by now, you knew that. You didn’t have the same sense of security you usually had when he wasn’t at your side. “Why did you really come here?” He asks, running his hand through his hair.

“Excuse me?” You nervously laugh. How did he figure any of this out? You take steps back that mirror his, trying to keep the same amount of distance between him and you but struggling to when you hit the post of his bed, your back flush against it. Your hands wrap around the wood working, and you look up at him nervously. You felt the same as you didn’t when you were cornered and harassed in the slum of Keldabe. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You clear your throat, trying to solve something, anything. Where could that cursed map be?

“Don’t-“ He says through gritted teeth, he catches himself from lashing out, and collects his composure before speaking again. “Don’t assume I am blind.”

“I would never-“

“Liar!” He spits out and you flinch back. He laughs a few times, it’s that evil, frustrated laugh. It was the type of laugh that people do when they’re trying to calm themselves down, but in turn they simply seem more angry. You were genuinely scared, unsure of what to do in this situation. “What were the directions you wrote on the back of the map?” He asks, and you furrow your brows.

“I don’t know what you mean?” This was partially true. How did he not understand the very neat and clear directions on the back of the blueprints to the secret passages? And in all curiosity, why did he care?

Korkie grunts again. “You are foolish.” He was dangerously close to you, and you wanted to get out of that room as soon as possible. You wanted Din to come protect you, you needed him to. “Are you forgetting who you belong to?” His hand sets on your hip, and you flinch again.

“I belong to no one.” You defy.

“You belong to me.” He grits his jaw again. You closed your eyes out of instinct due to the sheer anger and tension in his tone. His breath smelled of alcohol, and you wished you had the authority to slap him. He laughs his chuckle of malice again, and then before you can blink, he leans in for a kiss. How could he? How could he take advantage of your vulnerable state like this? Your blood boiled, and just in time, you dodge his lips. You swoop under his arm, away from the bedpost and back to the security of a full room you can avoid him in. He looks at you, clearly appalled. You were dizzy, probably from adrenaline. You wished this was surprising, but it was the exact thing you expected The Prince to do. This is when you noticed the map was rolled up and on the floor beside the fireplace. The new perspective of the room is what made you see it. Had he intended to burn it?

“You know,” You say as you take a step towards the map, “You should have another drink.” You offer. “You’re clearly tense,” You stepped between each phrase, “And it would be better for everyone.” Somewhere deep down you wanted to believe that Korkie was only acting this way because he was drunk. But you knew it wasn’t true. You realized that everything inside of you was looking for a redeemable quality in him, a reason to stay perhaps. You wanted to believe he was worth staying for, but you knew that he wasn’t, not when everything you’ve ever wanted was just outside the door.

Before Korkie can take another step towards you, you’re bolting towards the map, snatching it up in your hands and then running towards the door. The adrenaline shoots through your veins, and it only grows when you hear him growl again and his heavy footsteps run after you. You have to physically hold yourself back from squealing in stress, your hand slapping over your mouth. You rip the door open, and try slamming it behind you, but Korkie’s arm is caught in the door, and you smash it. He cries out, and the commotion makes Din run down the hall towards you to check what was going on. Korkie was able to get a hand on the collar of your dress, and he tries to pull you back in, but your strength is enough to get away. You ran to Din, who looked concerned, you could tell by his stance alone. He was tense and his hands balled in fists at his side.

Korkie pulls open the door, holding his arm to his chest, and you look back, your heart racing. You are so relieved when you make it to Din, and you grab his hand, threading your fingers into his and pulling him down the hall in the same fashion he did early that day. Several guards who heard the heir’s yell were running in all directions, but none of them paid any attention to you, thank the stars.

You think you are crying, but you aren’t sure. You felt raw fear being alone with the Prince. You never wanted to be alone with him again, never.

You keep running nonsense in the castle, not really sure where you’re going but wanting to be anywhere other than there. Din is the one to stop you after the mindless escape, pulling you into a branching hallway and against an unsightly window. He grabs both of your arms, and pulls you flush against his chest. He holds you there for a long time, and you both get a chance to catch your breath. You cry into the beskar chestplate, and feel rather foolish for reacting as such. Din was silent, and just held you, his strong arms wrapped around you as tightly as they could be.

“What did he do to you?” He asks, and you sigh out pathetically. Din repeats his question, still calm and gentle, but more urgent.

“I-I was so scared.” You stutter. Din somehow squeezes you tighter after you say this. After you collect yourself a little more, you can speak again, “he was drink-“

“Did he… touch you?”

You weren’t sure why you felt like you were in trouble, but aggressively reminded yourself that Din would never be upset with you, at least not for something like this. “Yes… But not very much, he just touched my hip and leaned in to kiss me.”

“Did he?”

“No!” You say almost defensively, “I got away just in time.” You pull away and look up at him with teary eyes. His hand comes up, and he pulls the glove off. His bar hand caresses your flushed face, swiping a tear off your cheek with his thumb. “I’m sorry-“

“Why?”

“I don’t know!” You breathe out shakily. “For crying I guess? For letting the map get away? For letting him touch me-“ You try to look away but his fingers catch your chin again, pulling your gaze back onto his helmet.

“Stop that. It’s not your fault. He is disgusting for doing that.” Din nods, and you swallow a sob. “Do you understand?” He asks, and you slowly nod once. “And promise me, that you’ll never ever blame yourself for anything like that ever again, okay?” You nod again. “Promise me!” He wasn’t angry or forceful, just steadfast with his words. He meant what he was saying.

“I promise.” You mutter. After you reply you hear his exhale in his armor. He pulls you against his chest again, and you can feel it move with each breath. You wished you could hear his heartbeat again like you could when you wake up next to him. You’re able to finally relax, and his embrace was the most calming thing you had ever experienced.

“I was worried sick about you.” He says, far more soft spoken than his remarks before. You didn’t verbally reply, but he was able to read how you felt. “I don’t like you being alone with him.”

“Me neither.” You sigh, squeezing your eyes shut and letting the final few tears fall out of your lashes. “All the more reason to leave.” He tenses after you say it, and his arms loosen a bit around your shoulders.

“You really want to?” He asks, you nod against his chest. “You know the possible consequences? This could mean the destruction of Corellia.”

“I know. That’s why it’s so hard. I don’t know what to do. I know what I want, and that is to leave here with you, but I don’t want my own selfishness to risk the lives of thousands who I vowed to protect.” You pull your head away from his chest.

“You… really want to live a life with me?” He asks, almost oblivious to your prior remark. You nod nod, or even say yes, but you just look up at him in all seriousness, hoping it would be enough.

It was.

“You don’t even know what I look like.” His arms drop. Did he think you a fool for that?

“We…” You debate your words, “We can change that.” You close your eyes, hoping that it would mean something to him, and maybe it did, but just as always, he didn’t show it. He just takes his cursed, gloveless hand and tilts your chin up to see him.

“In time we will, but only when it is right.” He nods.

It wasn’t the answer you wanted, but it was enough. It was more than anything he had ever given you before.

“Come on,” Din says gently, “There’s something I want to show you.” He beckons with his head down the hall, and you follow, interlocking your fingers with his again, the map in your other hand. You weren’t really sure how he was able to be so calm and reassuring, especially without showing an ounce of emotion through all of it, but it was a Godsend. You weren’t sure if Din loved you, at least not in the same way you loved him, but you were sure that he cared about you, and he wanted you to be safe and happy. And that was all you needed, for now.

“Had he read the map?” Din asks as you walk down a flight of stairs, descending the various levels of the palace and undoubtedly heading for the staff quarters again.

“I believe so.” You sigh, “Although he seemed confused about it. I think he was a little too drunk to fully comprehend, or he was giving me the benefit of the doubt.” You shrug.

“Well, at least we have it now, right?” Din asks, his head slightly turning back to look at you as he says it, and you give a nervous but relieved smile in response. The two of you loop through halls, and you’re very aware of how much the castle is winding down. Staff have retired for the night, doors were closed, even the usual laughter coming from parlors or the ballroom was silenced. Was it really that late? You didn’t really have much of a perception of time anymore after everything that had just happened.

The one part of the castle that was full of life, however, was the staff quarters. As you got closer, you could hear the usual laughter, and warm, welcoming light poured from the low corridor. Music played, it was loud, and your eyes searched for the spectacle that was just awaiting you.

“You said you wanted to get to know the staff better…”

“I did?” You ask.

“A few nights ago, you were really tired, you might not remember.” He shrugged. You didn’t really care whether or not you really said those things, what stuck out to you, however was that Din remembered that. He was observant enough to remember specific phrases you said, and not any phrases, the ones that were sleepy and probably full of nonsense. You would lie if you said you didn’t gush over that a little.

Din takes you into the staff common room, and it’s all clear. The warm smells, the enticing light, the infectious laughter, it all came from the whole castle staff crammed into this one room. There was food, and everyone laughed and danced to the music that a handful of staff members played. Their instruments were humble, probably retired from the royal orchestra years ago, but you could tell there were fond memories and stories linked with every single one. It was hot, and there were a lot of people crammed into the room. The doors were wide open, and the tables were pushed back against the walls so that the floor could be opened to a large and intricate group dance. It was nothing like the pompous dances that the nobility did at the ball, however. This dance was filled with joy, and mistakes were not only welcomed, but celebrated. Expression was the center of the party, and all types of people were involved. Children who were up far past their bedtime joined in the festivities, dancing and laughing and chasing one another, elderly staff sat at the tables, clapping along to the folk music, and the servants who usually give you sour tea and hot bread had their shoes off, jumping on the stone floor of the common area. Some of the knights and guards had their helmets on like Din usually did, and others did not. You realized it really probably boiled down to personal preference, or duty.

You smiled at the spectacle, and it gave you a deep and undeniable sense of community and love. You quickly learned that the livelihood of the castle did not rest in the parties and rules that an uptight Queen set in place, but the very people who made the castle work smoothly.

The laughter and joy was contagious, and you couldn’t stop yourself from joining the fun. You jump into the dance, not sure of the steps, but picking up your ridiculous skirt and starting anyways. You hoped it wasn’t obvious that you had been crying a half hour before, but no one paid any attention if it was. The women in the circle linked their arms with yours, and you spun in a circle. The one to your right couldn’t have been older than fifteen, and she yelled over the noise how to do the footsteps. You couldn’t really hear her, but looked down at her feet and tried to mimic it. You had the cheesiest smile on your face, and the room spun as you danced. Din crosses over to a wall, leaning against it and crossing his arms, watching you.

After that dance finished, another song started, and the moves were rather different. However, a girl pulled you out of the circle, and tugged on your dress. “It’s too big!” She shouts over the music, “You’ll never make it through the next song!” You nod and then walk over to a table. You stand on top of the table after a few jumbled ‘excuse me’s’. You were sure everyone recognized you, but they didn’t treat you differently for one moment. It was… refreshing. You kicked your shoes off, and several people turned to look at you, some cheered, others laughed. You then bite your bottom lip and pull the strings of the corset you wore, loosening it enough to slip out of your crinoline and ruffled-slip, leaving you in nothing but your undergarment petticoat and the top layer of the gown you were wearing. There was laughter, and you didn’t hear or see Din chuckle. You swayed your hips, and after a playful “huzzah!” from the crowd, a few knights helped you off the table. You immediately return to the dance circle, and you’re able to move much easier. You’re thrown back into the stimulating dance. The woman was right, this was much more physical, jumping and kicking was done and it was far more exciting than any of the proper waltzes you had spent your life dedicating time to.

You step out after two more songs, trying to catch your breath and wiping the sweat off your brow. There was alcohol, just hooch, but a bearded man gave you a big mug and you happily chugged it down. Din was impressed with your ability to consume so much so quickly. The men all cheered and hollered as you downed the drink, also impressed with the skill. You didn’t know you could do it, either.

A game of cards is being played, and you’re roped into that, too. You bet some money (money you didn’t have) and helped a tired, old man who usually worked in the stables play, after a few tough rounds, and struggling to learn the rules as you played, you won the pot for the old man. Three other much younger boys who usually worked at the front gate looked in shock as you pulled the money towards you and the man. He laughed and thanked you for your help.

Some little girls examined your crinoline and corset, a few older women all pinched your cheeks, and a fat man gave you a huge helping of mashed potatoes and greens. You got to overeat shamelessly, and it felt so rewarding after weeks of eating like a bird in fear of being judged by your in-laws. It was the most wonderful feeling in the world to be treated normally. You caught a glimpse of Soniee, who braided a boy’s hair. You even noticed that Koska was there, the center of one of the dance circles, swaying her skirt to the beat with another girl, the two dancing together in a vibrant duet of culture and community. Your feet only began to hurt when you were pulled to dance again, and your cheeks ached from smiling so wide. It was the most alive and accepted you had ever felt in Mandalore.

At one point, you found yourself just a few feet away from Din in the dance. You hold your hands out for him, beckoning him to join. “Dance with me!” You shout out. Before you get an answer, however, you're pulled back into the center of the group. It isn’t for a few more cycles and bars of the song that you’re back out by him. “Please?” You try to be as enticing as possible. He shakes his head, his hand coming up to decline. You raise an eyebrow.

“I don’t dance!” He yells back. You roll your eyes and step out of the group momentarily. You grab both of his hands, your face with the cheesiest smile ever, and pull him onto the floor. He tries to fight back, but ultimately loses.

“Yes you do!” You reply, yelling as loud as possible so he might be able to hear you. “You proved it to me last week!” You say and in perfect time, your arms go up together with the beat of the song. He hadn’t done this dance before, but has watched it enough times to know what’s going on, although he looked rather awkward and foolish doing so. You grab his hand, your hips turning left to right in time, and you look down at your bodies, trying to show him as best as you can.

“I have no idea what’s going on!” Din yells at one point, the two of you now in the heart of the party.

“Me neither!” You laugh, “That’s what’s so wonderful about it!” Then came the part of the dance to clap your hands, the two of you clapping up by your face, and mirroring one another. “Now you’re getting the hang of it!” You nod. He rolls his eyes, and is thankful you can’t see it. It would be horrible for his reputation if anyone knew that he was having even a little fun, especially because it was with you. Din doesn’t usually come to these parties. They happen most Saturday nights, but he runs home to his son. Tonight, however, it was important to him that you got to experience it, especially after everything that happened earlier today.

You both start getting the hang of it, and Din mentally thanks his helmet for hiding the smile on his face. Your feet grapevine, and then you both jump. Everyone hoots and hollers, it’s part of the dance. Suddenly, the both of you are in the middle of the dance circle in the same way that Koska was with her partner a few songs ago, and you’re leading the spiral. You can’t wipe the darkish smile off your face and genuinely can’t believe you got him out here.

“Atta boy, Djarin!” Koska yells from a table, standing up and toasting a Ming of hooch. The music picked up in preparation for the big finish. Din and you spun around one another, your bodies coming flush until your palms press flat, your faces only inches apart. You always thought playing off of one another in a dance was important for the emotion during a waltz, but a fancy three-step had nothing on the emotion and passion put into a dance such as this. Somehow, you could still play off of him, and the performance was one of shared respect and assurance. Despite never having seen his face, you got the Knight, you understood him in a way no one ever did. The song ends, the two of you real close to one another, and out of breath. The entire room roared in joy as they cheered for the both of you, and you looked up at the visor of his helmet.

“I want to kiss you!” He yells, and although his request is very clear, no one can hear it over the volume of the room.

“Then kiss me!” You reply. You didn’t give a damn if every servant of the Mandalorian royal family saw it. He laughs, you feel it, and then he’s pulling his helmet up.

He just reveals his lips, but you look upon them with no shame, admiring the way his Cupid’s bow dipped, and the scruff on his jawline. You smiled wide, and he smiled back. You feel honored to share this moment with him. Everyone around you was so loud, and they were cheering for both you and Din. You couldn’t believe how many of them knew his name as they called it out in encouragement.

Din’s free hand wraps around your waist, and pulls it in tight to him forcefully, you blush at the gesture, and the crowd “ooh’s” flirtily at it. Din Djarin then kisses you. He pulls your body into his soft lips and you sigh into it and it;s too quiet for him to hear but as soon as your lips meet, the crowd of staff disappears. Their cheers blur together, and fade out. Your lips move together passionately, and you do so with no shame. He groans against you, and you can feel it more than you can hear it, and it’s all you ever wanted.

For weeks now you just wanted to share your love with him publicly, and now that you have, you’re aware of how personal your love with him really is.

The crowd fades back in, everyone laughing in support and amusement. Your lips softly party and you grin from ear to ear. Din does too, shameless for once. His teeth are nice and straight. Oh God, you loved his smile.

Oh Stars, you loved him.

“Din!” You yell out. “I love you!” It was time to say it, because it was true. You meant it and as you say it, giggle.

“What?”

“I love you!” It’s so loud that you’re even sure if he can’t hear it, you can barely hear it yourself. But, in classic Din Djarin fashion, he doesn’t answer. He was never good with words, and was much better at showing you what was on his mind. He kisses you again, just as passionately, but this time it’s a series of short, quick pecks on your lips that get progressively more sloppy. He smiles into each kiss and you feel those magic butterflies again.

The rest of the night is a dreamy blur, Din dances the whole time with you, the music eventually slows, you notice that there are less and less kids in the common room. It winds down, and your feet ache in the best way. An ache that would be associated with happy memories. It was long past midnight when you decided to stop dancing, and a lone fiddler is all who was left in the band, playing a ballad to end the night. There was still soft laughter, and a few stragglers who slowly danced to the music. Din was one of the few who were still playing cards, one of his fellow knights challenging him to a game. Din was always up for a challenge, and both he and the man he played against looked deep in thought. You realized you were finally able to read him through all that beskar, and he was far more reactive than you ever would have known if you weren’t looking for it. Your cheek sits in your palm, and your eyes are heavy, but you watch him fondly from across the room. Koska sits next to you, handing you a cup of water.

“You had fun.” She hums, taking a sip out of her own cup.

You nervously laugh in response, she wasn’t wrong. “I didn’t realize how connected you all were.” You say with a sigh before taking a sip of the water and being so relieved to finally get some hydration after all of the energy you exerted.

“Yeah…” Koska was in her typical undisturbed mood, relaxed and observant. “These are the people of Mandalore.” She sighs, “They are what we really represent. We aren’t all about war and decoration, there’s so much more to us that the world doesn’t see.” You were touched by that remark, because you had seen it too. “The truth that’s hard for all of us to believe is that the rest of the world only respects us to stay on our good side.” Her voice drops a little. She looks at you, her eyes heavy as always. You aren’t sure how to respond, because it was true. Koska takes another sip before changing the subject, “I’ve never seen him dance before.” She nods towards Din. “At least not like that.” She laughs into her cup.

You smile, “I didn’t think he had it in him.” You tease.

“He wouldn’t have if you weren’t there.” Koska shrugs. “He’s like a whole different person around you. It’s refreshing.”

“He told me about everything that happened.” You reply. “With him and Bo.”

“He did? I don’t think he’s really talked to anyone about it.”

“He just told me last week, after the ball.” You nod. “I had no idea… but it all makes sense in the end.” You finish off the last of your water as his card game finishes, the few people watching cheering as Din lays down his cards and wins. The other knight, whose face was also covered by a heavy, beskar helmet slammed his fist down on the table in defeat. Din took the money that was on the bet.

“He’s better because of you.” Koska says, smiling as he wins. “I’ve had to look out for him in a way for a long time, he’s one of my oldest friends.” She speaks of him fondly. “But I feel like he doesn’t need me as much anymore, now that you can keep an eye out for him.” Koska turns to look a t you, but you don’t notice it. “You love him?”

“I do.” You nod. “Well… I think I do.” You sigh, “I don’t really know what love is I suppose, but I believe how I feel about him is the closest thing to it.” You shrug. “And I’m totally fucked because of it.”

“I wouldn’t know.” Koska explains, “I’ve never been in love either.”

“Really?” You ask, mildly shocked in all honesty. Koska nods. “There’s no one special in your life?”

“Well, there’s one girl.” Koska begins, “But my feelings towards her are more of an… obligation, I suppose.”

“I used to worry that’s how Din felt about me.” You admit.

“Oh trust me,” She chuckles once, “It isn’t like that for him at all.” She hums and you sigh in response, you sit in comfortable silence for a moment after that before Koska speaks up again, “What are you gonna do?” She asks.

“I don’t know.” You admit, turning to look at her, “But now that the majority of the castle staff has seen us kiss, I need to think of something.”

“That was pretty stupid, by the way.” Koska rolls her eyes.

You chuckle, “I suppose it was…” Din starts walking back to you, “But I can’t seem to care. I’m sick of hiding from everyone.” Din makes it to the two of you, and you smile as you look up at him.

“It’s not much,” He holds out the money before pocketing it, “But Rue will be happy.” He laughs and holds a hand out for you to take. “How drunk is she?” He asks Koska.

“She’s fine-“

“I only had one drink!” You roll your eyes, knowing that your night with Din will end very quickly if you were drunk. You take his hand and he hoists you up with him.

“Hm… that’s what you said the other night.”

“She’s okay, maybe a little tipsy but nothing keeping her from holding a perfectly normal conversation.” Koska says to Din, knowing full well why he even asked, a smirk plasters on her face.

“Come on.” Din hums, and pulls you down one of the various halls that branch from the common room, but not the one that both of you were familiar with because of your aid from Koska.

Din leads you through the candle-lit halls, and into a small bedroom. It was cramped, and there was barely enough room for the both of you, but it was cozy. He lit an oil lamp, and it illuminated the room just enough. Din slowly pulls off his helmet, and it’s so dim that you can’t really see anything like normal, but you can make out faint features and the light in his eyes. It was enough. He started to take off his armor too, and you patiently waited with your back against the outerwall that the window was in. He sets the chestplate and pauldrons in a neat pile on the foot of the bed, and kicks his boots off. His arm comes up to rub his neck, and he stretches a few times. He pulls the chainmail up over his head, leaving him in the same peasant blouse and trousers that he wore at the beach all those days ago. You would never get used to how trim his waist was, and how broad his shoulders were. He turns around, and has a smile on his face. You wished you could see him in the light. Din runs his hands through his thick curls and then steps towards you. You close the gap and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in for an innocent kiss.

“Thank you.” You mutter.

“What for?”

“For bringing me here tonight… for being with me.” You sigh, and look up at him lovingly. He sighs, and kisses you again. Din starts to deepen the kiss, and you moan into his lips. He was a good kisser, that was for sure.

[SMUT BEGINS HERE]

Din wastes no time, he picks you up by the thighs, lifting you on his waist so you’re kissing down into him, and before you know it, he’s kissing your jaw. Din had learned your body, he knew the sweet spot on your jaw, and always knew just how long he could suck on it before it became a hickey. He never crossed that line, he knew when to stop, but how badly you wanted him to mark you up so Korkie could see, you wanted everyone to see who you loved and why. His strong hands bunch up your skirt, and lift it up so your ass could be uncovered. His arms hold you, and he stumbles back until he falls on the bed in the room. You straddle the knight and get comfortable on his lap. You can feel his hard-on growing, and you’ll never get over the confidence boost that gives you. You start to tentatively rub your hips so that you grinned down into him. You get a sting of pleasure through your spine, and you’re already getting wet. Because you were down in the lower level of the palace, and was totally isolated from most people with thick, stone walls, you take advantage of the opportunity to make noise. You moan into Din’s mouth, and he holds his lips apart for you. His breath against your face was enough alone to drive you crazy, and your fingers twist around the strands of curly, brown hair that sit at the nape of his neck.

Din’s thick, calloused fingers find their way between your legs from the back, and he starts to gently run his fingertips through your slick folds. You gasp at the feeling, he was so gentle with every move. He starts to moan as well as your hips grind further into him in search for more friction and pleasure, and the sound of his voice unobstructed by the beskar is your favorite sound in the whole world. Din settles into his seat, and he pulls you forward onto him. This allows your hips to lift up just enough that he can insert a finger through your cunt. He starts pumping his wrist immediately, fingering you. You pulled your lips away from him, and sat up straight. You throw your head back with a moan, and then bring your hands to the tucked in portion of your shirt. You pull it up over your head, and wriggle out of the slip that kept you clothed. You were finally naked, and you took your free hands and squeezed each nipple. Between the feeling of Din’s fingers deep inside of you, his growing-bulge rutting against your clit, and the added pinch of your nipples, you were already in a euphoric bliss that didn’t take long to reach.

“Din-“ you moan his name, which he loved. He’s eager, and isn’t afraid to show it. Din pulls his cock out from his trousers, and he lets you grind against the tip. You keep it from going in, trying to tease him in the same way that he did the morning after the ball. It was really just driving you over the edge, really, and so before you let his swollen tip prod at your slickness anymore, you steady yourself on his broad shoulders, and take a deep breath before sinking down onto him. Both of you moan out when you do, and he throws his head back, exposing a thick cord of muscle in his neck. You bend down to nip at his adam’s apple before suckling into his tan skin, making sure to leave a massive, purple bruise on the middle of his neck. You bottom out as you do this, and the sensation shoots up your body. You liked being on top for the sheer fact that it gave you a different angle. Din’s length was pressing up into you now, and he filled you up delightfully. Your favorite feeling in the world was being stuffed by him like this.

You could feel every inch of him as you lifted your hips up, you were so wet and it was already such a loud, obscene noise. You kept sucking hickeys into him, and your hands moved from his neck down to the hem of his blouse. You grab the sheer fabric, and pull it up over his head so that Din is finally as shirtless as you. His huge hands stay on your ass, squeezing the fat there and using his own strength to lift you up and down on his cock. It’s slow at first, but it allows the both of you to really savor the feeling of one another. You scratch your fingernails down his pecs, scratching at his abdomen, and then finally trailing in between your legs to circle at your clit as the pace picked up. You lean forward to rest your glistening forehead on his bare shoulder, and your bare chests press into one another.

Din begins to thrust his hips up, and before you know it, you’re bounding on his cock. It’s fast and hard and your weight is slamming you down on to him over and over again with no end in sight. It’s painful in a good way, the same type of ache that would have good memories and passion attached to it. You knew your core would be sore tomorrow, but it was worth it as Din’s huge cock runs against your g-spot over and over again inside of you. Your fingers speed up on your clit, and you bite down on Din’s shoulder muscle to keep from being too loud. He’s grunting and growling and is absolutely feral and the noises eliciting off of his kiss-swollen lips are needy yet dominate at the same time. You could get drunk on his breathy-sighs, his voice as dark and husky as always.

“That’s it,” He groans into your ear, you moan in response to his words. You loved when he was vocal because it was so rare that he actually was. “Are you gonna cum on my fucking cock, Princess?” He asks.

“Mhm.” You pathetically moan.

“Fuck-“ he groans, and then shifts his position. Suddenly, the two of you are standing up, and the way his length moves and twitches inside of you as he stands up pulls an involuntary moan from your lips. Din lifts you up with his arms, arching his torso back so that you can lean on him. He then gets right back at the task at hand: chasing your orgasm. It was close, you could feel it, and somehow Din seemed to have more energy and strength in this position. He lifted you up and down on his cock, and your arms found their place wrapped back around his neck, desperately trying to hold yourself up as he absolutely tears into you. He was so big, you keep forgetting how thick he is until his swollen and hard cock is filling you up like you were only made for this exact thing.

He must have gotten tired, you could tell not only by the sheen layer of sweat on his chest, but he pulled you off of himself, and threw you onto the bed. You giggle at the forceful contact, and like being tossed around in bed. It made you feel small, and it really showed his strength. Din pumps his leaking cock a few times, kneeling in front of you and pulling your legs apart. You bite your lip out of lust before he slaps the head of his length on your cunt a few times. The sound is so dirty, and it makes you even wetter.

“Stars, you’re so fucking wet for me.” He bites his lip, slapping his cock harder against you. “Can you hear that? Can you hear how fucking wet that pussy is?” He asks you. Stars, he was good at this.

“Yes… so wet for you.” You sigh, your hand coming down to play with your clit again. Din mutters a ‘that’s right’ before he slides himself through your folds a few times again before pushing into you one more, and he doesn’t hold back. His hands find their way to your hips, and he presses them down into the bed as hard as he can, pinning you in place. He starts to pound into you, and it knocks the wind out of you because of how abrupt and forceful it is. You can’t even really make noise to show how good it was, and instead a few strangled and helpless cries pull from your throat.

“Do you fantasize about my cock when you’re with your fiance? Hm? Does it turn you on knowing that you’re cheating on him?” He asks, and you can finally moan out. He was right, he knew you would say yes.

“Yes!” You say, “I can’t stop thinking about your cock!” You reply, your voice high-pitched and so needy.

“Do you think about me fucking this pussy like a bitch on my cock when you’re in important meetings?” He asks again. There was something about the disrespect that you loved, it only made things better.

“Yes sir!” You cry. Din chuckles and then smacks your ass cheek. His slamming into you so hard that you can’t believe he hasn’t gotten tired yet. You can see how his muscles flex against the moonlight and your core is aching from the knight but it’s all worth it. “I’m gonna cum!” You warm, arching your back in pleasure. Din then spits on your cut, adding to the hot wetness and dirty sounds, and he pulls your fingers away from your clit and replaces them with his.

“Cum with me,” He groans, and almost immediately, you’re cumming on his leaking cock at the same time that he does. He cums so much, and you’re always surprised by it. His load drips down your folds, and he fucks you through it. It’s filthy and you want to keep doing it for the rest of your life. Your arms come up to grasp his biceps, trying to steady yourself on anything. Din moans loud when he cums, and it isn’t until he starts softening inside of you that he quits thrusting. He doesn’t pull out, however, and he stays stuffed inside of you as he catches your breath. You’re fucked-out, your eyes heavy and breasts heaving with each deep breath that tries to calm your heart rate. “I love cumming in you.” He sighs. You already knew that, but you loved how he told you. He goes to pull out, but your thighs squeeze together, holding him in place.

“Stay inside.” You whine. Din tilts his head.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” He bends down to kiss your forehead, and then very carefully and slowly turns the two of you so that he is spooning you, his cock still buried inside your dripping and swollen cunt. “You did good, you did so good.” He kisses your neck as he says these, breathing in deep your scent. “S’good… so good.” He catches his breath, and is just as exhausted as you are, if not more. His chest heaves against your back, and his arms pull you against him. You fight against sleep, but ultimately fail, submitting to rest almost immediately after Din pulls the blanket over the both of you. Just before you fall asleep, you hear him mumble something against your neck, although you aren’t sure what it is.

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—

part fifteen

208 notes · View notes

alwaysachorusgirl · 3 years

Text

Of Wolves and Witches

Pairing: Werewolf!Bishop Losa x Witch!Reader

Word Count: 3088

For: covers the monster square for @adarafaelbarba 's moodboard fall bingo

TW: violence and accidental death via a nightmare/flashback sequence, brief mentions of mental, emotion, and physical abuse, PTSD, and covering up a crime scene

Author's Notes: The Mayans Werewolf AU that no one asked for, but i wrote it anyway. It starts out dark, but ends with fluff, I promise. This is my first time writing for Bishop, so please go easy on me... a big thank you to @itsjustmyfantasyroom for letting me run this idea by her and reassuring me that it wasn't crazy, and for encouraging me to write it.

Tags: @madamsnape921; @prurientpuddlejumper; @thatesqcrush; @welcometothemxdhouse; @raulesparza4eva; @teamsladsandgents; @rosequcrtz

He stormed into your living room, rage storming in his eyes. His aura was a swirling void of red and black. He shouldn’t have been able to break the locks on your front door, he shouldn’t have been able to walk right through your magical wards, but here he was. You straightened your posture and stood your ground, determined to not let him see how terrified you were.

“How did you get in here?”

“Really?” He pulled a glowing amulet from out of his shirt. “Not that hard when you have a little help. Benefits of having hunters for friends.”

Your eyes went wide as you realized what you were looking at. It was an enchanted amulet, one strong enough to get through your warding. You could only hope that it wasn’t strong enough to dampen your powers.

“Yeah, that’s right,” he smirked. “I know what you are. Makes me a wonder what else you haven’t been telling me.”

“Alex, get out! I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if I have to.”

“You little bitch!” he spat back. “You think you can just break up me? You think you can just walk away?

“I can and I did. We’re done, Alex, it’s over. You don’t get to hurt me anymore. It’s not my fault that your fragile, insecure male ego can’t take a fucking hint.”

“Bitch, I’ll fucking hurt you whenever I fucking want to! And I don’t see your little biker friends here to protect you.…”

Then he charged, and suddenly you were on the ground with his hands around your throat.

“Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live!”

You could feel the murderous intent radiating off him, and put your hands on his chest, trying to push him off you, but then you felt the release of kinetic energy through your palms, and Alex was flying across the room. He hit the wall, and you prayed to whatever goddess was listening that the sickening crack you heard was just the drywall breaking behind him. But then his eyes rolled back in his head, and his head lolled to one side, at what could only be described as an “unhealthy looking” angle. His lower body twitched a few times before going limp. He hung there for a moment, suspended in the air, pinned to the wall by your invisible force. Still shaking in terror, you finally lowered your hands, and Alex’s lifeless body fell to the ground with a thud.

*********************

“No!” you cried out, sitting bolt upright on your couch. You were covered in a cold sweat and your whole body was shaking. Your lungs gasped for air and your eyes darted around the room, searching for Alex, but he wasn’t there. You weren’t even in your old house anymore. You held your hand in your hands and took deep breaths. You were in your apartment, in Santo Padre, Alex was dead, and you were safe. The Saturday afternoon sun streamed in through the window, and the TV was still on, a marathon of Guy’s Grocery Games playing at a low volume.

“I must have fallen asleep,” you said softly to yourself, “it was only a nightmare.”

You grabbed your phone off the coffee table and checked the time. It was only 3:30, plenty of time to shower and freshen up before Bishop would pick you up at 6. You stood, and after checking your locks and wards, made your way to the bathroom.

***********************

Despite your best efforts to push them down, the memories of what happened next came flooding back as you stood under the warm shower spray. You had been in shock, understandably so, but you were now exposed as a witch, and had to protect yourself. The logical side of your brain kicked in and you got to work. After verifying that Alex was dead, you had used your telekinetic abilities to rip the amulet off his neck. A quick examination verified that it had only been enchanted enough to allow Alex to breach your magical wards without getting zapped, but not enough to block your own powers. The enchantment was also crude and amateurish, probably done in haste by someone with limited knowledge of witchcraft. He had mentioned having hunters for friends, and you cursed yourself for not sensing that sooner. He hadn’t been one himself. You would have read that in his aura the moment you met him, but you also hadn’t sensed his dark side. The mentally and emotionally abusive and manipulative side, the one that turned violent during an argument when you had tried to call him out on his bullshit and break up with him the first time. You had ended up in the hospital, and when you confronted him the second time, you had friends with you to back you up. And after destroying the amulet, those were the friends you called on for help with your predicament.

The Blood Moon Motorcycle Club was a found family werewolf pack, led by Jack Reynard, a fearsome and intimidating Alpha. But Jack was fiercely protective of his friends and allies and didn’t hesitate to show up with four of his most trusted lieutenants when you called and tearfully explained your situation. They got to work cleaning up the scene and going through Alex’s phone and wallet. They found a business card for an elite and dangerous organization of hunters, and the contact’s name and number on the card matched up with one of the contacts in Alex’s phone. Jack told you to start packing your bags and to make sure that you included any magical artifacts that you had. You would spend the night at their clubhouse under round-the-clock security, and in the morning, they would get you out of town. Anything that couldn’t be packed that night would be shipped to you once you were settled elsewhere. They would dispose of the body; it wasn’t the first time they’d had to do so.

Jack had called Bishop Losa, president of the Mayans Motorcycle Club in Santo Padre, California. Jack and Bishop had served together in the Marines in their younger days, and the Mayans and the Blood Moons were allies as a result of that friendship. The Mayans were another found family werewolf pack and protected Santo Padre alongside the Galindo Pack. The town was a safe haven for all supernatural beings and the humans who lived there were none the wiser.

And now you had been here for six months. You worked in a bookshop owned by another a witch, Matilda, and lived in the apartment above it. In addition to the books, you also sold your homemade herbal teas and did Tarot card readings in the shop. 2-3 times a week you would bake cookies and muffins and sell those in the shop. Your teas were so popular that you now did tea making demonstrations on Saturday mornings. You were thriving but were still plagued by nightmares and PTSD and attended therapy once a week to help you work through your struggles.

And then there was Bishop. At first, the Mayan president and Alpha had been your friend and protector. You had been too traumatized to even think about pursuing a relationship, and so you both denied the unquestionable and inexplicable attraction. The more you got to know each other, the more you were drawn to each other. Two months ago, he finally made a move while the two of you had been outside getting some air at a party at the Mayans clubhouse, asking if he could kiss you. You’d been a couple ever since.

*********************

You had just finished lacing up your boots when you heard the sound of a familiar motorcycle pull up to your building. You ran to the window and looked down to the street. You saw Bishop getting off his bike and removing his helmet. You exited your apartment and ran down the stairs, meeting him at the entrance at the side of the building. You threw your arms around his neck and kissed his lips. His arms encircled your waist and pulled you close.

“Hola Querida, you look beautiful.”

“Thanks, you’re not too bad, yourself, handsome.”

That got a chuckle from the Alpha. He removed one of his arms from around your back, revealing the bouquet of roses in his hand. “These are for you.”

“Bish, they’re gorgeous, thank you. You shouldn’t have.”

“And pass up the opportunity to surprise you? Not a chance.”

“Come on up. I’ll put these in water, grab a few things, then I’ll be ready to go.”

Bishop nodded and held onto your hand as he followed you up the stairs.

************************

You held onto Bishop as the two of you went speeding down the back roads, away from Santo Padre. You loved dates like this: just you and Bishop on the bike, heading somewhere unknown, away from all the stress and bullshit of the day-to-day. His torso felt warm, sturdy, and safe. You could feel the vibrations from bike rattling through your body as you watched the scenery fly by. You’d been on the road for at least half an hour now.

“Almost there, Querida,” Bishop called back. “You’re gonna love this spot, I promise.”

After a few more minutes he pulled off the road and the motorcycle slowed to a stop. Bishop turned off the engine and stored the keys in his pocket. You both got off and removed your helmets. You looked around at the small, wooded area and smiled, breathing in the fresh air.

“This is nice, babe.”

“Oh, this isn’t the spot, “he told you, unlatching the soft fleece blanket and cooler from the back of his bike. He handed you the blanket. He took the cooler in one hand and grabbed your free hand with his other, interlacing his fingers with yours. “It’s this way.”

You walked for a few minutes down a short path before finally arriving at a grassy clearing. The view was breathtaking. You could see everything from your elevated perched; Santo Padre, the valley, green leafy trees swaying in the breeze, fields of wildflowers. A sense of calm settled over you that you hadn’t felt in months. You didn’t jump when Bishop came up behind you and slid his arms around your mid-section, instead relaxing into his touch and leaning against his sturdy frame. Bishop softly kissed your shoulder.

“You okay, baby?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, “this is perfect, this place in perfect. The energy here is so peaceful, and so alive. I love it.”

“I’m glad. I was thinking we could eat dinner, watch the sunset? And wait until the stars come out…You can show me all the constellations?”

You turned and slid your arms around his neck, resting your forehead against his.

“You would have thought that you were such a romantic?”

“Just don’t tell anyone, okay? Gotta maintain my tough guy image, you know?”

“Mmm…your secret is safe with me.” You pecked his lips once, twice, three times, each kiss lasting a bit longer than the rest. When you finally pulled your head away you noticed that the blanket was laid out on the ground with cooler sitting on top.

“Come on,” said Bishop, directing you over to it. You both sat down, and Bishop opened the cooler and started setting out its contents: sandwiches from the local deli, fresh strawberries from the farmer’s market, giant cupcakes from the gourmet bakery, a bottle of beer for each of you, and bottled water. He popped the caps off the beer bottles and handed you one. “Cheers.”

The two of you sat and ate, completely at ease with each other, and the conversation flowed easily. Bishop told you about the day’s antics down at the scrapyard, and you told him about the business plan you and Matilda were working on to expand the bookshop into the empty café next door.

“The theory is, that having a space to sell food and drinks will drum up more business. I can sell my tea and baked goods and do my demonstrations there. We would obviously need to hire some extra people to help, but I think we can make it work. We can’t tear down the wall between the buildings and expand without the proper permits.”

“I’m sure the town will approve whatever permits you need. They’re not going to say to ‘no’ to something that will bring more business into Santo Padre.”

“Wow, you weren’t kidding about the sunsets,” you said, gazing at the red, orange, and purple hues of the evening sky. “How did you find this place?”

Bishop laid down on the blanket and you stretched out next him, placing your head on his chest.

“Me and the guys had just come back from a run,” he began, “Things didn’t go so well, and I was pissed, needed to blow off some steam so I just rode around for a while. Next thing I knew, I was here. I shifted, ran around for a while until my head was clear. I come back whenever I need to get away from everything.”

You tilted your head up to meet his gaze. “Thank you for bringing me here. I needed this.”

Bishop caressed your cheek with his fingers. “You’re welcome, Querida. I’ll bring you up here whenever you want.”

“Bish, can I ask you a personal question?”

“Of course, Querida, you can ask me anything,” he replied with a chuckle.

“Can I see you in your wolf form sometime? There’s no pressure, only if you want to…”

Bishop mulled the question over in his head. You had caught him off guard with the query. None of the women he’d ever been with had asked to see his wolf form, not even his ex-wife. These days, he only shifted when it was absolutely necessary. There were advantages to being an older and more experienced wolf. He could shift at will and didn’t have to worry about losing control. But what if you didn’t like what you saw? What if he scared you away? He’d never forgive himself if that happened. Your soft, sweet voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Bish, I’m sorry, forget I said anything- “

“No, it’s okay,” he kissed your forehead, “I just wasn’t expecting that question. I’ll do it if you want me to, but just be prepared, okay? I promise I won’t hurt you, but it might not be what you’re expecting.”

“I trust you completely, and I promise, I won’t be scared.” You looked at his aura and saw the hesitancy there. He was scared. “You’re not going to lose me.”

He cupped your face with his hand and his lips found purchase with yours. He had a way of kissing you that made your mind go blank and get lost in the moment, and you loved every minute of it. You kissed him back with equal fervor, hoping that somehow you were able to convey the trust and faith you had in him. The smile on his face when you broke away seemed to indicate that you’d been successful.

Bishop rose and walked a few feet away.

“What are you doing?” you asked, confused by his actions.

“Shifting is a lot easier without clothes on,” he replied with a wink, beginning to undress.

“I’ll close my eyes and give you some privacy then,” you giggled, shutting your eyes, but occasionally cracking one open to steal glimpses of his increasingly naked form; and damn if you didn’t like what you saw!

Bishop finished disrobing and crouched down on the soft grass. He breathed deeply and cleared his mind, focusing his intention. He felt his muscle start to ripple and his joints and bones shift. It didn’t hurt at his age; it was just slightly uncomfortable. All his senses sharpened. Body hair became fur, his hands and feet morphed into oversize paws with razor sharp claws. Even his teeth changed shaped, becoming longer and more pointed. A few moments later, he stretched and shook out his fur. He looked over towards you, still sitting there with your eyes closed, and cautiously padded toward you.

************************

You could hear the footfalls of his paws, and then felt his large wet nose nudging your arm. You opened your eyes and saw a massive wolf standing before you. His fur was brown and black, with specks of gray in various places. His legs were strong, and his paws appeared large enough to take out a person with one blow. But his eyes, his eyes were gentle, and you would know them anywhere.

“Oh, Bishop, you’re beautiful!”

He sat and cocked his head to one side, appearing confused.

“Yes, you heard me correctly. May I?” You held out your arms to him. Bishop bowed his head and leaned forward, allowing you to embrace him and bury your face in his fur. “Your fur is so soft!”

He put his head on your shoulder and let out a contented groan when your fingers began to massage the spot right between his ears. You giggled at that. “I take it you like that, huh?” Bishop lifted his head and licked your face in response, making you laugh even harder. You massaged his head for a little while longer before resting your forehead against his. “Thank you for letting me see you like this. I love you, Bishop.”

There was suddenly a very naked, human man in your arms. Bishop’s hands cupped your face, his eyes scanning it for any indication that he might have misheard you.

“Bish- “

“Say that again, Querida.”

“I said, I love you, Obispo Losa.”

Bishop pulled you into his lap and pressed his lips to yours, kissing you with more intensity and tenderness than he ever had before. Any doubts that you may have had about him not feeling the same quickly melted away. It went on for what felt like forever before the two of you had to pull away and come up for air.

“I love you, too, mi reina.”

You held onto one another like that for while before Bishop got dressed and rejoined you on the blanket. You spent the rest of the evening wrapped in each other’s arms and gazing at the night sky. And when a shooting star passed overhead, you made a wish that you could stay this way forever. No more looking over your shoulder, no more nightmares; just you and Bishop, ready to take on whatever the future might hold.

#adarafaelbarbaseptmeberbingo #bishop losa x reader #bishop losa #mayans #mayans mc #mayans fandom #mayans fanfic #bishop losa imagines #werewolf au #my writing

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let-them-read-fics · 3 years

Text

Conflicted Connections

Requested By @rc11: “Reader is drunk and calls Rosé to pick her up since she’s worried. And on the way home, the reader confesses but since she knows Rosé is out of her league she gets all sad. All fluff throughout the way, and the next day she avoids Rosé since she recalls herself confessing and is to embarrassed to face her. Gets a lil bit angst but then they somehow make up at the end.”

Pairing: Rosé x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~ 6,505

Warnings / Misc. – Mentions Of Alcohol & Partying, Angst, Fluff

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Thank you for the request! I had fun writing this one, and I really hope you enjoy it. I stuck with the gist, but I added quite a bit :) AND WHO ELSE IS HYPED FOR THE SHOW??? 🥳 I can’t wait to see our girls own that stage 😌

PS ~~ The song used is called "Baby, I Love You" by Tiffany Alvord, and it was specially requested.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

With yet another steaming cup of tea in hand, Rosé makes her way back to her room, settling onto the soft cushions of the bed. Her notebook lays open in front of her, lyrics and annotations beautifully etched into the paper.

She pulls her guitar back into her lap now, allowing her fingers to glide along the strings as she strums out whatever comes to mind. Nothing makes her feel as relaxed as this; she's free to sing whatever she feels -- to play whatever feels right. If only for a little while, she can connect back to her roots and remember how she felt as a little girl; when her heart and mind were unburdened by fear of judgement.

Life isn't always easy, but she takes comfort in the fact that her love of music will always remain childlike, in the sense that there's always something new to discover or tell the world. It goes without saying that being a songwriter is much easier when you're inspired, and Rosé can attest to that. A certain someone has become her muse over the course of the past few months, and her mind is constantly filled with ideas for new material.

As another line pops into her head, she takes the page between her fingers to flip to a clean sheet. A few seconds later, thinking she found one, she begins writing. Soon, though, she discovers that this wasn't an empty page: in the upper right hand corner, a small heart is drawn, encompassing the words "Hi Rosie" and a small smiley face. Your initials are printed next to the doodle, and the sight brings a soft smile to her face. You must've sneakily drawn that when she wasn't looking one day.

Her fingers run along the markings, tracing over the lines as your face flashes in her mind for the millionth time today. The universe must've been listening, because no more than 5 minutes later, her phone starts ringing. She reaches backwards towards the bedside table, and her fingers soon make contact with the device.

"Hey, I was just thinking about you--" She starts, before being interrupted.

"BABY YOU LIGHT UP MY WORLD LIKE NOBODY ELSE--" Your voice booms through the phone as you sing loudly, nearly making Rosé go deaf in the process. She blinks a few times to refocus her thoughts before chuckling lightly.

"Y/N?"

"Rosie I'm at this really fun party, you should come hang out!" Your words come out slightly slurred, but excited nonetheless. It's a bit hard for her to hear you now over the music blasting in the background.

"Ah, I don't know…" She trails off, voice unsure. She'd much rather spend the evening writing about you than at some random party.

"Pleaaseee?" You drag out, making sure to whine for even more emphasis. "I miss you."

Rosé's heart skips a beat at that last part, now thudding obnoxiously loud in her chest. She misses you too, probably more than a 'friend' should, but she can't help it -- you're simply too amazing.

She takes a breath, knowing that she'll likely regret her next decision -- after all, hiding her feelings becomes harder every time she's around you. Regardless, she can't find it in herself to say no to you. "Alright, fine. Where are you again?"

You let out a loud cheer upon hearing her cave in, and she just knows you look like a dork, likely having that stupid little smirk on your lips that she loves so much.

After getting the address from you, she goes into her closet to find a good outfit. For anyone else, she might've just shown up in whatever was comfortable; but knowing that you're there is enough motivation for her to put a bit more effort into it.

Her signature style shines through: she dons a black crop top and jeans, paired with a long, hickory colored trench coat. She finishes the look off with her white sneakers, giving the outfit that final umph that it needed.

With one last look in the mirror, she adjusts her clothes and hair again before heading out.

-----

The moment that Rosé steps foot inside the house, her eyes widen. She's been to plenty of parties before, but never one as chaotic as this. A large crowd is gathered in the living room, making the area that was likely once spacious now appear cramped and tiny. Some people move with the rhythm, while others dance wildly to the beat of their own drum. The music was audible from outside, but inside is a whole nother story: it's nearly deafening now.

In front of her, just past the living room, two guys are fist fighting. To her left, a long hallway is filled with couples making out, likely on their way to the bedrooms. She grimaces before pushing her way past everyone and walking towards the kitchen.

The bright strobe lights from the living room still manage to reach the area, but things are definitely a little calmer here. That's not to say that it's quiet, though: people are gathered around the counters, downing shots and cheering each other on at the same time. Some stumble around, nearly falling over as their friends laugh hysterically and help keep them vertical.

In the adjacent room, two teams of partygoers are busy playing beer pong. It seems to be boys vs girls, and Rose smirks when she discovers the latter are in the lead.

She scans the rooms one more time, but you're still nowhere to be found. A pang of worry settles in her chest, but it only makes her more determined to find you.

And, 10 minutes later, she does. You're outside in the backyard, sitting near the fire pit with a bottle of wine in your hand. The flames are dying down now, long ago forgotten about -- the stars shining in the midnight sky had captivated you, stealing your attention away from keeping the fire fed.

Before she begins her journey over to you, she takes a moment to appreciate how beautiful you look. The remaining embers flicker lazily, creating a deep haze that casts onto your body. The shadows contrast with the light, making your features pop in all the right ways. The sound of someone shouting again brings her out of her daze, and Rose makes her way to you.

At first, you don't notice her. Your eyes are wide, filled with wonder as you gaze up at the sky in awe. Space has always baffled you, and Rose thinks you look adorable when you get like this.

"Y/N," she says gently, standing beside your chair. After pulling your eyes away from the sky, you meet her gaze. A light blush rises to your cheeks at the way she's looking at you.

"Hi Rosie," you slur. The words come out cutely, but she can tell that you're much drunker than you had been when you called earlier.

"How much have you had?"

You scrunch your face up in thought as the last two functioning brain cells in your head go to work. She can practically see the wheels turning, and she can't help but laugh at the look of effort on your face.

"...a lot." You ultimately conclude, taking far too long to come up with such a simple answer. "Alex gave me a couple of his special mixes earlier, I had some shots, and now--" you declare, holding the wine bottle up triumphantly, "--this!"

As soon as she heard his name leave your lips, she frowned. Alex is one of your coworkers and friends, and he's totally in love with you. You're oblivious to it, but Rose isn't and she can't stand him. On top of the fact that he's a guy, he has the audacity to like you? Well, she can't exactly blame him for those things, but that doesn't mean that she has to like him. She's civil around him for your sake, but that's all.

"Do you want some?" You ask, always willing to offer her whatever you have. Sharing is caring, and you definitely care about a certain Australian beauty.

She looks down at you before shaking her head. "No, I'm good." You swish the liquid around, peering down into the bottle as it glides from side to side. "Me too," you say, setting it down beside your chair. "Let's go dance!" You suggest excitedly, using your strength to hoist your body out of the seat. Sorely miscalculating your moves, your foot doesn't quite connect with the ground how you intended; you stumble, falling right into Rosie's waiting arms.

She was watching you carefully, having a feeling that this would happen.

"Nope, I'm taking you home. No dancing for you." You whine and pout, but Rose doesn't budge. Eventually you give up, and allow her to hold you close as she helps you walk out of the house. You rest your head on her shoulder, and she has to fight the butterflies that take flight.

As the two of you near the door, Rose spots Alex in the living room. She shoots him a cocky grin, as if to say 'checkmate' before she leads you out the door.

-----

The ride home was getting off to a rather interesting start. It took Rosie a while to wrangle you into the car and buckle you in, but she eventually managed to do it. Now, though, a new problem is arising: you're being flirty, and she doesn't know what to do with herself.

"You're so pretty," you compliment, leaning over the center console to whisper the phrase in her ear. She gulps and attempts to calm her heart down, but she's having trouble. "Shush," she commands, blushing as she lets out a little giggle. She tries to remind herself that you're just drunk -- that there's no real meaning behind your words -- but it feels good to pretend.

After a moment, you return to your seat, and she lets out a sigh of relief.

Barely 2 minutes later, you place a hand on her knee, saying gently, "You always take such good care of me. Thank you, Rose." She sneaks a glance at you, and her heart nearly melts at the smile you're sending her way. Your eyes are shining with sincerity, and she'd surely get lost in them if she weren't busy driving.

The rest of the ride is filled with more flirting and compliments from you, all of which send her into a gay panic, but she wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

----

Now, laying in your bed as Rosé rounds up some pajamas for you, the effects of the alcohol really begin setting in. You're still in the playful, teasing phase, but you know you'll have a major hangover tomorrow. Whatever Alex put in those drinks is catching up with you and running its course throughout your body.

"Rosie, do you like anyone?" You call out, toying with your fingers like a toddler. She emerges from the bathroom, washcloth in hand, just as you ask the very words she's been fearing.

She goes to respond, but you interrupt her with a drunken giggle. "Because I do. Her name rhymes with nosey." You chuckle at yourself, but she's too busy trying not to freak out to return the gesture. When you don't question her further, she relaxes her shoulders. How many more times could she get away with avoiding her feelings?

She pushes the scary thought away, instead opting to bring over your clothes and give you a minute to change. Thankfully you're coherent enough to do that on your own -- the thought of you flirting with her while half naked and self-assured sends her wild, and she knows she'd slip up and confess.

Once you're dressed, she comes back over to the bed and sits down in front of you. She brings the rag up to your face and slides it across your cheeks and neck, knowing just what you need. This isn't the first time she's done this for you, and she can't deny the rush she feels when you look up at her with those big eyes, filled with gratitude.

You sigh at the coolness, relishing in the way that it soothes your hot skin. A soft thank you slips past your lips as your eyelids flutter shut, and Rosé almost lets herself imagine that you're hers. That she just brought her girlfriend back home and now she's taking care of her. But before she can get too lost in that fantasy, she pulls away, slipping the rag into your hand so that you can use it on yourself now.

"Well, I think my work here is done." She declares, patting your leg lovingly. She moves to stand, and the action prompts you to speak up.

"Wait," you start, grabbing her wrist before she can get away. You meant to tug gently, but you must've misjudged your strength; in an instant, she's close to you again, just a breath away. Her face is right in front of yours, and you can feel her warm breath against your lips.

Her eyes are wide now, and a subtle tremble runs through her. She's never been this close to you, and although she's terrified, she doesn't want to move away. She wants to give in -- to lean forward the tiniest bit and capture your lips -- but she can't. Her breathing becomes labored as she notices your gaze move from her eyes to her lips. Do you like her back? Surely not, you're just drunk...right?

Her pink lips look so kissable right now, the gloss on them shining in the low lamplight. She's close enough that you can smell her fruity shampoo and feel every jagged breath she draws in.

"Y/N--"

That's all it takes to set you into motion. You bring a hand up to her cheek, cupping it sweetly as you press your lips to hers. She sighs at the contact, melting into your embrace, and allows herself to let her walls down. Her lips move against yours slowly, unsure -- this is new for both of you, and you're testing the waters. One of her hands comes up to rest against the back of your neck, and she pulls you impossibly closer.

After she subconsciously bites your lip - the action drawing a groan from you - she snaps back to reality and pulls away. Her lips are red and swollen, and you have to stop yourself from leaning back in. She looks like she wants to do the same, but she centers herself before she can.

"I, uh, I'm gonna go. Goodnight, Y/N." She says breathlessly, swallowing as she runs a hand through her hair. She doesn't give herself anymore time to change her mind, and soon she's rushing out, failing to even give you so much as a second glance.

Shocked, you sit back and let your mind try and piece together what the hell just happened. The kiss worked well in sobering you up, at least for the time being, but you wish it hadn't. Now, you're forced to sit alone with your feelings again, lips still tingling with the memory of hers against them.

----

The Next Morning

*ring ring*

The blare of your ringtone sounds especially loud now, making you wince in pain. Your head is pounding, and that definitely isn't helping. Quickly, you roll over and pick it up, keeping your eyes closed as you press the button and hold it to your ear. "Hello?" You ask groggily, voice still laced with sleep.

"Hey, Y/N. The girls and I are going out later; do you wanna come with?" Jennie's sweet voice asks. You rub your forehead, now opening your eyes and staring at the ceiling as you ponder your options. With a glance at the clock, you see that you've already slept a good portion of the day away.

"I'd love to, but I'm pretty hungover right now Jen." You chuckle despite yourself, grinning when she laughs back.

"Rosie told us you might be dealing with that." Jennie laughs again, but you go quiet. Did she tell them everything that happened, or did she try and forget about it? After all, she basically ran away -- surely she regrets it. You scold yourself for even thinking that someone as out of your league as Rosé could like you back.

"Jisoo whipped up her special 'hangover-reverser' drink for you, as she calls it." She adds, hoping that'll win you over. Lost in your thoughts, you forget to answer her.

Jennie takes your silence the wrong way, saying, "You don't have to come, but we'd love to hang out." She sounds sad at the thought of you staying home, and a feeling of guilt creeps into your mind. Work has kept you from hanging out with all of them recently, and they miss you. You miss them too, and quickly decide that a hangover (and the awkward situation you'll be subjected to when face to face with Rosé) aren't enough of a deal breaker to decline their offer.

"I'll be over in a few. Tell Jisoo to make a couple more for the road… I'll need all the help I can get."

Jennie laughs again, and you pep up at the sweet sound. She celebrates, and you can hear the girls clapping in the background, shouting praise at her for convincing you to come. The two of you say your goodbyes, and you begin getting ready.

-----

"Jisoo, you're a lifesaver." You confess, flopping back onto the couch. The unnie responds with a smug, "I know," from her place in front of the mirror.

You lick the remaining liquid from your lips, and Rose shifts in her seat across the room. She can't get the feeling of your kiss out of her mind, and seeing you do that only makes things worse.

"Here's the second one," Lisa says, smirking as she pats your shoulder and hands you the cup. You smile back at her and smack her butt as a wordless thank you.

"Alright, so where exactly are we going, girls?" You ask as you tuck your feet underneath your body.

"I was thinking we could shop around Hongdae. They changed some stuff since we were there last, and it looks awesome." Jennie informs.

"Sounds good to me." Jisoo replies from the adjacent room, applying the finishing touches to her makeup.

Lisa agrees as well, and so does Rosie. At the sound of her soft voice, you make eye contact with her for the first time today. Ever since you arrived earlier, you've avoided her. She's done much the same, refraining from saying much to you at all. The girls haven't seemed to pick up on the tension yet, but they're observant; surely it won't take them long.

As you replay the fateful events in your mind again, you allow your head to lull back and rest against the cushion of the couch. Last night, Rosé’s eyes were speaking all of the words she could never tell you out loud, sparkling with repressed desire. It wasn't hard to tell that she was nervous, but she kissed you like she had been waiting to for an eternity. So, clearly, your confusion at the whole situation is understandable. Why did she run away?

"Ready?" Jisoo asks, kicking your foot to get your attention.

"As I'll ever be." You state as you stick a hand out to her. She understands immediately, swiftly helping you up. A little groan leaves you, your head spinning from standing up so quickly, so she doesn't move until you get adjusted.

"Thanks," you smile, giving her a sweet kiss on the cheek. Having such good friends always comes in handy, but there's something special to the little moments like these. She hums in response, and the two of you lead the way out to the car.

Rosé watches the whole encounter as she falls in line behind you, wishing she were in Jisoo's place. Last night was a wake up call for her, unexpected in literally every way, and she panicked. Looking back now, she wishes she would've at least explained her behavior to you. The kiss awakened something within her, releasing all of the feelings she's held in for so long. She didn't rush out because she didn't enjoy the kiss; if she had any idea that that's the impression it left on you, she would've ran back in and kissed you a million times over.

Lisa notices Rosie's furrowed brow and downcast eyes, and instantly knows something's up.

Now in the car, she leans in close to ask, "Everything okay?"

"Mhm." Rosie replies, doing her best to sound like her normal self.

The years have made Lisa an expert at reading the slightly older girl, but she doesn't want to push her. If she wants to talk about it, she will.

"Okay…" Lisa trails off, coincidentally making fleeting eye contact with you through the rearview mirror. On any other day, you would've fought Lisa over the seat next to Rosé; but today, of course, is unlike any other. You're in uncharted territory now, and you have no idea when -- or if -- you'll return to normal. For now, you make do with the passenger's seat, keeping yourself busy by looking out the window. Jennie's driving is smooth, and you appreciate that in your altered state. A low pulsing still vibrates through your head every now and then, but it's become much more bearable. Jisoo truly knows what she's doing with that concoction.

----

Hongdae, Seoul -- A Few Hours Later

"Jennie," Lisa huffs out, struggling to carry everything she’s been handed. "How much stuff do you need?!" The maknae does her best to keep the bags from touching the ground, but that task is proving difficult.

"We're almost there!" Jennie says, dismissing the younger girls complaints.

A few minutes later, you're seated at the new restaurant Jennie's spent the night talking about. Seeing the girls so happy today has taken your mind off of your own problems somewhat, but sometimes the issues are unavoidable… like right now.

Though she tries to be discreet about it -- even going so far as to hide behind her menu -- you can feel Rosé's eyes on you. The waiter seated you at a booth, and of course she happened to sit right in front of you. Having her attention has always been something you enjoy, but you're so embarrassed about what happened that you can't help but shy away from it now. If drunkenly confessing your feelings for her wasn't bad enough, you also kissed her. What could be next?

Rosie's dying on the inside a little more with every minute that passes. The past few hours were filled with plenty of fun and stupidity for the lot of you, stopping in just about every store you came across and joking all the while. But the entire time, you and Rosé kept your distance. Occasionally you'd crack a joke to make her laugh or the two of you would share a look, but the air around you was always thick with the emotions you couldn't give voice to. It also doesn't help that part of Rosé is afraid you didn't even really mean to kiss her. If she blames it on your drunkenness, she doesn't have to process her feelings; she can just go back to suffering in silence. When she looks at you, though, she knows there's no denying what you both feel for each other.

"Can I get you started with some drinks?" The waiter approaches again, pen and pad ready to go.

"Do you have sikhye?" You inquire, raising your head to look at him.

"We do."

"Great," you smile, getting an idea. "I'll take one of those and a glass of water, please." He jots down your request before recording the other orders and setting off to get the drinks prepared.

In order to preserve the plan, you don't dare look in Rosé's eyes.

A couple minutes later, he returns with a big tray of drinks; it's a wonder he didn't accidently drop any on the way. Jennie and Jisoo ordered multiple for the table so you could sample them, and you smile at the gesture. They all look tasty, but one in particular catches your attention.

When he hands it to you, you wordlessly slide it over to Rosé. You know she loves it, and you did order it for her, after all. She lets out a little gasp of excitement, and you choose this moment to really look at her. Her eyes are shining again, and you laugh -- if anything is capable of cheering her up, it's something that she can eat or drink.

She beams at you while extending her hand, gently resting it against yours on the table. It's warm and comforting, and you can't help but want to hold it forever. Her fingertips brush against the soft skin of your wrist, and you almost melt at the tenderness of the motion.

Thankfully the other girls aren't paying attention, or else you'd be thoroughly embarrassed. They continue on with their conversation, leaving you and Rosé to get lost in your own world for the next while.

More time passes, in which you place your food orders and the waiter later brings it out to you.

"Enjoy, ladies." He declares before bowing and returning to the host stand.

"It looks so yummy," Rose moans, snatching up her chopsticks before digging in. The other girls agree as well, and soon all of you are eating like there's no tomorrow. The flavors go perfectly together, and you pat yourself on the back for choosing the dish you did.

"Do you wanna try some?" You ask after noticing Rose eyeing your plate. You quirk an eyebrow at her as you wait for her answer, which comes in the form of a sheepish nod.

"That's my girl," you declare with a smile on your face, happy to bring back some of your playful banter. Rosie's heart speeds up at the title, but she tries not to show it too much. Although it's a bit unmannerly, you reach a bite of your food across the table to her and grin when she takes it. Her cheeks puff out in that signature chipmunk pose, and your smile widens.

"Yah, that's delicious." She sighs, closing her eyes to allow her palate to focus on the flavors.

You shake your head at how much of a dork she is for food, but giggle despite yourself. She really is the cutest.

-----

"Good evening, everyone, this is the manager speaking. Our lounge area will open in 10 minutes, and karaoke will begin shortly after!"

Lisa looks at Jennie incredulously, her mouth hanging open. "They have karaoke, too?? How cool is that!"

Jennie smirks, knowing how good she is at choosing places to take you guys. This joint is definitely somewhere that you'll frequent whenever you're around. "I know right?" She asks, satisfied with herself.

In Rosie's eyes, the karaoke announcement was fate working its magic. She's spent the day mulling over everything that's transpired, deciding earlier that all she needed was one more sign. Now that she had that last little push, all she has left to do is gather up all the courage she possesses.

As the 5 of you finish up your meals and wait for it to kick off, she racks her brain for the perfect song to sing. She's going to confess.

---

Fully stuffed and satisfied with the amazing dinner you just had, you all follow the waiter towards the lounge area. Located in the back of the restaurant, it's complete with 1 main, corner stage, and 2 smaller ones off to the side. Plush couches and chairs stretch out in front of the stages, allowing the audience to kick back and enjoy the performances.

A small bar is tucked away in the far corner of the room, stocked with a vast array of different liquors and mixes. Strips of light line the shelves behind the bartender, giving the space its own unique style, and you take some time to admire it all. A few small disco balls hang from the ceiling, placed strategically throughout the room to allow for the most amount of ambience possible. All of the different colors of the rainbow take their turn cycling through the projector, flashing and shining around the room in their random patterns. It's a very welcoming place to be.

You're the first guests in there, so you're free to choose whatever stage you want. "Which one should we go to?" Jisoo asks, doing a little half spin as she looks around the room.

"Really, unnie? You have to ask?" Lisa rolls her eyes and scoffs; she thought her best friend knew her better than that. Obviously Lisa wants to go to the big stage. How else would she show off all of her moves while she sings?

"You're so dramatic." Jisoo grumbles, sending the maknae an annoyed look of her own as she's dragged over to the performance area. You, Jennie, and Rosé trail after them, shaking your heads at their behavior.

----

"Come on, we're going first." You bite back a laugh as you watch Lisa tug Jennie up from her spot on the sofa, where she had just sat down and gotten comfortable. Jennie tries to protest, even pointing at the drink she just got from the bar to convince Lisa to let her stay, but she isn't having it. They walk over to the kiosk built into the wall, and take their time in choosing a song to sing.

Their performance is a wild ride, to say the least. Lisa forgets the words at one point, opting to compensate by freestyling a rap and dancing around wildly while everyone hypes her up. She could've just looked at the lyrics on the stage screen, you realize, but that wouldn't have been even half as fun. Jennie breaks into the box of props sitting just off stage, pulling out a multicolored, frilly scarf and wrapping it around her singing partner. To finish off her own look, she rummages around until she finds a comically large top hat and pair of heart shaped glasses.

"Golden buzzer!" You shout out, pressing an imaginary button on the table. The girls celebrate, and your combined laughter fills the room.

Next up is Jisoo, who decides to put her charm on full display and serenade all of you. She starts off on stage, letting her deep voice lull you into a state of entrancement before she approaches the couch. She greets each of you individually, giving you separate attention just like a rock star would, and all of you go wild for her. She tries to keep up the edgy, heartthrob persona, but it fades a bit when she cracks a smile, her eyes turning into those adorable crescents that you all love so much.

As her song comes to an end, you excuse yourself to the bathroom. In order to go through with your plan -- that is, singing a song to Rosie -- you have to calm your nerves a bit first. You splash water on your face and sigh as the chilly liquid slides down your skin. A bead of it trails down your neck, soaking into the cotton of your collar the second it hits it, and you're reminded of last night. A familiar warmth runs through you at the memory of Rosé's hands on your body, taking care of you like always. She's the definition of girlfriend material, and you always kick yourself for waiting so long to tell her about your feelings.

A basket of paper towels sits on the marble countertop of the sink, and you reach forward to grab one and dry your face. With one final look in the mirror, you throw the paper away and exit the restroom.

Too busy mentally preparing yourself for the performance, you fail to notice that Rosé is already standing on the stage, mic in hand. You lift your head as you near the stage, and she makes eye contact with you; she looks nervous, so you give her a reassuring smile and move back to your seat. Behind the nervousness, you can see how excited she is; you're intrigued.

"So, this song goes out to a very special girl here tonight. I hope you like it." She announces shyly, garnering some applause from the small group of diners that have filtered their way in from the restaurant. She presses play, and shakes her hands out in an attempt to get rid of the anxiety building within her. Up until now, keeping her worries in check had been doable; though as she stands alone on stage, looking down at the object of her affection, she's afraid all over again. And yet, somehow in an instant, you take some of those fears away. You're looking at her with so much love and encouragement in your eyes that Rosé thinks she can accomplish anything.

The song -- one you're hearing for the first time tonight -- picks up, and she begins.

There are three words, & I want you to know they are true

There are three words, that I've been dying to say to you

Burns in my heart, like a fire that ain't goin' out

I need to let you know

You're unintentionally holding in a breath as she croons the words out, singing straight to you. Her soulful vocals ring out across the space, making goosebumps appear on your skin; her voice always strikes a certain chord within you, the beautiful tones sounding like Heaven. She makes it feel like you're the only two people in the room; that even the world stopped for a moment to watch this play out.

I wanna say I love you, I wanna hold you tight

I want your arms around me & I, want your lips on mine

I wanna say I love you, but, babe I'm terrified

My hands are shaking, my heart is racing

Cause it's something I can't hide, it's something I can't deny

So here I go

Baby I lo-o-o-ve you

The smile on your face can't be wiped away by anything; no natural force of the universe could get in the way of this. Your heart swells at her confession as things finally fall into place. Possessed by the love you hold for the goddess in front of you, you decide to be brave and join her on stage.

She squeals and covers her face as you approach, and the audience erupts into cheers at this. They whistle and clap loudly, and you can hear the distinct voices of the girls from behind you. Pulling her hands away, Rosé's adorable face is revealed in all its glory. She has tears in her eyes, and they let you know that the past 48 hours have been just as much of an emotional rollercoaster for her as they have been for you.

You press a kiss to the back of her hand, feeling your chest tighten at the way it lightly shakes against your lips. You take a step closer and wrap your arms around her waist as she hooks her right one around your shoulders. Her left hand holds the mic between you two, making it so that you can sing the next part together.

I've never said, these words to anyone, anyone at all

Never got this close, cause I was always afraid I would fall

But now I know, that I'll fall right in-to your arms

Don't ever let me go

I wanna say I love you, I wanna hold you tight

I want your arms around me & I, want your lips on mine

I wanna say I love you, but, babe I'm terrified

My hands are shaking, my heart is racing

Cause it's something I can't hide, it's something I can't deny

So here I go

Baby I lo-o-o-ve you

The entire time you're singing, she can't take her eyes off of you. She watches as your lips move along with the words, your face scrunching up occasionally to aid in hitting all the notes, and she even forgets to keep singing a couple times. You're so close to her, just like last night. She vows that this time will be different, though.

After you finish the verse, Rosé surges forward, closing what little distance is left between you. During the performance you had gradually migrated closer to one another, so that made her job all the more easy.

She leans into you and smiles at the feeling of your racing heart. It lets her know that this is actually happening -- that after spending so many months waiting to finally confess and have you return her feelings, it's happening.

She tastes the strawberry chapstick on your lips, and it reminds her of the time she told you it's her favorite type. You used to wear a vanilla kind… does that mean you switched to strawberry after she told you that? (Yes, yes it does).

You bring your right hand up to her jaw and cup it as you move to deepen the kiss. A soft groan escapes her lips at this, and she doesn't waste any time in kissing you back even harder than before. It's long-overdue, and she can't get enough of you.

All too quickly, though, Rosie gets lost in the embrace, and the lounge is filled with feedback as the mic drops to the floor. She jumps at the sudden noise before snatching it up, her face crimson with embarrassment. After placing it back on the stand, she turns to hide her face in your neck. You just chuckle as you wrap your arms around her again. She snuggles in close to you, and you rest your head against hers.

"Awwww, they grow up so fast!" Jisoo wails, wiping imaginary tears from her eyes.

"Cough it up, Jendeukie." Lisa smirks, sticking a hand out in front of the other girl. Jennie shoots her a glare, but nonetheless reaches to the table in front of her to grab her purse.

"Not another word, Manoban." Jennie says, shoving the 5 dollar bill into Lisa's waiting palm.

The younger girl clears her throat dramatically before saying loudly, "I TOLD YOU SO! Nobody ever listens to the maknae."

You and Rosé can't contain your laughter anymore, and neither can the girls.

Soon the two of you are back on the couches, cuddling in the corner seat as the others make kissy noises at you.

She's nestled up against your side, resting her head against your chest contently.

"I know we kinda did things out of order and all, but I might as well ask. Will you be my girlfriend?" You smile dorkily as she raises up to look at you, a playful smirk of her own tugging at her lips.

"Absolutely, Y/N." She has stars in her eyes and a dreamy expression on her features as she leans in to kiss you again.

626 notes · View notes

noladyme · 3 years

Text

As It Should Be - A Raymond Smith One Shot

Raymond is the perfect gentleman, with a perfect home, and very settled habits. One of those habits had become to cancel dates at the last minute; and in stead spend the night in with his girl.

Now, she's had enough, and decides to challenge him on it, doing everything she can, to get on his nerves. The result is much more interesting than she'd anticipated.

Hell hath no fury like a girlfriend of a gentleman gangster, who has been stood up one too many times.

Ray had given me a key a few months before, during dinner at our favorite steakhouse – his backyard. We’d been celebrating 6 months together, and he’d handed me a small wrapped box, with a pretty bow tied around it. He’d most likely used a ruler to get the paper and the ribbon exactly the sizes he needed, to make it look as perfect as possible. His perfectionism both drove me mad, and turned me on immensely.

My hands had been shaking, partly in fear – I was no near ready for any diamond rings – but Ray had given me a slight smile. “Don’t worry, darling”, he said. “Nothing near as serious as you’re worried it might be”. “You telling me we’re not serious, Raymond?”, I replied snarkily. “Just open it, love”, he said.

Inside the tiny packet lay a golden key. “It’s for the house”, Ray said. “I want you to be able to come and go as you please… Just don’t try to break in to any locked freezers”. I raised a brow at him. “Is this because you don’t like my flat?”, I asked. “I know you have issues with council estates…”. “You spend most nights here anyway”, Ray said. “Look, I’m not asking you to move in… Unless you want to of course”. I laughed at his amused expression. “You wouldn’t last a week with me in the house!”, I said. “First time I use the wrong glass for red wine, or leave water stains on the bathroom mirror; you’ll go mad”. Ray blinked – his little adorable tick. “No, I won’t”. I tugged at his beard, and smiled. “Yes you will”.

Ray pressed the key into my hand. “Just… keep this, alright? The house feels more like a home when you’re here”. I leaned towards him, and placed a soft kiss on his lips. “I didn’t get you anything…”, I blushed. “That’s alright”, Ray smiled. “You can give me head in the shower later”.

I had used the key on more than one occasion – admittedly preferring Ray’s more comfortable bed to my own lumpy mattress in my one-bedroom rental. And both Ray and me had enjoyed when I’d been waiting for him in it, naked and ready to help him relax after a tense day of whatever it was Mickey had him doing all over London. Tonight, my plan was different.

Ray had cancelled four dates in a row, just as I was about to leave the house. He’d call just as I would be about to put on my shoes. “I’m so sorry, love. Work ran late. I’ll have Bunny pick you up, drop you at the house, yeah?”. And once again, I’d end up waiting for Raymond in his house, in my pretty dress; until he’d show up – an hour later – with a bouquet of roses or a pair of earrings too expensive for the queen, takeout from some fancy restaurant; and an apologetic smile on his face.

I was beginning to wonder whether Ray didn’t want to be in public with me. I wasn’t the kind if woman he’d usually meet while wining and dining lords and ladies all over England. Maybe my teacher’s salary and fondness of things like public transport – he’d practically begged me to let him get me a car, which I’d declined vehemently – was becoming too lower class to him. I decided to challenge him on it – and maybe, just maybe, I wanted to punish Ray just a little bit, for cancelling our plans for the hundredth time.

This time, I was ready. Ray called, on cue, just as I was about to slip on my shoes. “I’m so sorry, love…”, he began. “It’s alright, Ray. I understand”, I said. “I’ll pick up dinner on the way”. Ray paused for a moment. “I don’t want you waiting in some restaurant alone”, he said. “Don’t worry, babe. Bunny will be there”, I replied. “Tell you what. You can pick up the wine”. “Ripasso?”. I heard the smile in his voice. “You know me, I’m not choosey. Just make it red”, I said. “See you soon”, Ray said, and with after a few more warm words, we said goodbye, and hung up.

Bunny gave me large grin as I jumped into the back seat of the large Mercedes, dressed in leggings, a hoodie, and a smug expression. “Hello, Bunny”, I said. “We need to make a stop”. “Of course, miss. Where?”, he asked. “McDonalds drive-through”, I said. Bunny’s smile became impossibly bigger. “Ray is in for it, isn’t he…?”, he asked. “You fucking know it”, I smiled, and leaned back in my seat.

Once inside the house, I began my preparations. My first stop after kicking off my shoes and setting down the bag of food in the kitchen, was in Rays closet. I checked to see Fletcher wasn’t hiding in it, as he’d done once before; and then went through the collection of shirts. I chose a white Armani, shrugged of my hoodie; and put it on. For an extra touch, I left the closet door open, mussed up the sheets on the bed, and threw the duvet and a pillow on the floor. Next up was the bathroom. I opened the lid to the toilet, washed up – making sure to spray some water on the mirror – and dropped the towel on the floor, once I’d wiped my hands.

I dropped my hoodie on a chair in the hallway, and made my way to the kitchen. Being a big fan of Rays espresso machine, I made myself an americano, poured it into a tea mug – drank half of it – and left the mug in the sink. I took out two plates, carrying them over to the coffee table. I chose the actual silver silverware from the drawer, and put it by the plates.

With a few final touches, and after touching up my makeup, I sat down in one of leather recliners, and put my feet up – waiting for Raymond to come home. It wasn’t long before I heard his keys turn in the lock, and I readied myself for a potential catastrophe. I heard his footsteps in the hallway, and got up to stand. “Darling?”, he called out. “Something smells… deep fried”. I heard him stumble for a moment, probably over my sneakers on the floor. “I’m in here”, I said, and went to meet him in the kitchen – knowing his usual route when he got home.

Ray looked as dapper as ever, in a tweed jacket, a vest, and a pair of dark grey slacks. He looked mildly annoyed about having tripped over my shoes; and was holding a bottle of wine in one hand, and a wrapped box from Selfridges. When he saw my relaxed attire, he looked confused.

“I love when you wear my shirts, but that’s…”. “Armani. I know", I said, and tugged at it. “It’s very comfortable“.

Ray shrugged, put down the wine, went over to slip an arm around me, and kissed me deeply. I was finding it difficult to keep my composure, as I stood pressed against his firm frame; and inhaled his scent. “I brought you something… to apologize", he said, and handed me the beautifully adorned box. “You didn’t have to, Ray", I said, and suppressed the urge to open it; in stead tossing it on the kitchen island. He looked at me with narrowed eyes, and I kissed his cheek. “Dinner’s ready. Go wash up". Raymond stole another kiss, and squeezed my bottom, before going back out into the hallway, and towards the bathroom.

“Is this your sweater in the hallway?”, Ray called out to me, as he passed it. “Probably”, I responded. “You don’t usually wear hoodies”. “You could hang it…”, he said. “Never mind, I’ll do it”. I smiled to myself, imagining his grumpy face as he hung my 15 quid hoodie, next to his own Burberry trench on the coatrack.

Once Ray returned from the bathroom, I was sipping some of the delicious red wine, from one of the cognac glasses. Ray didn’t say a word about the state I’d left his bathroom in, but he did twitch at my choice of glass. “Something wrong?”, I asked sweetly. “Nothing at all”, he said, and tried for a smile. I handed him a glass of his own, and he struggled with not holding it in his palm, as he would have, had it been filled with brandy. I clinked my glass to his, and smiled. “Everything alright with work? What made you late?”, I asked. “A meeting with some people… Nothing that would interest you”, Raymond said, and turned towards the counter, noticing the half full mug of coffee in the sink. “I’m happy you’re making yourself at home”, he grunted, and peeked out the corner of his eyes at me. “Well, you told me to…”, I said, and linked my fingers with his.

Rays eyes twinkled, and he leaned in for another kiss; parting his lips, to deepen it. His tongue probed for entry to my mouth, but I pulled back. “Let’s eat”, I said, and walked towards the living room area. “I’ll set the table”, Ray said. “I already did”, I smiled. He looked confusedly at the dining table. “We eating outside?”, he asked. “No. I set us up over here”, I said casually, and threw myself on the couch; patting the seat next to me. Ray looked flabbergasted. “I have this lovely dining table…”, he tried. “Bring the wine”, I said, ignoring his words.

Ray sat down next to me, and filled my glass. I picked up the paper bag of food, and began distributing burgers and fries on the plates. “I got chili cheese tops and chicken wings as well”, I said. “Eat up”. I picked up the knife and fork, and began cutting into my burger. “That’s a … salad fork”, Ray said, his voice choked. “There’s salad in the burger”, I shrugged. Ray looked at me incredulously, as I dipped a few fries in my ketchup, and then – deliberately – let some of it fall and stain his shirt I was wearing. “Woops”, I said, and grabbed a napkin, beginning to dab at the stain. “Fuck, darling. That’s dry clean only!”, Ray sighed. “I’ll get it out… maybe some bleach”, I said. His eyes widened.

“What’s going on with you?”, he asked. “Nothing", I said, feigning confusion. I took a big bite from my burger, using the silver salad fork to put it there. “Yum". Ray took the fork from me, just as I was about to take another bite. “What are you doing?", I frowned “Why are you testing me?”, he demanded. “I haven’t the slightest idea what you mean, babe", I said. “I’m just enjoying a date with my darling”. “In a stained Armani shirt, and leggings?”, Raymond said. I shrugged. “It wasn’t like we were going out anyway". “I had reservations at…”, he began. I blew a raspberry at him, catching him completely of guard. “Like there was ever a chance we’d use those", I said.

Raymond’s eyes finally lit up in understanding. “You’re angry that I was late, and we had to change plans tonight". “Tonight?”, I sneered. “Try the last… five dates we were supposed to go on". Ray pinched the bridge of his nose, and took a deep breath. “I see… This isn’t how I’d seen the evening going either, love". “Sure it was", I said, getting up from the couch with my cognac glass of wine in hand. I took off my socks, and walked over towards the door to the yard. I opened it, and threw my socks outside. Ray got up behind me, in shock. “Its fine, really. I don’t mind the fact that you don’t want to be seen in public with me. That I’m not worth enough to be taken out somewhere nice”. Using a chair as a step, I walked onto the dining table, and made a little catwalk back and forth. Ray looked equal parts terrified, astounded and enraged. “This way, I can show you how truly at home I feel here".

“Please get off the table", he croaked. “No”, I said, taking a sip of my wine. “Please", Ray tried again, obviously trying to control himself. “Not happening", I said. I stopped my leisure stroll back and forth, and looked Raymond square in the face. We were both quiet, and it was like a standoff in one of those old western movies. “Get off the fucking table, or else…”, Ray said, patience clearly wearing thin. “Or else… what?”, I challenged him.

Though enjoying my little game, I was also beginning to fear that I was digging myself into a bigger hole than I could get out of. Raymond’s eyes were on fire, but I thought I could see something behind the rage – something quite intriguing. I decided to keep my game going. Either Ray would kick me out on my ass, or something else would happen; something much more fun. Either way, I’d have some sort if closure. “I will spank you six ways from Sunday", he said. I hadn’t expected that. “Is that a promise?”, I asked, not sounding remotely as confident as I’d hoped to.

As I lifted the glass to my lips again – all the time keeping my eyes on Ray’s – I shifted my fingers, so that I was palming it in my hand. Ray blinked again, twitching from my teasing.

Suddenly he made a jolt forwards, as if launching himself at me, and I almost fell of the table as I stumbled backwards. Looking down myself, I realized some of the red wine had splashed onto his shirt. “You made me spill my wine!”, I said. “Last fucking chance, darling”, Ray said, walking towards me; almost on the prowl. “We gonna dance now?”, I said. I walked to the middle of the table again – downed my drink – and used my toes to push the bowl of fruit towards the edge. Ray caught it just as it toppled over.

He walked over to the kitchen island, put down the bowl, and calmly took of his jacket; before rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. He walked over to the head of the table, cleared his throat; and set down his palms on it – his eyes dark. “Right. This is going to hurt me more than it will you”, he declared, before pouncing on me; catching my legs, and throwing me over his shoulder. He gave me a hard spank over the ass. “Will you behave now?”. “No!”, I yelled. He set me down, and turned me around by the shoulders; forcing my upper body down over the table, with a hand pressed down between my shoulder blades. I could honestly say I’d never been more turned on in my life.

“I asked you nicely, and you still acted like an imp”, he said. He used his free hand to pull down my leggings, exposing my panty-clad bottom; and as I kicked my legs, he removed them completely. “Impish behavior demands punishment”. He delivered a hard smack on my left cheek. “Ow!”, I yelled, trying to wrestle myself away from him. “You’re spanking me like a child, now?”. Ray leaned to hold me down with his whole arm. “Well, if you’re going to behave like a child…”, Ray said, and spanked my right cheek. His hand rubbed over my skin afterwards, almost soothingly. “You’re the one who should be punished!”, I growled. “You’ve been cancelling all our plans lately”. Ray spanked me on the left cheek again. “That’s what you’re doing? Punishing me?”, he asked. He gave my right cheek another smack. “When all I’m doing is keeping you happy… getting you flowers and presents; telling you to make yourself at home in this nice house… Oh, no; love. I’m a fucking prince to you”. “Yeah, I’m really feeling my princess Di fantasy here!”, I scoffed.

Raymond began spanking both my cheeks in turn. I let out yelps and whimpers at each hit; as they sent signals straight to my core. “This is for the silverware (smack)… This is for throwing the towel on the floor (smack)… For the glasses (smack)… For leaving your shoes about for me to trip over (smack)… And this (smack), is for walking all over my dining table on your bare feet (smack)…”. I was struggling in vain to get free; and at the same time wanted this torture to never end. His fingers ghosted my covered folds, and I drew in a short breath. Ray pulled me up to stand, and raised a brow, as he looked down at me. “Now, will you behave?”. “Not in a million fucking years”, I said.

Before he could catch me, I sprang towards the kitchen island, crawling on to it. Ray caught my ankle, but I managed to get free; and got down on the other side – the island now a barrier between us. I smiled wickedly. I grabbed the half full mug form the sink, and held it up as to spray the coffee at him. “Careful, Raymond. I know how you dislike getting dirty”, I smirked. “I’ll show you how fucking dirty I can get, babe", Ray growled, and sprang over the island, making me drop the mug back into the sink in pure shock.

Ray pulled me into his arms, pinning my arms down at my sides, and attacking my lips with a feverish kiss. I didn’t struggle now; my body responding by completely giving in to lust. After a moment of passionately kissing me, Ray let me go; and ripped open the shirt. “You ruined my shirt”, he growled, and pulled it off me; leaving me in my bra and panties. He was still impeccably dressed himself. The mix of his warm body and the cool fabric of his vest pressing against my naked skin was heaven. I began leaning against Ray, and bit my lip with a smirk. He shook his head. “You want to use things the way they’re not supposed to be used? Fine. Get your ass on that counter”.

My jaw dropped. Sex with Raymond was always thrilling, and we’d enjoyed these sessions, not only in his – and a few times my – bed, the backseat of his car, and in the shower; but also, one time in a fitting room, where Ray had come with me to help chose a dress for a job interview at a private school. I made the mistake of bending over with my back to him; and suddenly found myself pressed against the wall, with Ray covering my mouth with his hand, to muffle my moaning as he screwed me into oblivion. I hadn’t gotten the job, but I did gain a memory for life. In spite of this, we’d never had sex in his kitchen. Ray had this obsession with keeping everything in his home as it should be, and I had a feeling that it might be because he needed to control at least some things in his otherwise quite unpredictable life.

I gave myself a second to feel bad for having disrupted his perfect home base; before he lifted me up to sit on the kitchen island. He snatched a pair of scissors out of a drawer, pulled out the fabric of my panties, and cutting through them at my hips. “You bought me these!”, I said. “I don’t care”, he growled. “I’ll get you some new ones”. He ripped the ruined panties of me, and looked down at the apex of my thighs. The cool wooden surface against my bottom made the sting from the spanking subdue, and I shifted to get more comfortable. The moment seemed to drag out forever, as Ray just looked at me. He took a deep breath. “Don’t move”.

Ray left the room for a moment, and then returned; having poured himself a proper glass of probably very expensive scotch. Leaning back against the counter opposite me, crossing his legs; he took a sip of the drink, and commenced his staring at me. “I have to say, that is the most appetizing piece of meat laid out in my kitchen in a long time”, he said. “Ray…”, I said, feeling myself melt under his gaze. A wicked smile ghosted his face, when suddenly his phone buzzed in his pocket. He leisurely took it out, and picked up the call.

“Yes?... Handled it this morning. Meeting’s set up for tomorrow afternoon… No, you didn’t interrupt anything, boss. Just preparing dinner…”. He began strolling calmly around the kitchen, and I didn’t dare move. “I was about to ask her, but she’s a bit preoccupied at the moment… I’m sure she’d love to, count on us…”. He took another sip of his scotch, and then held the glass to my lips; seemingly for me to taste. As I opened my mouth, he pulled the glass back, and dribbled some of the amber liquid down my chest instead. I frowned, and parted my lips to speak; but Ray set down the glass, and held a finger to my lips. “Will we be needing extra security…? I’ll take care of it… Yes, of course, I’ll wait…”.

With the phone still to his ear, Raymond licked the trail of scotch on my skin, from my collarbone, down to the top of my breast. My breath hitched at the sensation of his hot tongue. Just as he was about to move the cup of my bra down, to go for my nipple, he stepped back again. “Yes, I’m here… Did he…? Well, he’s a right cunt, but consider it handled… I’ll keep you in the loop. Goodnight, boss. Give my best to Rosalind”.

He hung up the phone, and put it on the counter next to me. His fingertips travelled over my thighs; avoiding my warmth. “Sorry about that, but you know how it is”, he said. “Now where were we…?”. “You were wasting a 1000-pound scotch on my tits”, I jeered. “1500”, Ray said. “And I wouldn’t call it wasted”. He took another sip of the scotch, but before he swallowed it, he put his lips to mine; letting me have a taste. “What was that about you not being worth enough? I usually don’t baste my meat in expensive whiskey”.

He put his hands on my ass, and made me scoot forwards on the counter. His fingers travelled down my belly, and finally met my folds; dipping in between them. I drew in a ragged breath, as he slid his fingers up and down. “Let’s have a taste”, he said, and removed them again, putting them into his mouth. “Sweet, bit tangy, perfectly moist”. He dipped his fingers again, this time letting one of them dip in to the knuckle, and crook upwards. I threw my head back, and closed my eyes. He removed the finger again, and I groaned. “Quit with the games, Ray”, I complained. “You started this, love”, he said. “I’m just finishing it”. “Then, bloody finish it!”, I retorted.

Raymond stepped back, corrected his glasses, and clicked his tongue chidingly. “Now, now. No need to be greedy. We’ve got all night. As you said, dinner plans are out the window”, he said. “Fine. I wasn’t hungry anyway”, I said. He raised a brow at me. “No? Let’s see if we can wake that appetite”. He thrusted two fingers into me, and used his free hand to get me to lie back; before moving it down to brush against my clit. “Please…”, I whimpered. “Please, what? Forgive me, Ray? I’ll never be a brat again, Ray?”. He thrusted his fingers upwards, touching my sensitive spot inside, as he began rubbing circles on my nub. “No…”, I said, not wanting to give in. I struggled to keep my composure, but as Ray began thrusting harder, and stroked deliciously at me, I was soon too far gone to speak. “I’m…”. “That’s what I thought”, Ray said calmly. I clambered to hold on to something, put found nothing but a rolling pin; which fell to the floor, making a clanking sound to accompany my own cry of passion, as I came.

Ray gently withdrew his fingers, wiped them of in a handkerchief from his pocket; and took my hand for me to sit up. “All good?”, he asked, his face not giving away an ounce of emotion. His pants were giving away enough, though; as the bulge on the front of them had grown quite a bit. “Living room”, he ordered, and as I got off the counter, and walked towards the door, he turned around, and quickly washed the mug in the sink. “Tea mug for coffee. Honestly…”, I heard him mutter.

As I stood in the dimly lit living room alone, waiting, I shivered from the chill entering through the still open door to the back yard. “Ray?”, I called out. “Coming, darling”, he responded, and he came through the doorway; walking over to the patio door, and closing it. He gestured at me to get over to the couch. “Knees”. He was carrying the whiskey-glass, and refilled it. “Don’t I get one?”, I asked. “No… I said; knees”. He sat down on the couch, legs spread casually, and looked on, as I got down on my knees in front of him. The elitist machismo in the room, was thick enough to carve with a butter-knife. “How’s the appetite?”. “Getting there”, I admitted. “Well, bon apetit”, Ray said, and gestured towards his crotch.

I rested my elbows on his thighs, and unbuttoned his pants; pulling down the zipper. Ray made no move to help me unwrap his erection, so I went on to pull down the elastic of his boxer-briefs as well. He let out a silent grunt, when I wrapped my hand around him; and I smiled at his respond to my touch. I began stroking the velvety skin on his hardness; and Ray took a sip of his drink as he watched me. I stuck out my tongue, and flicked the tip over the sensitive spot under the head; before flattening it, and sucking him into my mouth. Ray tasted as good as he looked and smelled. A perfectly expensive taste, with an undertone of something animal – dangerous even. I bobbed my head up and down, hollowing my cheeks to make my pull on his penis tighter. Putting my hand into his bowers, I managed to get his testicles over the elastic as well. This made me able to massage them gently; rolling them in my palm the way I knew he liked.

My vagina was still sensitive from Rays former treatment, so when he leaned forwards, ran a hand down my back – between my cheeks – and slid a finger between my folds; I almost came from just that second of contact. Ray sat back again, and continued his viewing of my work on his cock. “Don’t stop on my account”, he said. I made a swallowing movement, and another stifled groan came from him. I hummed slightly; making vibrations to add to the sensation. I added pressure to his testicles, and felt them tighten in my hand. Apparently, Ray was even more impacted by my treatment, than his face gave of. I released him from my mouth with a pop, and smiled sweetly up at him. “Enjoying yourself, Raymond?”, I asked. He cupped my chin. “You know I am, darling”, he smiled. “But it seems to me, you are as well”. I nodded, and bit my lip.

I went back to sucking him off, while he finished his drink. I could tell he was struggling not to grab on to me, so I took his free hand, and put it on my head. At first, he simply ran his fingers through my hair; but then held on to it, and began controlling my movements. I let go of his testicles, and held on to his thighs, as I let him take charge of me. Ray led me to take him shallowly; then pressed me as far down as I could take him. After a few minutes, he couldn’t keep quiet anymore, and let out audible grunts and gasps, accompanied by a series of fuck, babe and that’s perfect, darling. With one final deep push, his cock twitched; and he came in my mouth – holding me there until he was completely finished. He let go of me, and I sat back on my heels; swallowing.

Ray took a moment to calm his breathing, before getting on his feet, and helping me to stand in front of him. He put himself back into his pants, and led me in front of him, towards the bedroom. I knew we’d end up there at some point; and suddenly felt a chill down my spine, when I remembered the state, I’d left the room in. Before he could open the door, I stopped him. “Ray… Uhm…”, I started. “What?”, he asked. “I sort of left a mess in there… The closet…”. “Fletcher wasn’t in it again, was he?”, Ray growled. “No, nothing like that…”, I said. He gently pushed me out of the way, and opened the door; stepping inside, and turning on the lights. “The fuck…”, he said from inside. I moved up behind him. “At least I didn’t spill ketchup on anything…”, I tried.

Ray began removing his vest and shirt, not saying a word all the while. I was worried – and at the same time hoping – that I was in for another spanking. I went to sit on the bed, and heard Ray open his belt behind me. “No", he said calmly. I turned to face him, and saw he was shedding his pants and boxer briefs. Undressed, Ray was no less regal. He might as well be wearing a dinner jacket, and holding a glass of port. As it was, he was naked as the day he was born, standing proud and fit. I sent a thankful thought to his personal trainer; or, Coach, as I knew him. Ray put his clothes in the hamper, removed his glasses, and placed them on the dresser in the spot he always did.

“Seeing as you’ve thrown half the bedding on the floor, we might as well start there”, he said. “But the bed is right there…”, I said, slipping an arm around his torso. I ran my hand up his chest, and back down, running my nails through Rays pubic hair – as always, well groomed, and blonde as his head. He raised a brow at me, and caught my wrist, as I was about to take a hold of his penis. “And the red wine glasses were right within reach too, but you still chose something else", he said. “You asked for this, love. Its upside down-day".

With a swoop of his arm, Ray had me on the floor, and he patted my hip to make me roll onto my stomach. Once there, he gave me hard smack over my bottom. “Lift", he ordered, and when I did, he took the pillow; putting it under my hips, so my ass was raised in the air, and my chest against the duvet covered floor. I looked back over my shoulder, and saw Ray kneeling behind me. The view of my bottom and wetness had made him hard again, within record time; and he stroked himself a few times, while he probed my entrance with his fingertips. Stroking my cheeks with his free hand, he then gave me one more hard spank. With a firm hold on himself and one of my hips, he pushed into me; bottoming out with the first thrust.

“Oh, my… fuck!”, I cried out. Ray stroked my back up and down gently, and then spanked me again. “I thought my spanking was over”, I whimpered. Ray leaned over me, to kiss my neck, and speak into my ear. “Why would I stop, when you keep making those delicious little squeaks every time I do?”. He smacked me one more time, and I whimpered loudly. “There we are".

He began moving his hips, the blunt tip of his cock rubbing perfectly against my front wall. I rolled my lower body, and with the pillow under my hips, my back was perfectly arched to make the sensation of Ray inside me more intense than ever. Ray kissed and nibbled at the sweet spot on my neck, as he moved in and out of me. “You taste better than a Big Mac, any day of the week”, he chuckled. His warm breath against my skin, sent small jolts to my warmth, and I moaned wantonly. I clenched the muscles in my tunnel around him; knowing that it was one of his favorites among my tricks. “Fuck, you know what that does to me, love…”, he croaked. I repeated the action, and Ray let out a choked moan.

He placed a hand on either side of me, and held himself up to thrust shallowly, before bottoming out again. I craved his closeness, and tried lifting my body to have his chest against my back; but Ray pushed me down. He took each of my wrists in one hand, holding them behind my back, and grabbed a handful of my hair – holding on tightly, as he forced me against the floor. I was completely at Raymond’s mercy in this position. I couldn’t move my arms, lift my back or my head; and he had placed his knees between mine – making it impossible for me to put my legs together. All this brute dominance, and his casual upper-crust demeanor, had me feeling like I was in sex-paradise.

He went back to shallow thrusts, and then one deep one, trying to make me reach my climax by stimulating my g-spot. Soon after, he was successful; heat rose from my feet and all through my body, and I felt my walls contract. I cried out in extasy. I heard Raymond groan, trying to hold back his own orgasm; apparently not finished with me yet.

After I’d settled around him, Ray pulled out. “I’d love to shag you in the backyard now, but its late, and cold; so, if you don’t mind, let’s go for the bed", he said. “That works", I agreed, though my body was still convulsing. Ray leaned down and left small kisses up my spine. “Do you need to stop?”, he asked softly. “No! Please…”, I pleaded. I managed, with Raymond’s help, to get onto the bed; my legs shaking, and breath ragged. Ray grabbed the pillow and duvet, and quickly made the bed up properly; an impressive feat, as my exhausted body was splayed out on it. He got under the duvet with me, and gently spread my legs, to lay between them.

Hooking a leg around Ray’s hips, I pulled him towards me. “I think you’ve learnt your lesson, now”, he smiled, and stroked my cheek gently. I put a hand behind his head, and lifted my head to catch his lips with my own. Our tongues stroked softly against each other, and I let out a content sigh. “Soft finish?”, I smiled. Ray lifted his head, and raised a brow at me. “Fuck no”, he declared.

Suddenly, both my knees were hooked over his shoulders, and he pushed into me with a groan. My eyes rolled back into my head, as Ray began thrusting hard and fast into me; without mercy. Every thrust felt like it reached the deepest parts of me. Gone was the well-groomed gentleman dom. Ray was a wild animal, his jaw clenched, and pupils blown. His hands were holding on to my breasts, making his arms force my thighs together. I was sure that I would have bruises on both my breasts and my thighs from his attack, could not give less of a fuck; from the extreme orgasm that was building in my core. Crying out wasn’t enough; I screamed Ray’s name so loud, I was sure his neighbors would show up with noise complaints. In his current state, I was convinced he’d probably meet them in the door naked, telling them to either get in and enjoy the show, or fuck right off.

I grabbed his biceps, and dug my nails into his skin, leaving my own marks on my lover. My legs stretched out, and every muscle in my body tightened, as I exploded. Ray growled from my walls tightening around him, and the pain my nails were surely bringing him. His hair was disheveled, and his eyes burrowing into mine. My orgasm was at its peak, and my voice hit a pitch I didn’t know it could. Ray kept thrusting, and the feeling was getting so intense, I was unsure whether or not I’d pass out before long. “Please… I… Too much!”, I whimpered; as my body was thrusted back and forth from Ray’s movements. “Almost, baby. Keep going…”, he growled.

Just as I began thinking this is it. I’m going to die from too much orgasming, Raymond pounded into me three final times, and came inside me with a roar.

I was shaking as Ray dropped my legs from his shoulders, kissed my unmoving lips; and pulled out of me. He laid down next to me, and gave a me a crooked smile. “You still with me?”, he chuckled. “I just came… a lot!”, I croaked. “I could tell…”, he said, and moved a lock of my hair out of my face. “You’ll be happy to know, that so did I”. I laughed hoarsely.

“I should get cleaned up, before I get cum all over your Egyptian cotton sheets”, I sighed. “Fuck it. They were on sale”, Ray shrugged. I shook my head in mock confusion. “Excuse me?”, I said. “You bought something on sale?”. “Just keep it between us, love”, he said, and pulled me close, to kiss me. I tugged at his bottom lip with my teeth. “I still have to go pee”, I said. I crawled out of the bed, and made my way towards the door. “Please put the towel back on the hook, when you’re done washing your hands”, he called after me. I smirked at him over my shoulder.

Once I’d finished my business, I made my way back to the bedroom. Ray had already fixed up the bed, and left his spare robe for me over a chair. Putting it on, I searched for him; finding him clearing up the mess I’d made around the house. I leaned against the doorway, watching him. “I’m sorry”, I lied. “No, you’re not”, he said. After having put the plates in the dishwasher, he walked over to me, taking my hand and pulling me with him, to sit down on the couch; where earlier he’d been enjoying my lips around his cock. “And as much as I enjoyed screwing you senseless just now, I’d like to know where all this came from”.

I looked down at our joined hands. ”You’ve been avoiding going out with me”, I said. “I know I don’t fit in to your posh lifestyle, but…”. “That’s what this was about? Getting back at me?”, he asked. “Partly”, I admitted. “And I suppose I wanted to… make you see what I’m really like. So, you could make a decision to either accept me, or…”. “Finish it”, Ray finished my sentence for me. I nodded.

He sighed deeply. “Darling… First of all, the fact that you don’t give a shit about which fork to use, and throw your clothes around, annoys the hell out of me; and makes me love you even more”. I met his eyes, and let out a short breath. Raymond had never used that word before. “Love…?”, I whispered. “Fuck yes, I love you”, he smiled. “And you not only fit in my life, you’d leave one hell of a hole, if you left. So no, I don’t want to finish it. You’re not getting rid of me by feeding me fast food, and throwing your socks in my yard”.

I frowned. “Then, why are you always working late? Cancelling our plans?”, I asked. “Well, that is the second part of this conversation, I suppose”, he said. “I knew we’d get here at some point, but I’ve been putting it off… You know what I do, isn’t exactly legal”. “Of course I do”, I said. “It’s not normal to sleep with a .48 in the drawer of your bedside table”. Ray brushed his thumb over my knuckles, and continued. “We’ve been having some issues with another… organization, in town”, he said. “They’ve been making some threatening moves… I’m worried, that of you’re seen with me, they’ll try to use you to get to me”. My jaw dropped. “As in… They’d kill me?”, I croaked. “I don’t think they’d go that far, but I’m not willing to take that chance”, Ray said firmly.

I took a few moments to think. “Ray… you can’t keep me locked up in this house”, I said. “I’m more than happy to do what you ask me to keep safe; but at some point, I’d like to get out… make all those posh cunts jealous of my arm candy”. I tugged gently at his beard, winking at him. “Who says you’re not the arm candy, darling?”, he smiled. “What, in my 20 quid H&M dresses, and worn shoes?”, I scoffed.

Ray stood up, and led me into the kitchen. He grabbed the wrapped box. “Actually, that’s why I got you this”, he said, and handed it to me. “Now, that was quite a bit more than 20 quid, but I’m sure you’ll look just as lovely in it, as you do in everything else you wear”. I blushed, and began unwrapping the box, opening the lid, to reveal a beautiful cocktail dress; in my exact size. “I don’t have anywhere to wear this!”, I said. “And it’s too expensive to keep at my flat. I’ll get robbed. I had to buy a lockbox for those earrings you got me”. “Michael has a birthday-party coming up next weekend. His wife will have my bollocks, if I don’t show; with a date”, Raymond said. “So, I can’t cancel on you this time”.

I took out the dress, and held it against me. “Bringing me as your date for your boss’ party… that’s pretty official, love”, I smiled. “It is, and it’s about time”, Ray responded. “And as far as where to store it…”. He tilted his head, and looked pleadingly. “Please leave that rat infested hell hole of a flat, and move in here permanently. I have to take a shower every time I come home from that place”. “It’s not that bad”, I said. “My next-door neighbor bakes me cookies every Christmas”. “And the one further down the hall, sells smack out of his trunk”, Ray retorted.

I bit my lip. “You really want me here? With my novelty mugs, and sneakers littering the hallway?”. “Absolutely”, Ray assured me. “Gives me ample opportunity to shag you on every surface we didn’t make it to tonight”. “Even the table in the backyard?”, I grinned. “We’ll have to make sure the grill isn’t so hot, you burn your perfect ass”, he said. “What do you say…?”. “Fuck it. Why not…?”.

Ray smiled warmly, and wrapped me in his arms. “Just for future reference; I prefer Burger King over Mickey D’s”.

---

#raymond smith x reader #ray smith #raymond smith #Ray smith reader #Raymond smith x oc #Ray smith x oc #the gentlemen #Raymond smith smut #Ray smith smut #Raymond smith fluff #charlie hunnam

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wasbangtanhome · 3 years

Text

late, late, late | KSJ

banner made by bangtanhome! (me)

Summary: Is he late? Yes. Were you mad? Yes. Was it a special day? Yes, yes, yes! You had everything prepared and you just wanted your boyfriend to come home. Now.

Pairing: Office worker!Kim Seokjin x F(Reader) | also kind of dom!Jin

Warning: 18+. Smut in the form of: pwp, provocative dress, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it hehe), oral sex (M receiving), fingering, use of the word "slut", cumming inside, impact play (ass and pussy). also he used the L word.

Word Count: 4.4k

Author's note: Short and sweet to start off my journey here on tumblr!! I hope you enjoy it and to please please let me know about any improvements. I worked really hard on it! Also my first smut fic! Also, also, there are not a lot of pet names ever since I saw the post about what Namjoon, Jungkook, Jimin, and Jin would call their lover. I got super sappy.

From the kitchen window, you have a clear view of the entrance leading to your apartment that you share with your boyfriend. The sun has set and it's well past dinner time but you have yet to see his face walking up the steps, blowing a kiss at your general direction.

You chew the inside of your cheek. He's late, you thought, peering out the window for the nth time while drying the dishes. You can't help but worry. Seokjin usually calls if he picked up an extra shift, but your phone has yet to move.

Today marks a year of the two of you living together. The year hasn't treated you kindly. A while back, your company had some budget cuts. Your department was abolished and unlike the lucky coworkers that were transferred, you were a part of the handful that received severance pay.

You figured going back to work would be easy, especially with your qualifications. However, you have yet to get a call from any of the places you applied to. With you unable to work, you spend your days maintaining the apartment. Your boyfriend, his smile ever present, told you he would just have to take more shifts.

‘You know, ______, housework is really hard to do,’ he remarked. ‘Besides, I make more than enough money to support us both.’

You smiled at your boyfriend then. It was true, there wasn’t really a need for you to go to work. You eased up on your stress over not finding work and dutifully cleaned the apartment.

You trudged your way to the entrance of the apartment. Head resting on the front door before unlocking it with your key. Seokjin was drinking tea by the window sill, looking as ethereal as ever. He noticed you had entered the apartment, smiling lovingly at you.

Before he had a chance to say hello, you broke the news about what happened during work. Instantly, your boyfriend came towards you, his smile faltering as he saw the state you were in. The fatigue in your bones left you slumped on the ground.

Seokjin did not say a word, opted to close and lock the door behind you before sinking to his knees to meet you at eye level.

‘Hey,’ he murmured softly. ‘It’s going to be okay.’

He nudged your shoulder and you fell to his embrace. This was the straw that broke the camel’s back. You whimper softly as you seize his dress shirt, hot tears falling on his dress shirt, turning the color a shade darker than it was. Your knuckles turned white as your chest rose and fell rapidly, ragged breathing moaning the loss. And yet, your Seokjin rubbed circles on your back soothingly, hugging you tightly, not saying a word.

‘Sorry,’ you remembered mumbling as the coil in your stomach loosened.

‘Don’t be sorry, _____, there’s no reason for you too,’ he whispered back.

Silence fell before he piped up. ‘What do you call a bike that can’t stand on its own?’ he waggled his eyebrows when you looked at him, confused at what he’s saying. It took you a good moment to know that he was joking.

‘Two-tired!’ he exclaimed, laughing at his own joke. You smiled at your lover and before long, laughed along with him; his joy infecting your sadness.

He took out his handkerchief, wiping the streaks of tears away and giving it to you. At his gesture, you snickered before dissolving once more into tears. He had fretted then, worried that he had done something wrong.

‘I’m so lucky,’ you mumbled in tears. ‘Lucky to have you as my boyfriend, Kim Seokjin.’

He smiled softly at your comment, proceeded to pull you in his lap. ‘So, what do you want to do now?’

‘Easy,’ you sniffled, plastering a smile on your face. ‘We order fried chicken and drink!’

Seokjin had looked at you funny, surprised to hear you crave alcohol. Your smile was infectious and he ruffled your hair to agree. ‘That’s my girl!’ he exclaimed. ‘Let’s find you an even better paying job, okay?’

He was so enthusiastic, making the tragedy that happened to you that day seem so… trivial. You got drunk that night, your body not used to the alcohol.

You smile softly at the memory that happened after, your boyfriend’s hair stuck to his face, panting heavily as you came all over him. You try to push the memory away, focusing instead on your task at hand, but the damage was done- you're wet.

You chew on your bottom lip, hands traveling lower, touching your folds.

I’ll just start without him.Something nagged at your brain, and as your fingers sought out your clit, you realize how unsatisfying it would be without your boyfriend coaxing orgasm after orgasm from you.

You moan, anticipation and desperation threatening to consume you. Distracting yourself, you went through your mental checklist again. Skimpy apron? Check. Food? It’s cold because it’s been in the fridge, but check. The line that you’ve been practicing for the past few months to win over your boyfriend? Check, check, and check.

You glance again and the parking lot was empty now, its residents taking space in their respective homes. No sign of Seokjin.

You huff, grabbing your phone and pressing the on power roughly, almost causing it to clatter on the ground. Almost. Your screen flickers on and you see an image of him smiling back at you. You stuck your tongue out at his face, and punched a string of numbers you know by heart.

The line rang for a long time. You were about to let it go to voicemail. At the last second, you hear a tired voice answer you.

“Darling?” Seokjin’s voice was gruff and sleepy. You can make a mental image of him running a hand through his hair. He sounded distracted, probably looking at his spreadsheets as the numbers start to blur together.

"Hi," you try cheerfully, clearing your throat, hoping he can’t hear the anticipation across the phone. You cradle the device between your ear and your shoulder before brushing lint from your apron. "Are you coming home soon?"

Seokjin looked at his watch, knowing something was clearly bothering you. Looking at the time, he scrambled to his feet: 19:32.

"Wh-Wha--?" came the stunned response. You hear Seokjin push his chair back and the familiar beep of his computer turning off. You laugh quietly as you hear doors slam and his voice echoing in the staircase.

"Oh, _____, I'm so sorry. I had no idea what time it was," he pants, high on adrenaline trying to get home as soon as possible.

"I'm so sorry, ______. I'll be home soon. You can start eating without me, okay?"

You feel a grin paint your face, relief that he was at work. "I'm okay! You must be hungry, love. Just glad you're finally coming home. I can't wait to see you. Drive safe!" you exclaim hurriedly, knowing he won’t want to call when he’s driving.

He murmured a confirmation and you ended the call. Seokjin may be late but there’s still cause for celebration. Settling the butterflies in your stomach, you open the fridge door to take out the food you had prepared earlier, heating them up.

You finally see a familiar figure run from his parking space. His dress shirt untucked and he stopped for only a moment to blow a kiss towards you. His hair clung to his scalp, his tie was loose, and his eyes shining with adoration. You waved back quickly before seeing him disappear into the building.

Seokjin expected you to be angry, ready to apologize for coming home so late. At the very least, he expected a hug, you seemed happy enough, asking how his day was in the office. What he didn’t expect was you in an apron… wearing nothing else. His eyes roamed your body, stunned at the lack of clothes, briefcase dropping heavily on the floor.

"Are you going to close the door?" he heard you ask.

Never taking his eyes off of you, he closed and locked the door, sliding out of his work shoes. Like a deer caught in headlights, you can’t help but wonder what would happen if you approached him.

You hear him gasp as you get closer, his face incredulous. You pressed your chest towards his, relishing in his ears turning red.

"Now,” you smirk and grab a hold of his tie. “Would you like to start with dinner,"-- you croon as you fling it behind you.

"-a bath,” you say seductively as you open the first couple of buttons of his dress shirt. “-or me?" you finish, dress shirt completely unbuttoned as you watch his delicious figure.

You don't often see your boyfriend at a loss for words. But this... this was something else. Seokjin opened and closed his mouth, blinking rapidly. You hid your smile behind closed lips, enjoying the fact you’re making him squirm.

"What did you make for dinner?" he stammered, forcing a chuckle.

You waved at the table. "The works, japchae, fried chicken, corn, kimchi… You know, our favourites."

"Huh..." he managed, swallowing. Seokjin knew how hungry he was when he left the office, but he couldn't seem to focus on the steaming delicacies on the table. He turned his gaze back to you, slowly closing the distance between your lips.

"Good answer," you murmur.

"Didn't know it was a test," he whispered, dipping his head back down, claiming your soft lips once more.

You smiled into the kiss, content that he was finally home. His hands stopped trembling as it snaked lower. One hand circled your waist, the other trailing soft circles on your back. You shivered at his delicate touch, arching your back into his hand to feel more.

Seokjin seemed to understand your signal and lifted you up, making your way through the living room to reach your bed. Once you landed with a soft plop, he continued the kiss. Heat was rising to his cheeks as he fully shrugged his dress shirt off, returning shortly to connect his lips to yours.

"Jin, I can't see... it's too dark in here," you whined, feeling your skin burn where he touched your body.

You did not receive an immediate response from your beloved, only hearing the thud of a belt on the floor and you hoped his pants came off with it.

"I think it's the perfect amount of light to make you squirm," he whispers. You feel the mattress sink with his weight and the heated kiss resumes, your hands flying to tug at his hair with urgency. You start to feel feverish from the kiss, trying desperately to connect your hips to something so you can feel the first waves of pleasure. You’ve been waiting for such a long time.

He smiles at your impatience and starts tweaking your clothed nipple. "Off..." you whined, wanting the apron gone.

Seokjin slipped the shoulder straps down. You arch your back and he untied the ribbon holding everything together easily. He threw it over his shoulder and finally, his large palms directly touched your tits. He sucked on a nipple while his hands were busy, roaming every inch of your body. You moaned underneath him, thrusting your chest upwards to give him more access.

"Mmm..." you sigh as his hand travelled south and pressed onto your clit.

"You're so wet already," he released your nipple, chuckling darkly. "Have you been waiting all day? Did you want to be fucked that badly?"

You winced at his words. He continued circling your clit, waiting patiently for your answer. "Well?"

"Yes, darling," you pant out. "I have been waiting all day for you! Ah- and you were late," you whined pathetically.

He chuckled again, muttering apologies under his breath while he continues to play with your clit, your nipple back in his mouth. You knew you were going to get a real apology after you're done, but this was enough.

You felt his finger enter your pussy, testing out to see how tight you were. Your eyelids fluttered shut as he added another finger, eliciting a moan from you.

"Yeah? You like that?" came the breathy response.

Your head spun as he curled his fingers at the sensitive bundle of nerves. His thumb pressed and circled on your clit, his pace getting faster and his thrusts getting deeper.

"Jin, I'm close," you squeak out, squirming at his unrelenting force. Your high was right there, waiting for your undoing. But your boyfriend had other plans and his thrusts stopped completely before you came.

You whined, your hands tugging at his hair dangerously. Frustration swept overr your face as it turned even more crimson than his ears. "J-Jin..." you grumble weakly, catching your breath. Your cunt squeezed at nothing when he removed his fingers completely.

"Wanted to feel you cum on my dick," was his simple response.

In the fog of your pleasure, you weren't aware of his veiny cock rapidly growing harder, tip already leaking precum. You stared, dazed as he pumped his length. You also had other plans when you moved to the floor.

You licked a stripe down from the tip to the base, earning a hiss from your boyfriend. His eyes fluttering shut when you look up, his cock slowly disappearing into your mouth.

You suck lightly at first, taking care that your teeth don't make contact with his sensitive member and begin bobbing to a rhythm. He groaned as you stuffed your mouth with his cock, hands grabbing fistfuls of your hair.

"Ah- ________, ah-, can I move?" he huffed out, unable to form sentences without groans.

You moaned to signal your affirmation and he used your hair as leverage to pull you closer to the base. You struggled and gagged, feeling so fucking full. You whimper as he held you there, his head falling back with a groan.

Seokjin snapped his hips, thrusting deeper into your throat. The sensation made you moan, tears blurring your vision. He picked up the pace when he saw you, loves the view of you struggling with his cock in your mouth.

He loved to ruin you, would never admit that out loud, but seeing his lover whimper and sob because he was too big made him moan. Seokjin was holding your head in place, letting his hips do all the work. You groaned out, the vibrations on his cock almost sent him over the edge.

You knew he was close. In ragged breaths, he was saying how beautiful you were, how well you were taking his cock, how amazing you felt, and all the sweet nothings you often hear. However, when his thrusts turned messy, an indication that he was close, you shifted backwards and his beautiful cock fell out of your mouth.

"Fuck!" he cursed loudly, careening forward. He held your head in place for balance, not wanting to fall, worried he hurt you somehow. However, he was greeted with a teasing grin. "Payback, love," was all you said smugly.

You knew you shouldn’t have pushed his buttons that way. But you couldn't help it, knowing the wonderful outcome that awaits you.

He growled, anger flaring with every second that passed since you denied his release. "Bed. Now,” he muttered under his breath. You obliged at his command, though you did it slowly, never taking your eyes of him

This side of Seokjin rarely comes out to play. He was always worried he'd hurt you.

‘Yeah, that's the point,’ you snorted, recalling the memory of explaining what you wanted like he was 5.

Even still, this was a welcomed surprise. You made a mental note of how you pushed his buttons that day, hoping to recreate it in future events.

You were about to sit on the bed when you turned around, climbing on all fours instead, excited about what he would do to you.

“That’s not what I asked you to do, slut” he chuckled, waiting for you to get settled. You teased your ass, moving it closer towards his dick before pulling back.

You didn't anticipate the first slap, the sound of his palm hitting your skin filling the room. You moaned, wiggling your ass towards his face, eyes shining bright with lust.

"Ah- you like being spanked, huh?” Seokjin said, scratching his chin. “Who knew you'd this much of a slut."

You moaned at the word, loving when he said such mean things to you. Your knees buckled when the next smack wasn’t on your ass. He clicked his tongue as he watched your juices flow out from having your cunt smacked. Seokjin reached gingerly towards your clit, teasing it to ease the pain.

"Oh?" he said simply before smacking you again, this time back at your ass. He alternated between slapping your ass and your sopping cunt, the uncertainty of where the next pain would land causing you to see stars.

You whimpered and whined underneath him. Fully lying on your stomach, your ass no longer in the air. You held a pillow, moaning into it, praying the neighbors wouldn't complain about the noise. "J-Jin... please fuck me."

"Huh, I didn’t know this one could beg," he chuckled. The thought of him being with another slut left a twinge in your chest, but that jealousy subsided when he slapped you hard this time, snapping your mind from your thoughts. There was some shuffling behind you and you felt the tip of his cock on your entrance, Seokjin coating his erection with your juices.

"Shit- it's so slippery..." he said mockingly, "slipping" past your cunt. "I can't seem to get it in."

His teasing left you desperate, clinging so hard on to the pillow that your knuckles started to turn white. And just as you felt the anticipation was too much, Seokjin thrusted into you fully, his girth entering you all at once, not caring that you usually needed time to adjust to his cock.

Seokjin dragged you closer towards him, your legs off the bed. He held your neck down with his arm and thrusted hard into your cunt. Before long, you begged silently as your high approaches, hoping that this time your boyfriend would let you cum.

"Baby, I- I'm close."

"Are you now, sweetheart?" You nodded and whimpered at his question. Your voice was getting higher, moans filling your small bedroom.

And he stopped again.

You buried your face in the pillow to scream. You were so agonizingly close and he denied you just like that. Tears fall out of your eyes now, you hiccup and sob, glaring daggers at him.

Normal Seokjin would've scooped you into his arms, a myriad of apologies would spill from his mouth.

But not this time. Instead, he grabbed your hips with his muscular arms before flipping you over so you lay flat on the bed. His cock went back inside, thrusting slowly while he spun circles on your sensitive folds.

"Please-" You breathe in deep, trying to stabilize your hiccups.

"One more for me?" he asked. His voice low and husky.

You start shaking your head, pleading, no- you couldn’t do it again. You were begging him to let you cum. He continued his shallow thrusts and his attention on your clit. You sigh underneath him, overstimulated beyond belief.

"One more," he insisted and leaned close to your ear. "For one whole year of living together." He nibbled on the shell before moving down to your neck. "Please?" You moan when he sucked on the delicate flesh.

You melted into his embrace and nod. "One more."

Perhaps you should've considered longer. Perhaps it was your lust-addled brain that made you say yes. Perhaps you should not have fallen for his devilish charm. But it’s all too late now as he lay on the bed, and you climbed over him.

"Mmph..." you moan, throwing your head back while you grind your pussy on his cock. You snuck a glance below only to find seeing your boyfriend drowning in pleasure.

You leaned forward and bumped your forehead with his. Seokjin's eyes open gently. He pants quietly as he cups your face, gently stroking it with his thumb. An angelic smile spreads upon his face, love and affection in his eyes. You whined as you continue riding him, trying to chase your own high while helping him with his, picking up the pace.

You were still moving a bit too slowly for his liking so he thrusted his hips to match your movements. It sent shivers down your spine and you moan deliciously.

"Baby, I can't- ah- Jin..." you pant, bouncing and grinding on his cock, just then realizing how close you actually were. You expected the stop, but it didn't make it any easier. Your boyfriend stopped his movements and held your hips firm, causing your body to convulse.

Seokjin sat up quickly, hugging and kissing your face profusely. "You did such a good job, ______." he said, his apologies in the form of kisses. He tucked a stray hair behind your ear. "You were so pretty bouncing on my cock like that."

You sigh and smiled weakly at him, "Can I rest?" you asked meekly.

You hear him genuinely laugh. His friends always said that his laugh sounded like windshield wipers. But to you, it sounded like wind chimes dancing in the summer.

Seokjin grabbed you and laid you down on the bed gently. He turned to his side and stroked your hair. You faced him, a content smile on your face as you also stroke his cheek.

"I love you."

The sudden confession made you halt. You knew Seokjin meant it. However, he does not say I love you very often. He shows his love with physical touch and "have you eaten?" questions that make you feel so happy he cared. But hearing him say he loved you almost made you cry. Almost. You had enough tears for the day.

"I love you too, darling."

You scoot closer to kiss him, tongue asking permission to enter. He groans when they collide. Your spare hand moved down and stroked his softening cock gently but he sprung up instantly.

"I kinda blue-balled you, sorry," you broke the kiss sheepishly. Seokjin just chuckled and continued the kiss, moving on top of you.

“Are you okay for more?” he asked, back to his usual self.

You nodded enthusiastically.

His cock slid in effortlessly, your pussy already wet and stretched out enough to take him in without any discomfort. Pleasure caused your body to groan. You wanted so badly to come.

He held up both your legs and toyed with your clit. He was able to thrust easily into you. He started out slow, making sure that you were actually okay before it turned manic, his cock going in and out of you with such force.

You whined when his thumb pushed harder on your clit, feeling your walls clench at his huge dick.

His cock going deeper and deeper inside you combined with him touching your clit was all it took. You were suddenly right there, at the edge of pleasure before you snap. You yell his name, your voice getting increasingly higher. You look at him with desperate eyes.

"Cum on my cock, ____," he groaned, marveling at how tight you were getting.

He kept the pace and soon, you were moaning his name, your juices creaming his cock. You loved being filled. You were so full as your walls clenched around him.

A few more hard thrusts and he joined you in pleasure. "Ah- _____," he moaned out as your walls were painted white. You winced when you thought Seokjin was going to fall on top of you, though he caught himself at the last second.

He slid out of you with a hiss and ran to get a towel to clean you up. After he was done, the towel was placed in the laundry basket, along with all the clothes that were discarded from the floor. You roll your eyes, knowing how neat your boyfriend was.

He plopped right next to you and you cuddled closer, throwing an arm over his muscled abdomen.

"Hi," he sighed out in bliss, tucking another strand of hair behind your ear. "Happy one year anniversary of living together, my dear."

His head dipped towards your and you both nuzzle your nose at each other. "Happy one year, Jin."

"So," he started, clearing his throat. "I can tell you liked getting spanked. Push my buttons some more and maybe it'll happen more often," he laughed at his own comment., waggling his eyebrows at your direction.

This time, it was you who were at a loss for words. You shook your head, rolling your eyes before snuggling so close to him. You found the perfect spot on his chest, as always, pulling the blankets towards the both of you.

He removed himself from underneath you and stared seriously into your eyes. "I know I don't say it enough,"-- you smiled as you notice his ears turning red again-- "but I meant what I said. I do, love you, ____." He held your gaze and you found the strength to sit up slightly to kiss him.

"I know, Jin. This was enough. You are enough."

You've never seen him so giddy and he kissed your forehead again, finally settling down.

"Good night, Kim Seokjin. I’ll clean the food in the morning," you say drowsily.

"Don’t worry, let me get it. Good night, soon-to-be Kim _____," he whispered. You heard the comment but you were tired to ask what he meant. In the morning, you thought to yourself. I'll deal with that in the morning.

When you finally slept, soft snores filling the room, Seokjin got up, carefully detangling him from your arms. You protest slightly but rolled over, not waking up. He padded softly to the kitchen to put the food away. Washing his hands, he looked to the bedroom once more to make sure you were indeed asleep, before opening his briefcase.

Inside, there was a small blue box and Seokjin opened it gingerly, fearing the worst. He sighed in relief as the band reflected a light coming from outside, still intact even though he dropped it earlier. He closed the small box and placed it back in his briefcase.

Seokjin came back to the room to find you had gotten up, hands rubbing your eyes. “Where did you go?”

“Bathroom and grabbed a glass of water,” he lied casually, praying that you didn’t see anything, his heart hammering in his chest.

You mumbled something and he sighed in relief, putting on a pair of boxers before snuggling you close, kissing your forehead.

All characters depicted in this fic are 18+ and fictional.

Any resemblance is just a work of fiction.

Posted on 04.13.2021 at 11:11am GMT+7.

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