#what the fuck! to not pretend. to not pay the slightest lip service even to the idea that this is for a reason. and to do it with impunity

[anonymusbosch]

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[221bshrlocked]

taste you on my tongue

Pairing: The Mandalorian (Din Djarin) x Reader

Words: 9441 (I can’t fucking write anything shorter I’m sorry)

Warnings: Angst and Smut. Helmet is on and then it’s off. Oral (male receiving). Soft then rough sex. Breeding kink. Touch kink. Hand kink? Dirty/Sweet Talk. Mando feels primal when he sees you wearing his shirt and flirting with someone that isn’t him.

Summary: The Revenant was a fairly spacious gunship compared to others and you prided yourself in keeping it running for this long, especially after you were told it would soon lose its “life force.” But when a certain Mandalorian and his foundling join your ship following a disastrous mission, you find that the Revenant isn’t as big as you initially thought. In fact, it is much less private than you wish to admit and you find yourself escaping to a cantina one night to avoid the bounty hunter who isn’t aware of the effect he has on you. The problem is, the Mandalorian doesn’t like to share anything with anyone, and that rule applies to you. Unfortunately (or perhaps luckily) for you, you learn about this rule the hard way.

A/N: I hope yall like these because I’m currently spiraling down a Din Djarin hole and I’m not remotely apologetic. Let me know how it is in the comments and how I can make the smut better or the characterization better. Please, I can’t improve unless yall tell me what I’m doing wrong. Also, I promise to write more smut than angst next time. Enjoy :) And @purple-mango​ sorry it wasn’t as rough as you probably hoped, I was feeling soft Din but mark my words, the next one will be rough.

The obnoxious laughter coming from one of the corners of the cantina made you shake your head as the tavern-keeper approached you and motioned towards your glass. He smiled when you enthusiastically nodded and held out the finished drink, silently asking him to pour some more of the Tevraki whiskey because there was nothing you wanted more than to forget the past few months.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. There was something, or rather someone, that you wanted more than your need to set aside what’s been going on since that shitshow of a showdown on Tatooine. Coincidentally, or perhaps ironically, that someone had to do with what happened on the desert planet. You smiled at the man in front of you who knew better than to argue about how many drinks you’ve downed thus far. 

As the thoughts slithered back to the source of your frustration, you couldn’t help but let your eyes take in your surroundings, shamelessly hoping to find someone who could fill that deep-seated need seeping through your chest and into your heart. No one would compare to him of course, and you knew that very well. But you couldn’t stand another hour on that ship without scratching that itch that’s been bothering you ever since he joined your ship with that annoyingly cute green goblin. You took a sip and returned your attention to the man wiping down the counter in front of you, already thinking of just skipping all the pleasantries and going back to his place.

“If you point him out to me, I can pay him a visit later and roughen him up a bit.” He leaned over and pointed behind you, pouring himself a shot of some weird blue drink before moving in closer to you again.

“Sorry?” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, not understanding what he was referring to or if you had even begun a conversation with him.

“The sleemo that rejected you sweetheart. Why else would you be drowning in my best stuff?” He winked at you and you barely managed to not visibly gag at the ways his eyes raked over your form. Did he think this was the way to flirt?

“Maybe I just love drinking liquid fire, sweetheart. Have you thought of that?” You hoped you weren’t being too sarcastic with him because if there was the slightest chance of getting laid tonight, then you were going to do everything in your power to take it and run considering how there was no chance of you asking your now-permanent “roommate” for those kinds of services. 

“Maybe. Either way, I’d love to help you forget about that sucker.” You took a deep breath and willed yourself to not punch him in the eye because the thought of being able to forget about the beskar-clad bounty hunter, even for a few hours only, sounded incredibly pleasant.

“Oh aren’t you sweet? So selfless and confident too.” You forced a smile before downing the rest of the whiskey and tapping on the glass again. If you were going to get fucked by someone like him, you needed at least three more drinks or else you wouldn’t be able to imagine the Mandalorian in his place. You chuckled at the depressing thought because here you were trying to forget about the man himself and yet went out of your way to make sure you were sort of able to pretend he was the one showing you the stars. 

“Believe me darling, my intentions are strictly...honorable.” He poured you another drink and took a shot with you, his eyes widening in shock when you didn’t bother to wait another second before downing the whole glass in one go. 

“Damn baby, he hurt you that bad?” You raised an eyebrow at his inquiry and didn’t know why the question bothered you so much. As much as you hated to admit it, the answer was a hard yes. 

“Hah, hurt doesn’t even begin to cover it. And you know what the worst part is? He doesn’t even know he’s doing it.” You didn’t bother to ask him for another drink, jumping on top of the counter before leaning down and grabbing the whiskey bottle from the shelf right in front of his knees. 

“You mean he’s still here?” He didn’t question your behavior, letting you take a long sip from the bottle before smiling down at your dazed expression. 

“Here. There. Everywhere. He’s fucking everywhere all the damn time. I...he’s- maker...I can’t get him out of my kriffing mind. And the funny thing is, he probably doesn’t waste a second of thought on me. I’m just...someone with a fucking ride that can get him from one planet to the next.” You traced random patterns on the cold tile of the counter and didn’t realize that someone had occupied the seat just opposite of you and trying his hardest to ignore the way the patrons across the room continued to stare at you like you were a piece of meat. 

“Darling, he isn’t worth your time. You need someone that...appreciates you. Tells you how good you’ve been.” You knew the man in front of you was just saying those lovely things to get in your pants but you couldn’t help the next few words from stopping even if you tried.

“Yes...gods, yes. Yes I do. But I wanted him to appreciate me. I wanted him to tell me how good I’ve been. I can’t blame him for not bothering to thank me though because it’s hard for him to hold a conversation longer than five minutes. I get that, he’s not used to it, he hasn’t needed to for so long. But it wouldn't hurt to acknowledge me every once in a while you know. I mean, do you know anyone else who’d willingly put their entire life on hold just to help some random introvert and his child find their way through this kriffing shithole of a system?” You knew you shouldn’t be saying any of those things out loud, let alone to a complete stranger. But he struck a nerve and you couldn’t take not another minute of not telling anyone how you truly felt. You needed to get some things off your chest and you sure as hell weren’t about to complain to the man waiting for you back on the ship.  

“And- and do you know anyone that would readily give up their most valuable position in this world to a stranger they just met? I don’t.” You violently shook your head at him and felt your eyes fill with tears when you saw the way the man was looking at you. His eyes shot down to the bottle in your hand and you unceremoniously raised it to your lips before taking a long swig of the burning liquid, hoping by some miracle that this was enough to make you forget all about his stupid strut and his annoyingly low and gruff voice and the way he was so effortlessly kind to the kid.

“That ship. It’s- oh gah, it’s been with me through the worst fucking jobs. I fought for it, almost sold my kriffing bo-...almost sold something priceless to ensure it isn’t taken from me again. And it only takes some damn beskar-wearing, quiet, fucking who-knows-what-species nerfherder to save me once for me to voluntarily hand it over to him. Like it wasn’t a piece of me...like it wasn’t my home.” You were over sharing at this point and you noticed the way the man was beginning to lose interest in you  so you made sure to grab his shirt and pull him closer to you before grabbing his forearm and digging your nails into it to keep his attention.

“Have you heard of the Revenant? You must have heard of the Revenant. There is no way you haven’t-”

“Yes, yes. I’ve heard of it.” He was exasperated but continued to attend to you, shamelessly letting his eyes follow a drop of whiskey roll down your shirt in between the valley of your breasts. You fixed your posture, pushing your tits together and giving him an eyeful of skin before ranting to him again.

“That’s my baby. My pride and joy. I always made sure everyone at the dock knew who it belonged to. Know why?” You grabbed his hand and pulled on it to make sure he was listening to you, laughing when he tiredly leaned down and forced himself to look away from your sweaty chest to your eyes. 

“Enlighten me sweetheart.”

“Because it’s one of the biggest gunships out there. So much space that I don’t actually use. It’s a fucking beauty...but you know what? It’s all a lie. A sad, unfortunate lie. Because it took me spending the better half of the year with that kid and his tincan of a guardian to realize just how small it is. It’s like he put his mark on every corner of my home on purpose...just to drive me insane. Every time I sit somewhere where I’m sure he wouldn’t bother to come to, I’d still smell that- that...that fucking scent of his that I can’t, for the life of me, figure out what it is.” You had thankfully placed the whiskey bottle away from you and didn’t try to fight the tavern-keeper when he took it and put it back on the shelf, instantly returning to you to make sure you weren’t about to break anything.

“I even gave him my room. My room! Because ‘no one can see my face’ so he needs some privacy away from me but then there’s the whole ‘the child stays with me all the time’ and that womp rat can sleep in the little cot in my room with him while also giving him some privacy. Which leaves me, you guessed it, in the shitty lower deck where there is no door, not even a curtain, to give me some semblance of solitude.” You didn’t realize how harshly you were breathing until you stopped speaking and noticed the way the stranger continued to look at you. 

“It has been a literal hell not being able to get myself off because he can walk in on me at any given moment. Picture that, not getting off for almost a year while being forced to remain in the same vicinity as him.” You didn’t care when you saw the man almost choke on his drink at your bold admission and looked around to make sure no one heard you. “Ughh, you’ve been such a good boy listening to me whining all night long and I think you deserve a treat.” You knew you had him as soon as he shivered at the way your fingers moved beneath his shirt and scratched his neck. “You look like the kind of guy that could fuck me within an inch of my life. Right?”

“Ah huh. Y-yeah.” He licked his lips before setting down the towel in his hands and inching closer towards you. And you silently swore at how absolutely pathetic he was because not a minute ago, he was trying to find a way out of this conversation and here he was thinking with his probably-disappointing dick. 

“Good. And I promise to make it worth your while if you manage to make me forget his name.” You leaned across the counter and were about to kiss him when you saw something move across your peripheral vision, something that looked oddly familiar to your completely hazed mind. 

“And what’s his name, baby? So I make sure you can’t rememb-” Before he could finish whatever he was about to say, you felt a large hand wrap around your upper arm and pull you back from the bartender and off of the stool. You almost tripped as you struggled to stand and huffed in anger before raising your voice to the distinguished individual who thought this was the time to fuck with you. 

“Hey what are y-” You were about to take a swing at whoever it was currently bruising your arm when you followed the glint of the familiar metal and were met with your reflection staring right back at you. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you blinked in confusion a few times at the visor currently tilted in an almost judgemental manner at you before attempting to wipe your hair with your other hand.

The Mandalorian slowly changed his focus to the man behind the bar and threw a few credits at him, hands immediately lowering to the blaster in his side holster when he saw where the tavern-keeper’s eyes moved towards. The stranger could only hold up his hand in defeat before walking towards the other side of the bar to lick his invisible wounds. The Mandalorian’s helmet turned to the rest of the cantina, daring anyone to approach the two of you before you left. The last thing he wanted was for anyone to follow the two of you as you returned to the Revenant. He could feel his patience withering away with every passing moment you decided to share what’s on your mind with the rest of the universe but him. 

“Let me go.” You whispered to him, eyes maintained to the ground and cringing when you felt his hold on your arm tighten at the request. Before you could ask him again, Mando was turning around and walking out of the busy cantina, pulling you along with him aggressively and not leaving any room for negotiation. You winced as he pulled you like a child through the streets, avoiding the concerned and intrigued looks you were receiving. He was much taller than you and you laughed when you realized it must have been a sight to see some random woman getting dragged along by an angry bounty hunter. Mando couldn’t help but turn towards you when he heard your giggles break the silence, his annoyance spiking because there was absolutely nothing humorous about this situation. 

You noticed the way he was staring at you and decided to quiet down, swallowing the lump in your throat as the cold air hit your sweaty skin and made you shiver. 

As you moved closer to the ship, you realized there was a chance he heard what you had to say about him and your ship. Hurt and anxiety rose up your throat and before you could attempt and control the all too familiar feeling, you were tripping over your feet and falling to the ground, instantly vomiting everything you’d managed to eat and drink in the last couple of hours. 

The Mandalorian hoped his obviously misplaced outrage wasn’t what led you to such a violent reaction, and he kneeled down immediately to hold your hair away from your face. When he saw tears falling down your cheeks and how hard you were breathing beneath him, something snapped in his chest and he knew he was definitely the reason behind this severe response. 

“Don’t- oh gah….kriffing look at me.” You spat in between words and turned away from him, holding onto your stomach and to the grass beneath you as you continued to empty your stomach in the middle of the forest. At least you weren’t in the city anymore. 

“We’re close to the ship,” he didn’t know what else to say and chose to state the obvious instead, afraid of using a harsher tone with you. Actually, he did know what to say, he just didn’t trust himself to speak the words out loud yet.

“Wopty fucking doo for-” once again, you opened your mouth and dry heaved until you were sure there wasn’t a single drop of whiskey in your system, “you and your stupid kriffing-” 

“Please Ad'ika, let me-” You visibly shook at the familiar endearment you’ve heard him whisper to the child so often when he thought you weren’t around. It hurt to know he was throwing it around as if he wasn’t twisting the knife inside your heart with every breath he took near you. 

“Let m-me go, p-please.” Mando’s sudden intake of breath was as loud as the silence engulfing the two of you and you swallowed your pride before looking into his visor, well aware of how awful you must have looked without the reflection staring back at you. He, on the other hand, grasped in that moment just how deep your words in the cantina were and instead of listening to you and allowing you a moment alone, he took a deep breath before softly pushing back your hair and wrapping one arm around your waist. You didn’t have any time to question him as the other went beneath your thighs and before you knew it, you were holding onto his cowl for dear life as he quietly walked up the ramp of the Revenant with you in his arms. 

Mando pushed in the code to shut the hatch before making his way through the quiet halls of the ship, reaching hi- your room and going straight to the bed he has occupied in the last few months. As he put you down, he took notice of your body language and knew instantly how self-conscious you must have felt laying on the bed he’s been using since he joined you. The same bed which you sort of commented about not an hour ago. He watched as you forced a smile as soon as you saw the familiar green little womp rat peeking its head right before descending from the safety of his crib and wobbling towards you. 

You tried to leave the bed but Mando was ahead of you, gently pushing your shoulder until you realized there was no room for arguing with him. Leaning down, he took the kid and put him back in the crib before telling him he couldn’t cuddle with you tonight. 

You kept your hands clasped together and refused to look at him, eyes taking in the room no longer familiar to you. He’d moved things around, even put things away that he didn’t need. Your gaze shifted towards him unintentionally as you saw him approach you with a cup of water and wet towel. Pushing the covers towards you, he sat near your thighs as he handed you the water and began to softly wipe at your cheeks and forehead. 

You shut your eyes out of fear of giving more away just by staring at his visor and Mando thanked the stars you had because he wasn’t sure he could truly look at you if they were still open. It was a ridiculous thought because he was wearing a mask and you’d never know how much he loved committing all those little muscle twitches to memory. But it felt strangely intimate to return your gaze and he didn’t want to make you any more uncomfortable tonight. 

You sighed heavily at his touch and felt pathetic at how starved you were for anything that had to do with him. The man was wearing gloves and wasn’t technically trailing his fingers over your skin but it still felt difficult to contain yourself.

When he was done, he stood up and moved to the refresher, giving you a few moments alone before he imposed on you again. You gulped down the water and placed the cup on the floor near you, looking out of the large window to your right and noticing the dark blue skies moving slowly above you. It took you a few minutes to recognize that what you were feeling was no longer hurt but confusion. He’s acted so differently tonight and you hated to think it was because he was pitying you. It didn’t matter anymore whether he’d heard what you said about him or not. He would have found out sooner or later, and if you were being honest, you felt like he probably had some inclination for a while before but chose to not bring any attention to the topic to save you from embarrassment and rejection.

“Get some rest.” You turned towards him again, not realizing he’d come back into the room and was standing right beside you. Mando tried his hardest not to give away any of his thoughts but you knew what he was thinking as soon as you saw his helmet tilt down just below your neck. 

When you followed his line of sight, you felt ill again but for a completely different reason. Of course this would get worse. You weren’t planning on seeing him tonight and you told yourself you’d have plenty of time to change out of his shirt but it seemed that the universe was not making this any easier on you. Mando couldn’t stop staring at the shirt wrapped so loosely around your smooth skin and how large it looked on you. If he was a decent man, he would have turned away when he saw you shifting uncomfortably under his gaze but he couldn’t help taking in the way your body seemed to react to his presence and before he could think about it, he was stepping closer to the bed and reaching out to touch the material of his shirt falling down your shoulder.

“I- I’m sorry about your s-” The words died in your throat when you felt his gloved fingers trailing down your exposed clavicle and you were torn between asking him what he was doing and letting him carry on without interrupting his curiosity. Mando barely held himself back from pushing you down into the covers and taking what he now knew was his but he noticed the sudden goosebumps erupt on your skin and finally managed to meet your eyes through the visor. The way you were returning his gaze was perhaps too much for him and he flinched away from you, clearing his throat and willing himself to think of anything else but the way you were practically begging him to take you. You parted your lips to say something but couldn’t find your voice, afraid you’d push him more than he could take and drive him away all together. 

“It’s fine. It’s...I don’t mi- forget about it. You need to rest.” He spoke softly before walking towards the cot nearby and pushing the crib out of the door. 

“Wh-where will you sleep?” You sat up and knew he noticed how much you were holding onto every single interaction with him.

“Good night,” he didn’t bother to respond to the question, turning off the lights and shutting the door behind him before making his way to the cockpit. You sat in silence for a few moments before slithering under the covers, sighing in annoyance when you noticed just how much this entire room smelled like him. Pushing your face into the pillow, you took a deep breath and felt shaken to the core when you were hit with Mando’s distinctive scent: sweat, beskar, and that damn featherfern wash he somehow found every time you flew by Nevarro. 

As you looked out the metal blinds, you tried to brace yourself for the conversation you were most definitely going to have with the Mandalorian the next day. You knew for a fact that whatever decision he’d take will ultimately hurt you because there were really only two options available, one of which involved him and the child leaving and the other would lead to them staying but making things awkward since there was not a single chance he would reciprocate your feelings. 

And the worst part was, you weren’t sure which was more painful.

The Mandalorian sat quietly in the cockpit for a while, making sure you were asleep so as to not wake you up as he moved through the Revenant. Seeing that the kid was fast asleep, he found himself leaving the small space and navigating to the lower deck. He passed by your room and noticed the lights were off, sighing in relief at knowing that you were finally resting comfortably. Arriving at the lower deck, he stood at the entrance of the large room and felt his chest tighten once he took in the state of the space. Turning on the lights, he immediately noticed your makeshift cot in the far right corner, unable to stop himself from moving towards it to inspect it. He shook his head in anger but this time it was aimed at himself and not you or the random tavern keeper who couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. 

How did he not know of this arrangement? And why did he not ask about your sleeping situation the day he joined your ship? Was he truly that unconcerned with anyone else but the kid or was it because he was reluctant to listen to Peli when she recommended you?

He’d only been in the lower deck for a few moments yet he felt his skin crawl with goosebumps. It was awfully cool down here and it took him another ten seconds to acknowledge that you’ve been living and sleeping here for this long without complaining once to him. 

Everything you said about him earlier tonight crashed into him like a wave of guilt and he couldn’t stay in the room any longer, making his way back to the upper deck to try and figure out what he would say to you come tomorrow. As he slowly moved through the dark hallways of the Revenant, he heard a faint voice coming from the upper deck, muscles tensing instantly when he walked past your room and noticed you weren’t on the bed.

Not wanting to disturb you, he waited right outside the cockpit and listened to you humming to the child. He must have woken up and found his way back to you. As he crossed his arms and stood behind the door, he couldn’t help but notice how soft your voice was as you continued to sing a lullaby to the little womp rat. 

How could he have not noticed…

“There you go, you little green goblin. If only I could sleep as quickly as you.” You whispered to him before tucking him into the crib while continuing to rub his abnormally large ears. “Your dad is really funny...thinking I’d be able to sleep in that room with his scent all over it.” 

Maker, how were you so forthright with everyone but him? It hurt to know that he wasn’t someone you could whisper your little secrets to. Then again, it made sense since all of your secrets seemed to involve him.

“I pray he doesn’t tell me he has to leave now that he knows I...ughh, for both of our sakes little one.” Mando noticed the way you seemed incapable of finishing your sentences whenever you spoke about him and a deep part of him wished you would, if only to hear the adoration in your words. Rarely anyone spoke of him so softly and he had a feeling he’d only ever accept such words from you. It was quiet for a few minutes before he heard you whisper to the kid again. 

“It just hurts to know that he’ll never see me as...as a-” He wasn’t sure if it was the heartbreaking tone of your voice or if it was the way you were reluctant to say your heart’s desire out loud but Mando couldn’t stand another second of you thinking you weren’t important to him.

“As a what?” His voice came out harsher through the vocoder and he winced at himself when he vaguely heard you jumping from the chair. A soft hiss came from the cockpit and he took a deep breath when he realized you’d just shut the crib and moved to leave the room. As you stepped out, Mando forced his eyes to remain on your face, refusing to look at your exposed legs or the way his shirt seemed to end right beneath your upper thighs.

Softly shutting the door, you walked to the opposite side of the room and knew the Mandalorian must have noticed your need to put as much space between the two of you as possible. 

“We need to stop running into each other like this,” you laughed awkwardly and anxiously ringed your fingers, glancing at his visor before turning away and looking everywhere else but him. Okay, so humor wasn’t going to get you out of this situation. 

“How’s your head?” You could feel how on edge he was and decided to answer with short and straightforward responses just to avoid any more awkwardness. 

“M-much clearer.” You stood in silence until you heard the Mandalorian pushing off of the opposite wall and heading towards you. You didn’t have anywhere to go, eyes snapping to the door right behind him and knowing there was no way you could try to walk around him.

He stopped a couple of feet away from you and you ceased to breathe when you noticed how awfully close he was to you. 

“Answer my question.” His voice was dangerously low and you found it difficult to try and think of anything to say when he was giving you no room to breathe. 

“I- I did?” Your voice was far from confident and you watched as he gently took off both of his gloves before shoving them into his pockets. Even though he willingly removed them in front of you, you didn’t allow yourself to look at his skin, afraid you’d somehow offend him and his Creed. But then you saw his hand move towards your face, and gasped when you felt his fingers tilting your chin so you were looking into his visor. There was not an inclination of an emotion available to you but you forced yourself to keep your eyes open nonetheless. 

“How do you want me to see you Mesh'la?” Mando whispered down to you and you swore his voice was hoarse as he spoke to you but you didn’t allow this moment to get to your head. It would hurt more than anything if…

“It d-doesn’t matter.” You blinked away the tears, wanting to wipe your face before anymore were shed but not finding it in yourself to move away from him. But then you felt his thumb softly rubbing at your wet skin, making you almost lose your composure as soon as he stepped closer in your space until your back hit the wall. 

“I’m sorry Cyar'ika,” his chest was inches from your face, cornering you beneath his other arm before leaning down and resting his forehead against yours. You couldn’t breath, not when he was suddenly filling all of your senses as if it was the most natural thing to do. He felt your tears roll around his thumb and couldn’t bear the thought of you crying because of him.

“I’m sorry for making you think you don’t matter...you do, not just to the kid but- but to me as well.” Your knees gave out on you as soon as you heard Mando’s confession, barely managing to grab onto his forearms right before buckling against him. The Mandalorian wasn’t sure if that was the kind of reaction he was looking for but he immediately wrapped his arms around your back and legs before pulling you against his chest. You nuzzled into his chest and kept a tight hold on him as he walked through the dimly lit hallways back to your room. He could feel goosebumps take over the skin of your thighs where he was touching you and tried to distract himself from pushing you down into the middle of the Revenant and taking you right then and there. You deserved more than that. 

As he reached the room and laid you on the bed, he felt your fingers clasp onto him harder and when his eyes trailed over your face, he knew you were silently begging him not to leave. 

“I’m not going anywhere Ad'ika.” His reassuring tone tugged at your heart and you swallowed the lump in your throat as you watched him walk to the door and shut it behind him before moving to the refresher. You heard him shuffle around and allowed your mind to calm down, knowing very well that Mando wasn’t unkind and wouldn’t lead you on just to leave you. But then he walked out without his beskar armor and you swore you died and joined the stars. His helmet looked odd without his normal clothing and you knew he could probably see you shamelessly ogling him from across the room. 

He walked to you and stood to the side, and you realized he was probably nervous. You pushed yourself against the wall and threw back the covers, hoping he’d understand what you wanted of him.

“Can I-”

“Please.” You cut him off before he could finish his question and he took a deep breath before laying on the bed and moving as close to you as possible. Before he could throw the covers over the two of you, you were already laying your head on his chest and wrapping an arm around him, fingers fisting into the soft material of his shirt unintentionally as you felt him relax beneath you.

You weren’t sure how long it’s been but you felt his heart rate finally come back to normal. Hoping you weren’t being too forward with him, you took his hand into yours and brought it to your lips, softly kissing his knuckles before turning his palm over to lay a kiss on his wrist. Mando was losing every ounce of control left in his body and his arm tightened around your back as soon as he felt the tip of your tongue against his hand. 

“Pfassk,” you flinched at the rough expletive and raised your head to look at him, finding his visor already tilted down towards you. “I- I’m sorry I’ll stop if-”

“No..n-no, don’t stop. It just- you took me by surprise.” His chest was rising and falling more rapidly and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was as affected by this new level of ‘intimacy’ as you were, if not more.

You felt bold at his request, kicking the covers away before sitting up and moving to straddle his thighs. Mando was breathing harshly and mirrored your actions, sitting up against the cool metal of the wall before laying his hands on top of your exposed thighs. He let himself take in the way your skin flushed under his touch and smiled to himself when he continued to inch his smooth hands over your upper thighs until his shirt rid up your legs and revealed the pastel color of your undergarment. 

“Cyar'ika…” He sighed when he finally forced himself to meet your eyes and found them dilated until there was barely any color left in them. You wanted to ask him what that word meant but chose to file it for later. Placing your hands on top of his, you smiled down at him before pulling them towards your lips and kissing his palms. Almost instantly, you felt him twitch against you, unable to control himself from bucking his hips against your heated core. You let go of his hands and laid your own on his chest, throwing your head back when you felt his tight grip on your thighs. You could tell he wanted to apologize but gave him no chance to do so, sliding against him until you were sure he was painfully hard beneath you.

“Maker...I- I could almost taste you on my tongue Mando. When you- you left me in here all by myself. I couldn’t sleep, n-not when I could smell you on these covers, not when I could feel you on my skin. I..gods, wanted to kiss you then, and- and I wanted to taste your- you...Please, c-can I? P-please-” You dug your nails into his chest and heard him throw his head back against the wall with every confession you moaned to him. He was never this unhinged and you wished to see him come absolutely undone at your touch.

“A-are you sure?” It pained him to ask but he needed to be sure that you wouldn’t regret this. Regret him. 

“Mando, have you not listened to anything I’ve said tonight?” As much as you hated to remind him of the earlier and rather embarrassing events, you wanted him to know just how much he meant to you. You knew he was reluctant to let this relationship move forward and you couldn’t really blame him. This was all new to him. But you also didn’t want to stall, not when the two of you have become so aware of the other’s feelings.

You continued to rub yourself on him, shaking with anticipation when you heard him moan through the vocoder as you pressed yourself more confidently down on him. 

“Mesh'la I-” Without warning, you took one of his hands and pushed it to your lips, slowly taking two of his fingers into your mouth and swirling your tongue around them until his moans grew louder. And when he pushed his fingers deeper into your mouth, you gripped his wrist tightly and groaned, making sure he could feel how much you wanted him. 

“Y-you’re killing me sweet girl.” He wanted to loosen his hold on you, to take things slow, to not let himself get carried away with you, but he didn’t find it in himself to be gentle because he could feel how wet and needy you were above him and there was no way he was going to waste another second not being close to you.

“Please Mando, I want you, n-need to have you. I can make you feel so good. Please, can I?” You reached down and cupped him through his pants, finding him as hard as the beskar of his armor. He thrust up into your hand and swore violently before taking his hand away from your mouth and fisting it into your hair. You smiled when you felt him push you off of him, whispering something in Mando’a when he saw you pulling his pants down his thighs and throwing them behind you. 

You bit your lower lip before moving off of the bed and pushing his legs along with you as well. Mando sat up and forced his hands to remain by his side, afraid his enthusiasm would make him get too rough with you and scare you away. When you laid your hands on his knees and pushed them wide open so you could get comfortable between his legs, Mando’s hands tightened around the covers and he hissed when he saw the way you were eyeing his cock. You were staring at him like he was a piece of meat and he wasn’t sure if he loved it or was embarrassed by it. 

“Maker,” you whispered before dragging your nails up and down his thighs, watching as his cock twitched against his stomach every time you got a little aggressive with your touches. Looking up into his visor, you slowly leaned down and took the tip of his cock in your mouth, humming around him as you tasted precum leaking into your taste buds. That seemed to do it for him because one of his hands shot to the back of your head and fisted into your hair while the other moved down until it landed on your hand. He intertwined his fingers with yours and watched as you pulled back and licked the underside of his dick before spitting into your hand and wrapping it around him.

“M-mando, the taste of you,” you took as much of him in your mouth as possible while maintaining eye contact with his helmet, squeezing the base of his cock before reaching down and cupping his balls. Mando swore, involuntarily thrusting into your mouth and watching in awe as he saw a dangerous glint in your eyes right before you clasped his hand harder and somehow managed to take him in deeper. It was such a sight, holding affectionately onto your hand as you brought him to pleasure. Letting go of him with a pop, you laid wet kisses down the length of his cock, licking the protruding veins and smiling when you felt his hold tighten on your hair. “Is absolutely addicting.” 

You could tell the exact second he lost all semblance of control because one minute you were kneeling at his feet, and the next thing you knew, Mando was pulling you up by your hair and throwing you beneath him on the bed. You wiped your lips with the back of your hand, watching his muscles flex as he removed his shirt expertly over his helmet. The soft starlight coming through the metal blinds of the window shone onto his skin and you trailed your gaze down his chest, finding the golden brown tone of his scarred body absolutely breathtaking. 

“Mando, you’re beautiful.” You saw his hands begin to shake at your compliment, and you knew you’d take every chance you get from now on to tell him how much you adored him. You could hear him breathing through the mask and licked your lips when he looked down and saw the way you were playing with the hem of his shirt. Slowly, you began to pull on the soft material, about to take it off when he held onto your wrists. Your smile faltered for a second and hoped you didn’t somehow misunderstand his intentions.

The last thing Mando wished to see was your body giving away to shyness before him. Pushing your thighs open, he didn’t give you a chance to say anything else as he slid his fingers below the thin undergarment, violently ripping it off of you and discarding it onto the floor. You gasped when you felt him hard and heavy against your slit, taking both of his hands and pulling him towards you until he was only a hairbreadth away. He watched closely as you placed one hand around your throat while the other descended to your breast. You could tell Mando was reluctant to move so much an inch and when you pushed yourself against him, eyes daring him to do as he wishes, he found himself completely overtaken with the thought of you belonging to him and him only. You smiled when you felt the grip on your throat tighten, shutting your eyes and arching your back against him as the other cupped and pinched at your nipples through his shirt. 

“If you want me to fuck you tonight, Mesh'la, then you’re going to keep my shirt on.” He could feel you shaking in his arms and smiled to himself at the knowledge of how much he affected you. 

“Mando, please…” You would have continued begging him if he asked you to, but then he was moving away from you and leaning towards the window. Keeping your hands clasped to your chest, you watched as he shut the blinds until there wasn’t a single light shining into the room. You could barely see your own hands in the dark and wondered why he was shuffling above you. A soft hissing sound had you tensing in an instant and you ceased to breathe when you heard the faint sound of beskar hitting the ground. 

“M-mando?” The question was more reluctant than inquisitive and you didn’t have time to react as you felt him lean against you until you were touching every inch of his skin. You blinked a few times in vain, knowing there was no way you would be able to see anything. But then you felt something soft brush against your cheek and as you turned your head towards him, Mando was molding his lips with yours, swallowing your gasps and sucking on your tongue as soon as you melted into him. He pulled away against his own will, but not before pushing your jaw with his nose until your neck was available to him.

“And my name is Din sweet girl, Din Djarin. It better be the only word you scream tonight as I fuck this pretty little cunt. Understood?” You weren’t sure if it was his deep voice that made you speechless or the fact that he not only took off his helmet for you but willingly told you his name as well. You committed it to memory, hoping this wouldn’t be the only time he took off his helmet around you. You’d always wondered what he sounded like without it, not comprehending that it could be so much sweeter than what you’ve dreamed of. And by the gods, his lips. How were they so soft and gentle? Maker, he had a stubble too, not a rough one but just long enough to tickle your neck as he kissed and nipped at your clavicle.

“Answer me Ad'ika.” He bit your shoulder to grab your attention once more, chuckling above you when you nodded frantically against him. 

“You’re so soft Cyar'ika, I- I want to kiss every inch of your skin.” As much as you loved making him lose his mind at your touch, you had to admit you enjoyed him much more when he was in control. You smiled when he kissed along your shoulder before pushing down his shirt far enough to expose your breasts. Din bit down on his lower lip to contain himself, but then you were arching your back and pushing yourself into him and he couldn’t hold back. He kissed down your sternum, waiting until you relaxed in his arms before assaulting your nipples. You screamed his name as you felt his teeth tug on your nipple, hands shooting to his hair when you felt him grope and pull on the other. 

“Din, oh ma-maker- your mouth is...f-fuck.” You could tell he was smiling as he aggressively licked the hardened bud before sucking on it again. Din pushed his cock against your wet slit, growling when you pulled on his hair and cried his name like a sweet prayer. 

“I could smell your cunt sweet girl, so fucking wet and hot and ready for me.” Din pulled back and cornered you between his arms, bucking his hips into you until you were a needy and moaning mess beneath him. “Woke up countless times in this bed...hard and aching at the mere thought of you...d-dreaming of having you in my arms, wanting to sink into you, f-fuck you on every inch of this ship.” 

“Din, please...I need you.” 

The way you clawed at his back broke him and before he knew what he was doing, he was flipping you on your stomach and raising your hips against him.

“I need to have you Mesh'la.” Din leaned down and swiped your hair to the side, whispering the filthiest things in your ears as he took hold of his cock and rubbed it against your heat. 

“I’m yours Din, do what you want. Fuck me, ruin me...cum in me if you wish. Just p-please-”

You made it sound so simple, trusting him. It was an odd feeling to know how easily you were giving yourself to him. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, not after what you said tonight. But something about the way you offered yourself to him, especially with that last request, had him seeing stars.

Leaning down until his chest was sliding against your back, the Mandalorian held you against him with one arm across your front while he slowly slipped into your wet cunt. You sighed in unison, and Din felt a sense of pride fill his chest when you dug your nails into his arm while your legs began to shake beneath him.

“You’re a dream Cyar'ika, the best f-fucking dream I could ever have. And you’re all mine.”

“Y-yes, yours. I’ve always been yours, oh gods Din please, move. M-move.” You were babbling at this point but couldn’t find it in yourself to care, turning your head to the side just to feel him breathe against your cheek. His stubble rubbed deliciously at your heated and sensitive skin, and you would tell him later that you hoped he’d mirror those actions but elsewhere.

“So tight darling, I- you’re everything. The things I- uhhh, the thing I want to do to you.” Din achingly pulled out before snapping into you again, biting down on your shoulder when you clenched violently around him. 

“Din, oh Din-” You wished you could tell him how good he felt, how much he filled you, how often you craved having him inside you and how much you were losing it now that he was. But you couldn’t find a single word, not when he was fucking you like you were it for him.

The normally quiet man was groaning and hissing above you, pulling you along with him as he sat up and continued to fuck you relentlessly. You reached back and held his head against your neck, crying in pain and pleasure when he picked up the pace and his hold on your hip tightened. You were sure there would be bruise marks the next day but you couldn’t tell him to slow down or be a little less aggressive, not when you finally had him where you’ve wanted for so long. 

“Fuck, fuck….sweet girl, did- did you mean it?” He was asking you something and you didn’t really pay attention to him, focusing on the way he deliciously dragged against your tight walls over and over again. Din knew it wasn’t fair to ask you anything right now but he had to know. Needed to.

He stopped his movement all together, sinking as deep into you as possible and tightening his grip on your throat. 

“Pfassk...answer me darling.” Din whispered into your ears and reached down to where you were joined, softly slapping your clit until you twitched and begged him to repeat his words again.

“I said, did you fucking mean it when- kriffing hell, when you said I could...c-cum in you?” He was reluctant to ask but there was no point in denying either of you. 

“Yes, gods yes. I told you Din, d-do what you want with me.” You forcibly loosened the fingers around your throat and brought them to your lips, biting the palm of his hand as he resumed thrusting into you. 

“Mesh'la...you’re such a sweet girl, letting me b-breed you...taking my cock so well, letting me fill you up. You were made for me darling. This cunt, this sweetest and tightest kriffing pussy was made for my cock.” He pronounced each word with a harsh push of his hips and you smiled when you heard how low his voice suddenly became. The sounds of skin slapping on skin filled the room and you hoped the child wouldn’t wake up from how loud the two of you were being. 

“You’re mine darling. Won’t let anyone else touch you...fucking look at you even. Maker I- I almost lost it tonight in the cantina.” There was a hint of self-consciousness in his words and you hoped he didn’t think you could ever replace him.

“D-din..” You wanted to tell him no one else would compare but he didn’t give you a chance. 

“Talking about me like I- fuck, like I didn’t care about you, like I don’t picture you coming on my cock every waking moment of my day. And flirting with him in my shirt...my kriffing shirt. I almost lost it when he put his hands on you sweet girl.” You weren’t sure if he had somehow become harder inside you or if it was his words that made you attuned to the feeling of him pushing into your cunt but you turned your head and kissed his cheeks, hoping he’d understand what you were trying to tell him with your touches. 

“You’re the only one f-for me.” Din let go of your neck and held onto your hips, no longer caring about how rough he was being with you. Your heavy sighs were the only warning he had right before your tight walls convulsed around his dick and he continued to fuck you through your orgasm, falling on top of you and bucking his hips slowly into your cunt until you begged him to slow down.

“Cyare, ah pfassk, that’s it. Keep squeezing me darling. I’m so close, so close. Ah fuck, you’re mine. Mine, not letting you go. N-never letting you go. Oh maker...ner runi...ner. Ner. Riduur. My sweet girl...riduur.” Din didn’t realize what he’d said until the words were left hanging in the air and he felt a rush of relief wash over him as he finally admitted how he felt about you. 

“Din, I lo- ahh gods please.” He silenced your screams with his hand, losing his rhythm as he came in hot spurts of cum inside you. Din bit down onto your shoulder just as you bit on the palm of his hand, continuing to push his seed deep inside you until he felt you a mixture of your juices seeping out of you. Neither of you moved for a few moments, relishing the way you fit so perfectly with each other. You could feel him breathing heavily against your back and smiled with pride when you realized you were the only one that got to see him like this. 

Din didn’t want to stop touching you, falling to the side and grabbing your flush to him only to hiss when you unintentionally clenched around his softening cock. You kissed his wrist as he pulled the covers over the two of you, not bothering to move a muscle mostly because you knew he didn’t wish for you to leave him.

He kissed along the bruised ridges of your shoulders, drawing circles on your navel and smiling when you giggled beneath him.

“I wasn’t too rough with you was I?” He asked embarrassingly, not knowing what he’d do if you said yes. 

“You were perfect Din...you- you are perfect.” You turned your head far enough in hopes of catching his attention, letting out a deep breath when he leaned over and captured your lips in a chaste kiss. He was so soft and you didn’t know which side of him you enjoyed more but you were sure you wanted to get to know him, all of him. His likes and dislikes.

“Far from it Mesh'la. I...I went to the lower deck and saw where you’ve been sleeping.”

“Oh…”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Din rose on his elbow, seeking your hands in the dark and holding onto your fingers as he raised your hand to his mouth and kissed along your hand. 

“I- I didn’t want to make you think you weren’t welcome. Peli told me about the Creed and well, there isn’t any sort of privacy down there really. And the kid would’ve been cold. I know how much he likes to cuddle next to you when he sleeps.” 

“But you’ve been-”

“I’ve slept in worse conditions, believe me.” He didn’t say anything else in response but you knew he was very much thinking about it. 

“Din, I wouldn’t change a single moment. Not one. Because each one led me here, to this bed, in your arms. I would relive every mission and every cold night and every awkward conversation again if I knew I’d end up here with you. You’re the closest thing I have to a..a-”

“Family.” He broke the silence before lying back down and pulling you as close to him as possible.

“Promise me you won’t get drunk by yourself in a cantina again.” You wished you didn’t laugh out loud at the random request because Din swore behind you before his grip loosened a bit.

“I’m sorry I...I didn’t mean to laugh. It’s just, here I am pouring my heart out and the only thing you could follow up with was that.” When he didn’t say anything in return, you grabbed his arm and pulled him back to you. “And yes, I promise not to get drunk in a cantina by myself ever again.”

“Good.”

“But I can’t really make any promises about not flirting with anyone because if it means I get to have you all hot and bothered then-”

“Sweet girl, you’re going to regret ever thinking of that…” 

Translations: 

Sleemo - This Huttese insult was pronounced slay-mo and translated as "slimeball," a rude insult.

Ad'ika - Little one

Mesh'la - Beautiful

Cyar'ika - Darling/Sweetheart

Pfassk - An adaptable expletive

Cyare - Beloved

Ner - Mine.

Runi - soul; only used poetically

Riduur - partner, spouse, husband/wife

[nialledfromfics]

The Dating Game | Chapter Eleven 

~~

His body felt like blazing fire under her fingertips. His skin, like the sweetest candy on her tongue. His breath, like the freshest ocean air in her lungs. Their sticky-wet bodies moved together, slowly then faster, then slow again, giggles being replaced by salacious moans with every shared soft touch and greedy roll of their hips. It was sensual and intimate and filthy and obscene, endlessly consuming each other until there was barely anything left, until their flesh was raw and scathed and their already strangling breaths were merely depleted. And neither would have traded it for the world. 

Niall had spent every single night at Joey’s apartment the two weeks following their life-changing revelation of feelings; walking Sadie for her in the mornings, queuing shows on her Netflix account that he thought she’d like, using her apple scented shampoo in the shower, and stealing the covers as he slept in her bed. The moment she got home at night, he was there, leaving again sometime after she had gone to work the next morning. She couldn’t keep her hands off of him, or her lips or her body. She didn’t want to. The way he looked at her, the way he smiled at her and touched her and the way he made her moan, it was all like a walking fever-dream that Joey feared would be over as fast as it began. But she tucked that tiny worry in the back of her head, focusing on the light in his blue eyes and the cute dimple that pressed in his cheek the moment he stepped through her front door every evening. 

The dusty gray hue of the rising sun bled past the cloudy sky, filtering through the blinds and into Joey’s bedroom. She was slotted against him, her back arching into his front as Niall lazily fucked into her from behind, his big hand gripping at her hip to keep her steady. Joey faintly moaned, biting harshly into her bottom lip as Niall sucked across the side of her neck. His tongue traced the pulsing vein, and Joey reached back to tangle her fingers into his dark hair, holding his mouth to her skin. By the time Niall had slipped his touch from her hip to between her legs, rubbing slowly at the tiny nub amongst her wet folds, Joey had let herself go, coming hard, and loud, around him. Niall eased himself to his own sweet and satisfying release, deep grunts spilling out across her trembling flesh. 

After catching her breath and Niall sliding himself from her swollen center, Joey brushed away at the hair sticking to her forehead in a sigh. “Every morning should be this good,” she softly mumbled, Niall chuckling as he sprawled out onto his back next to her and used the heels of both palms to rub the sleep from his eyes. 

“Are ya sayin’ it's not?” he teased, pushing an arm up under his head and peering over at her. 

Rolling her eyes, Joey turned her body over on her side to face him. “You know what I mean,” she shot back, tucking her hands between her cheek and the pillow. “It was just exceptionally good this morning.” 

Niall raised a brow and licked over his lips to contain the smirk that attempted to pull at the corner. “You’re welcome, my love.” 

Grabbing around his neck, Joey leaned over to push a kiss to his lips. “Thank you for your service.” 

“Shut up,” he choked out in a laugh, his eyes pinching shut. Smiling at him, Joey tenderly ran her fingernails through the scruffy beard that covered his jaw. Her light brown eyes trailed after her delicate movements. Niall just watched her, his stare swimming over her still flushed face and tangled mess of her red hair that fanned out over her pillow, his mind reeling in how gorgeous she looked like that. He breathed out a smile.  

“We should go out,” Joey then said, dropping her hand to rest on his bare chest as her eyes met his. 

Niall buckled his brows. “Go out?” 

“Yeah,” she said with a shrug of her one shoulder, “like on a date.” 

Turning his head to peer up at the ceiling, Niall took a moment to think as his fingers resting behind his head twisted in his hair. It was then that it dawned on him...she was right. Two weeks gone and they had barely even left her bedroom. He glanced back over at her. “You made me realize that I am a fuckin’ dickhead and haven’t taken ya out on a proper date yet,” he admitted, a slight look of remorse settling on his face.

Joey breathed out a tiny smile and rubbed her palm over his chest. “Babe, it's fine,” she assured him, “besides...it's kinda hard to go out on a date when you’re literally inside me 24/7…”

“Fair enough,” he snorted, “but ya know, we could not do that thing for at least a few hours and do the proper goin’ out on a date thing instead.” 

She heartily chuckled, her nose scrunching up as she pushed the side of her face into the pillow. “But I really like that thing...,” she started as she peeked back over at him, “but to be honest, I was kinda wondering when you were gonna ask me…”

“Ask ya out on a date?” 

“Yeah, well, I mean…” Joey paused and flicked her stare over to her window. She pulled in a low breath. “We are dating, right? I mean...I know we haven’t, like, defined anything or whatever, but–”

Joey’s words cut short as she felt the heat of Niall’s hand slide under the covers to rest on her thigh. His thumb rubbed small circles into her skin and her gaze caught his once more. “Yeah, petal,” he said softly, “we’re datin’.”

She sheepishly bit down at her lip and slipped her hand from Niall’s chest to tuck some hair behind her ear. “Okay...so we’re dating,” she said. Niall couldn’t help but smile at her reaction as she looked back over at him. “But we’ve never actually gone out on a date.” 

“You make a good point, darlin’,” he agreed, nodding his head. She laughed. “Perhaps, we should fix that then?” 

“Perhaps…” 

A smirk tugged at his lips. “Jo, will you do me the honor of goin’ on a date with me?” 

“That depends,” Joey lifted her brows, “are you ready for us to be seen together?” 

“What?” 

“It’s only been two weeks since you broke up with Lila…” Joey reminded him.

Niall rolled his eyes in a low huff. “Yeah, but that doesn’t matter, I told ya, she didn’t matter.” 

“I know, but…” Joey paused, and pulled in a deep breath, “but people might not look at it like that since everyone knew you were together. And it was different for us before when we were just friends, but seeing us now? They don’t know that it wasn’t real between you guys.” 

His blue eyes darted over her face and Niall slipped his hand from her thigh under the covers to gently sweep his knuckles over her cheek. “Listen,” he told her, his voice soft, “ya can’t worry ‘bout what any of those people say, the media, the fans, they’re all gonna talk shit no matter what the truth is. Ya can’t pay any mind to it.” Joey nodded quietly as she chewed at her bottom lip. “It’s a double edged sword, ya know? You wanna be private and keep it all to yourself but also ya wanna live your life and shout it from the rooftops. Ya gotta find a balance and that can be hard sometimes.” 

Joey fell quiet for a second, her eyes glazing over as thoughts swirled around in her head. Thoughts of him, with Lila. Ones that she would have assumed would never creep into her mind again now that they were together. “A few weeks ago, I saw the pictures of you and Lila,” she began, catching his stare. “Walking down the street, holding hands...kissing.” 

Niall inhaled sharply and tucked his lips into his mouth. He knew exactly what she was referring to, and he instantly felt terrible. That was definitely not something he had wanted her to see. “I’m sorry, love,” he whispered. 

“No, it’s fine,” she insisted, shaking her head, “I-...well, at the time I wanted to throw up, and I’m pretty sure I was two seconds away from breaking my phone in half,” Niall chuckled as she went on, “but…” Joey shrugged.

Rolling over on his side to face her, Niall reached out and carefully slid his finger along her neck, untucking some of her red hair that was clamped in between her cheek and her shoulder. His hand dragged down to rest at the curve of her waist as his eyes drifted over hers. “Can I be honest with ya?” he then said, Joey nodding in response. “Her agent kinda set that up.” 

“What?” she said, her eyes going big. 

“I wasn’t very keen on it,” Niall explained, the side of his face scrunching up, “it’s not somethin’ I normally do, ya know, like the pap walk type of things. But...they thought it would be good for her image, brand or whatever and...she asked me to do it and...well, I did.” 

“Wow,” Joey breathed out, moving her eyes down to his chest. She let her finger gently twirl into the dark hairs. “So…you’re a whore.” 

She shot her eyes up to his, unable to hold back her smile as Niall burst into a laugh, his arm wrapping around her naked torso and pulling her closer into him. “Shut the fuck up,” he muttered, Joey’s giggles being quieted by the press of his mouth on hers. 

“Just know,” he went on after easing his lips away, “that I’d never have to pretend that shit with you...ever.” 

Her fingers carded through the front of his hair. “I know,” she whispered, smiling as she swept some strands off to the side. “So, what’s your plans for our big date?” 

“Jesus, I dunno,” Niall shrugged, “gotta think about it.” 

Joey slipped her fingertip along his jaw. “Okay…” she said sweetly, meeting his heavy lidded stare, “well, can you think about it while you fuck me again?” 

He smirked at her insatiblity, his touch dipping down to her backside making Joey’s eyes flutter. “Not sure I’ll do much thinkin’ about that while I’m fuckin’ you…” he told her as he brushed the tip of his nose to hers, drawing her back into a kiss.

•

Trying to get Niall to give Joey even the tiniest of a hint about their big first date was like pulling teeth. He was not budging, not in the slightest. He remained tight-lipped the entire rest of the week, smiling at Joey when she would try to tease it out of him with sexual favors or pretend like she was angry. Niall thought her stomping feet and crossed arms were too cute, but not cute enough to give in. He wanted their first date to be something she would remember forever, that they could remember forever together. He wanted it to be beyond special and an experience beyond her wildest imaginations.

Niall wasn’t always a stellar planner when it came to things like that. Big dates and such, if he was being honest with himself, it never really was something he put too much thought into. A football match or just some drinks at a local pub seemed to do well enough for him. And maybe it had to do with the fact that he hadn’t found someone that sparked that in him, that made him want to go all out and splurge and take the time to really make it a night they wouldn’t forget. Not until he met Joey, anyway. 

He had enlisted the help of his PA and his best mate, Chris, to help with the planning. Niall knew exactly what he wanted to do, but keeping up with all the tasks to actually get it done in merely a week's time, was more consuming than he had thought it was going to be. So his friends happily stepped in to take some of the load off. Besides Niall running into the studio to do last minute touches on the album and slipping into meetings to deal with the marketing aspect of its upcoming release, he was busy using his networks to pull as many strings as he could for their unforgettable night. As the days flew by, the date night fast approaching, he was getting more and more anxious. He wanted it to go off without a hitch, and apart from Joey’s constant adorable curiosity over the matter, the execution was coming along flawlessly.  

The night before, Niall gave into one little hint, one that he thought would be useful anyway, and told her that she needed to dress nicely. Joey shot him a look; buckled brows and a huffed eye roll that quickly sent him the message that she had no other intention besides dressing nicely for their date in the first place. He laughed it off. But Joey was absolutely reeling underneath her nonchalant attitude. She was giddy with excitement, and wholeheartedly intrigued by all of his well intentioned secrecy and sneaking around, and she could not wait until the night of their date arrived. 

Niall contemplated blind folding Joey for the duration of the car ride to their destination just to enhance the surprise aspect, but then he figured that might be a bit too much. And could have very well freaked her out more than it would have left her curious and excited, at least in that kind of situation. So he did the next best thing; he hired a driver and sat with Joey in the backseat of the SUV, capturing her full attention for the entire hour and a half drive. Upon telling Joey his not-well-thought out plan of the blindfold, she doubled over in giggles, telling him it wouldn’t have been necessary in the first place. 

“Oh yeah? Don’t give a shit about our date anymore, is that it?” Niall teased her, licking over his lips as his fingers caressed hers that sat linked together on top of her crossed thigh. 

Joey raised a brow and gave him a smirk. “Not at all. I’m just more interested in staring at you than whatever is outside those windows.”

Niall took her compliment in stride, just a small amount of blush folding over her cheeks as he bowed his head a little. Joey loved to see him react that way to her, to know that she could still make the red pulse to his cheeks with just a few words. Peering back over at her, he met her gaze for a moment before letting his blue eyes slide down her frame. He couldn't even pretend that she wasn’t the most gorgeous woman he had ever laid eyes on, he knew it and he told her nearly every day, but looking at her sitting next to him; body hugging red dress, matched with a red lipstick and her hair cascading over her bared shoulders in tight waves, it was unbelievable. She was perfect, she was real and smart and beautiful and Niall couldn’t believe how lucky he was. Picking up her hand, Joey eased her light brown eyes from the glow of the radio screen over to Niall just as he placed a soft kiss to the bend of her knuckles. 

“You’re too much,” she gently chided, Niall smiling against her skin. 

Placing their hands back to their spot on her lap, he cocked his head slightly. “And you’re incredible.” 

Joey glanced down at Niall’s own attire; crisp black trousers, a maroon button up shirt that was left a little open (at Joey’s request), and a simple fitted dinner jacket. His dark hair was styled loosely and easy–Niall knowing that’s how she liked it–just swept over to the side, with his beard grown in just a step past stubble and it was safe to say, he looked like a million bucks. And she couldn’t believe he was all hers. “So are you, baby.” 

“How long is the drive anyway?” Joey quickly added, wrinkling her brow as she peeked around.

Niall brought her attention back to him. “Don’t worry, love,” he assured her, checking the time on his watch, “we’ll be there soon.” 

He wasn’t wrong. It was only about another thirty minutes before the car had pulled off the main road onto a smaller back road. Joey was a bit perplexed as to where exactly they were going and what Niall had planned, but she agreed to go with the flow and regardless of her curiosities, she trusted him. The sun had just begun to set by the time the car had finally come to a stop, Niall making Joey cover her eyes with her hands the last few minutes of the drive down the bumpy road. Hopping out of the car and over to her side to help her out, Niall grabbed Joey’s hand in his, encouraging her to keep her eyes closed for just another minute until he was able to lead her right to where he wanted her to be. The ground felt a bit squishy under her heels, like she was standing on pads of grass and dirt but the air swirling around her was cool and boasted a fragrance that sunk into her lungs like an old familiar scent. She hadn’t even opened her eyes yet and she was already bursting with nerves and a flurry of excitement. 

Niall slipped behind her, standing close enough that his front was touching her back and his mouth sat right at her ear. Joey reached her hands back, searching for his and Niall smiled as he entangled his fingers with hers. She was trembling, Niall felt it against his palms, against his body and a soft grin tugged at the corner of his mouth as he leaned in closer to her. 

Joey held her breath; Niall’s warmth encompassed her and seeped out onto the side of her neck and her heart pounded in her chest. She bit down on her bottom lip as Niall inhaled sharply. “Open your eyes, darlin’,” he whispered. 

Squeezing her fingers around Niall’s, Joey slowly expelled air between rounded lips as she opened her eyes. The sight was breathtaking. Miles of orange and green with intricate pops of purple scattered throughout the endless fields of wildflowers. The golden sunset was beaming down across the tops of the brightly colored petals in the distance, the light breeze swaying and twisting, reminiscent of a surge in the ocean’s tide. Her brown eyes wide with wonderment, her red lips parted in silent awe and Niall tipped his head to the side to watch the expression gleam on her face. 

“I have never seen anything like this before,” she mumbled, her stare swimming over the waves of poppy and lavender that reached all the way to her toes. “It’s so beautiful. This is...absolutely extraordinary, Niall.” 

His heavy-lidded eyes stayed on her. “It is.” 

Shifting her head to the right to catch his stare, her red hair slipped over her shoulder and down across her chest and Niall tenderly uncurled his fingers from her one hand to cradle around her face, easing the young woman into a kiss. “This is just the beginning,” he breathed out as his lips left hers. 

“You’re kidding?” 

“Did ya think I was just gonna bring ya to a field of flowers for our date?” he replied with a furrow of his brow.

Joey laughed and gave him a slight shrug. “I never know with you.” 

“Fair enough,” Niall chuckled, shaking his head, “but how ‘bout ya look all the way over to your left and tell me what ya see.” 

Her hazelnut eyes grew big and Joey turned her face all the way to the other side, a low gasp spilling past her lips. Just beyond a sparse line of trees, a bit off into the distance and right at the edge of another wildflower field, sat a round dining table, complete with chilled wine and tapered candles and dressed in the finest linens. There was a small tent off to the side of that, Joey could see a few people busily moving back and forth inside, that had strings of lights connected from the tiered top to the branches of the trees overhead. It was stunning. 

She smiled big over at Niall, and he felt the flush fill his cheeks as he carefully ran his fingers up through his hair just as Joey grabbed his hand to pull him along with her as they walked towards the table. “Holy shit,” she muttered under her breath as they sat down across from one another, a hired waiter already there to pour their wine, “this is...crazy, Niall!” 

Niall pushed out a short laugh, his mouth turned down at the corners as he placed his napkin in his lap. “Only the best for you, babe,” he said to her. 

Thanking the waiter as he walked away, Joey picked up her wine glass, Niall following suit and they clinked them together before taking a sip. “But tell me, what would you have done had it rained?” she asked him, biting off her smile. 

Niall leaned forward and laid his crossed arms along the edge of the table. “Absolutely no fuckin’ idea,” he snorted, not missing a beat. 

Her head tossed back in a cackle. Niall kept his blue eyes on her, watching her nose cutely scrunch up as the sweet sound of her laugh eased over his ears. Fuck, this girl had his whole heart. “Guess you just lucked out then…” she commented, taking another sip of her wine to settle herself. 

He smiled. “Guess I did.” 

Dinner went on without a single hitch; catered by one of Niall’s friends and most trusted chef to the stars and the most diligent and kind wait staff Joey had ever seen. The two laughed and talked, made soft eyes and played with fingertips across the table as they drank nearly a whole bottle of red wine. The night sky had darkened considerably by that time, the stars blinking above them and the moon casting a shimmery glow upon their skin. It was so romantic, the most romantic date Joey had probably ever experienced, being out there with a handsome man, amongst a field of beautiful wildflowers and tasting the deliciousness of the expertly prepared food and wine. 

She was not a loss for sweet smiles or breathy giggles, or the rosiness that invaded her cheeks every time Niall locked eyes with her and Joey sat back in her chair in a low sigh as she tipped her glass up, emptying the rest of her wine past her lips. “This night has been...something else, Niall,” she told him, setting her glass back onto the table. “I don’t even know what to say.”

Leaning forward a bit, Niall rested his elbows on the table. “Night isn’t over yet, babe, got one more surprise for ya,” he casually mentioned. “Think you’re ready for it?”

Joey peered at him, eyes narrowing. “I dunno what else you could do to surprise me tonight,” she said, lightly laughing him off, “but sure, lay it on me.” 

“Love to lay it on ya real good, but time and place, sweetheart,” Niall spit back, cocking his brow. Joey rolled her eyes at his lame attempt at a dirty joke and he chuckled. “Just fuckin’ with ya. I’m a bit nervous, sorry.” 

Joey shook her head lightly, chewing at her bottom lip. “Why would you be nervous?”

“How ‘bout ya turn around and see, yeah?” he then said, giving a nod as he flicked his eyes behind her. Joey furrowed her brow slightly in confusion and slowly twisted her upper body around in her chair, her eyes sliding through the darkness of the night as they landed on the caterers tent behind her. It wasn’t but another few seconds before the white drapes parted slightly and Joey’s mouth fell open. Her stare went big, bigger than they had all night and she watched with a stampeding in her heart as her most favorite band in the entire world, the Wildflowers, stepped out from the dark and into the glow of the fairy lights strung above. 

Joey couldn’t even breathe, and she clamped her hands over her mouth in a squeal, her eyes as wide as saucers and stuck to the band as they pulled out their instruments and began to play a private acoustic set, just for her. Glancing over at Niall, she nearly had tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. “Oh my-...oh my God, are you fucking for real?” she said to him, her voice hardly carrying over the sound of the music. “Niall!” 

But he just sat there, his gaze fixated on Joey, watching and relishing in her joy and excitement. Seeing her face light up, the smile spreading wider across her lips and happy noises exuding from her as she bounced like an overjoyed child on Christmas morning. The band had started to sing; a pre-approved setlist that Niall had written up from all Joey’s favorite songs that she had mentioned to him over the months of knowing her. And he just slumped back in his chair, a contented smile on his face and his stare never leaving her. She swayed slightly in her seat as she listened and watched, and after the band had moved onto the second song, a bit of a slower one, Niall finally got the courage to lean towards Joey and ask her something. “Would you like to dance?” he spoke up, Joey most definitely hearing him over the calm, soothing melody of the song and she peeked over at him. He had such a softness in his face that it made a warmth ooze over her entire body. He shrugged. “I’m not much of a dancer, pretty shit to be fair, but I’ll give it a go.” 

Reaching up to tuck some hair behind her ear, Joey smiled in a slight blush. “Yes, I’d love to dance with you.” 

Niall stood up from the table, placing his napkin that was in his lap near his empty wine glass and stepped over to Joey. She glanced up at him as he held out his palm to her, and she struggled to pull in a decent breath, slipping her hand in his. He helped her up as she carefully laid her napkin in her chair and let him lead them both a bit out from the table in front of the band. 

His large hands wrapped around the small of her waist, and Joey hooked her arms over his shoulders, her fingers mindlessly playing with the hair at the nape of his neck as they swayed back and forth. “You’ve outdone yourself, Niall James,” she told him, biting at her lip. 

He smirked. “Oh yeah? Where do I fall on that checklist now?”

“Still keeping score, huh?” she teased.

“Naturally.” 

They smiled at each other, cheeks blushing pink before Joey braved an answer. “No competition,” she said honestly, slinking her hands around his neck to pull him into a gentle kiss. “Best first date I’ve ever been on...actually the best date I’ve ever been on.” She paused in a laugh. “To be honest, I’m not sure you’ll ever be able to top it.”

Niall cocked his head back and peered down at her through narrowed eyes. “Who says I’m takin’ ya out again?” 

There was a playful smirk tugging at his lips and Joey gasped, dropping her jaw. “So what, you were just gonna wine me and dine me–”

“Definitely sixty-nine ya…”

Joey threw her head back in a vivacious laugh, one that could have stolen the show had the music not been so loud. Her face came back down, with her red hair slinging over her one shoulder. Rolling her eyes at him, she sucked in a breath. “I guess I’m okay with that.” 

Niall chuckled softly and pushed a kiss to her lips. His arms clamped around her body as their lips slipped away, Joey tucking herself down against him as he held her tight. With her cheek resting at the front of his shoulder, eyes glued to the band singing before them, Niall tenderly kissed the top of her head. “This is only the beginnin’, my love,” he whispered, hoping she would hear, “we got so much more to come, me and you.” 

Joey smiled at his words and slipped her arms under his, hooking her hands at his upper back. She held him securely, so close that she could no longer tell her heartbeat from his and her eyes eased closed as they moved back and forth to the beautifully melodic sound of the music.

[edspageds]

Reddie 18+ Drabble - The Challenge

For a request by @candy-gothic Technically this ran a slight bit longer then a drabble, but I liked the idea, and I hope you enjoy!!!

Summary: Eddie is pretty tolerant of Richie’s pranks, turns out, this is a very good thing.

Pairing: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier

Warnings: notSFW, exhibitionism, naked man challenge

Word Count: 1.5k

Eddie likes to think he’s not easily fazed. Faced with the kind of idiots he works for day-in and day-out that like to make demands with little idea of how possible the job actually is, it’s amazing he hasn’t blown up in his superior's face more than twice. 

When faced with the kind of idiot he has at home, well, let’s leave it at living with Richie has prepared Eddie for even the most surprising of events. 

His endless patience combined with his unsurprised demeanor make it so he’s given Richie free reign to attempt whatever comedy thing he likes involving Eddie- within reason. He doesn’t understand the draw to any of those online internet comedy videos, but Eddie’s not really a comedy guy in general despite living with a literal comedian. He has final say on what is and isn’t posted, and when a joke is taken too far. Only issue there is, it takes a lot for Eddie to deem something ‘too far’.

Clearly, Richie took that as a challenge.

Eddie’s on a zoom conference, just taking a sip of his hot tea while the meeting droned on, and out of the corner of his eye he sees Richie. He doesn’t think anything of it, Richie likes to do his own thing, but be in Eddie’s company when he’s doing work stuff like this. It’s romantic, that he just likes being in Eddie’s presence even if they are doing separate things. That being together brings him a comforting blanket of warmth.

But, then he sees Richie, and chokes on his tea.

“Kaspbrak, shit, are you okay?” He doesn’t know which one of them asks, and really has to strain himself to suppress the reaction his body wants to make at the sight of Richie, buck ass naked, standing proudly in front of him recording.

He clears his throat, coughing, and schools his face into a bored expression. "Yes. Thank you for your concern. Please continue."  

His customer service voice takes over, and the meeting progresses. But Eddie’s lost any bit of the little attention he's paying it as Richie glides a hand down his chest wiggling his brows suggestively.

As if there was a way to take this that wasn't fucking suggestive. Eddie keeps his face neutral, but flips Richie off just out of sight. 

His grin grows, the little shit, and he points at his face and then his phone mouthing something along the lines of 'smile for the camera'. With startling clarity, Eddie realizes this is a prank. 

He wants to kill him. 

Instead of murder, he keeps his expression dull. “-and for the quarterly assessments, Kaspbrak?” 

“Yes, sir. If you’ll see the flow chart on page 23 of the packet I emailed you…” While he speaks, he palms his cock through his jeans, completely out of sight of his work call, but completely in-sight of Richie. 

Richie's breath goes ragged, laser focused on Eddie's hand, grip faltering on his phone as he quickly realizes his joke backfired spectacularly. And now he's standing naked, in their living room, with his incredibly irresistible boyfriend watching him out of the corner of his eye on the couch rubbing his crotch under the tv tray he's perched his laptop on, teasing Richie with what he can't have because he's on a goddamn work call. 

Or at least, that's what Eddie thinks is going through Richie's mind. That Eddie’s proved his point, and they'll settle this later. Clearly, he underestimated the depth of Richie's horniness and lack of shame when instead of escaping back up the stairs to jack off leaving Eddie in peace, Richie wraps a hand around his shaft pumping in a smooth stroke, hairy thighs flexing. 

Eddie covers his involuntary moan in a cough, quickly downing a sip of his tea in between talking. He could put a stop to this, shoo Richie off and focus on the current meeting. Get his half-hard cock to calm down, and pretend that he cares about what’s going on in the slightest.

But, that would imply Eddie wanted to stop. That his blood wasn't racing in his veins as Richie watched him through the lens of his camera, stroking his thick cock till it was red and weeping at the head. 

Eddie forces his expression to remain neutral as a dark flush works its way up his torso, beads of sweat budding on the surface of his skin like the growing wet patch on his boxers where his cock pleads for attention straining against his pants. "...It's hard to give an estimate here without more on-site data, but initial estimates by picture evaluation is included." 

He says the words on auto-pilot, having reviewed his notes more than twenty times. He tries to keep his eyes straight forward, but he can't help letting his gaze track to Richie. 

Richie licks his lips, thumbing the head of his dick, the hot length of him twitching in want. Eddie's nerves are a live wire as he pops the button on his jeans, slipping the zipper down slowly. Richie shivers, squeezing his cock as a heavy bead of pre-cum leaks out. Fuck, Eddie wants to push all this to the side and lick it up. His mouth practically watering, he has to audibly swallow the excess saliva.

He hopes the group just thinks he's nervous, or any number of normal explanations for his red complexion, even while he palms his tented boxers, Richie practically shaking in want but holding himself back till at least Eddie finishes talking.

"...any questions?" Richie steps forward, panting harshly as he pumps his cock not even two feet away pupils blown wide with lust.

"Only a few Mister Kaspbrak, what about the…" Richie actually whines low, but no one seems to hear it, and it just makes Eddie smile, shifting to nudge down his pants and boxers so his cock springs free, hard and aching for attention. While he keeps his expression cool and collected, he teases his length with feather light touches that have him arching forward. 

Richie is practically overwhelmed with desire, eyes locked on Eddie's cock, still angling the phone to capture all of Eddie's blatant debauchery. 

Eddie wonders if Richie will watch this later. Maybe while he's away on tour, and craving everything about Eddie. Think about touching Eddie everywhere but his cock, let him squirm trying to keep a good look for the camera while practically rutting up into the underside of the table desperately wanting touch in all his most sensitive places. Wanting Richie's touch in all his most sensitive places. 

He stutters briefly, squeezing the base of his dick, blinking a few times to keep his focus. 

Now, Richie's just behind his laptop. Large form making Eddie's balls tighten in want, the manly frame of him enough to have Eddie stumble over his words. He can't help being distracted, not when Richie's eyes are on him devouring him with reverent desire and affection. Eddie keeps talking mindlessly, and hopes his shitty speakers continue to be shit so no one hears the slide of Richie's hand over his cock. 

He wants him to cum all over his thighs, paint him white while Eddie fools his colleagues into thinking he's perfectly proper, even as he fucks into his own fist slicked by Richie's cum.

"...and I believe that concludes our business. Thank you all, see you in the office on Monday. Enjoy your weekends." 

Eddie doesn't even get in more than a half cut off 'Goodb-' before Richie shuts the laptop shoving it and the stand to the side crowding into Eddie's space to slot their lips together in a messy slide of tongues. The harsh burn of Richie's scruff dragging against his lips. Desperate to touch, Richie’s hands rove over his body, and Eddie's skin lights a trail of fire in his blood everywhere they touch. 

He shucks off his pants, Richie pressing close in between his legs, man handling him to get their cocks rubbing together. Eddie surges forward licking a strip up Richie's throat, savoring the taste of his musk. They can't stop, not now, not so close. 

Richie gets his hand around both of them, and Eddie's toes curl, fucking up into his fist and the slide of skin on skin, so delicious. It drives him wild. Richie drives him wild with thrashing, feverous wanting dipping and soaring through his blood. Like a stampeding herd vibrating throughout his entire body. Until he's on the edge, lips shiny with spit, slightly swollen from their aggressive mouths. 

Richie pulls back, camera still trained on him, as he cums, undone. 

It doesn't take much for Richie to tumble after, and into him, panting heavily on his shoulder. Bubbling great waves of warm affection making his limbs weak and his eyes heavy. Eddie smatters the side of his head in light pecks, warm content stewing. 

Cuddled close on the couch, catching their breath, it probably goes without saying, but Richie doesn't get to post his video.

[delicioussshame]

Fuck it, have some wips I’ve been trying to get back to but alas, it’s not going well.

________________________________

“Shizun… It’s Shizun, isn’t it?”

Shen Qingqiu turns towards Luo Binghe, for who else could it be? “Yes.”

Luo Binghe, is, obviously, still as devastatingly handsome as he ever was. He didn’t lose anything by switching from the traditional style to more modern fashion. Maybe, Shen Qingqiu despairs, he even gained from it. Those jeans are literally stopping traffic.

He might miss his long locks though. Short hair suits him, but it wouldn’t feel the same under his fingers.

Shen Qingqiu shakes himself back to reality. The feeling of Luo Binghe’s hair under doesn’t have anything to do with him anymore.  “Binghe seems like he did well for himself.” He has no doubt on the matter. Managing their wealth through time was a challenge, but nothing an array of trusts, shell corporations, insider knowledge and skilled lawyers couldn’t arrange. Shen Qingqiu has been living lavishly for decades. He’s sure Binghe did the same.

“So does Shizun.”

The appellation brings a smile to his lips. It’s so ridiculous. Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe had spent centuries together. In comparison, the time Shen Qingqiu taught Luo Binghe was infinitesimal. The title is meaningless.

Luo Binghe used to say that Shen Qingqiu taught him something new every day. That they could spend eternity together and he’d never learn enough from him.

That was long ago now.

“This must be similar to the era Shizun came from, isn’t it?”

“Pretty much.” It’s not quite the same. Some events went differently, some didn’t, but daily life is almost indistinguishable

Investing in Tencent still proved profitable though.

Luo Binghe is wavering, obviously wondering if he’ll dare to say whatever he’s thinking of saying.  

It’s probably not a good idea. “Well, it was nice seeing you. I’m sure you have things to do.” Shen Yuan departs.

Or tries to. He’s hindered by Luo Binghe’s grasp on his arm. “Binghe. Let go.”

Shen Qingqiu almost stumbles from the shock of seeing Luo Binghe’s eyes swell with tears for the first time in forever. His heart squeezes like Binghe was still his young and eager husband, crumbling under the slightest disapproval. Without his consent, his hand reaches up and wipes those tears away gently, the gesture so familiar it hurt. “A-Yuan, please, don’t go! Give this disciple a day, no, an evening to catch up! I will take him to the best restaurant, pay for the grandest hotel, whatever he wants, as long as he spares me a fraction of his time.”

Shen Qingqiu knows better. He can’t falter here. He can’t let Luo Binghe charm him into a nice dinner where alcohol flows until, both of them tipsy, they fall into bed again and Shen Qingqiu finds himself spending another decade in Luo Binghe’s embrace.

________________________________

Shen Qingqiu pokes the collar half-heartedly.

There’s nothing inherently wrong with it. The leather is of the finest quality, soft and supple under his touch. Shen Qingqiu is pretty sure he could wear it all day without feeling sore or constricted. It’s white too, so between his skin and his robe, it wouldn’t even clash. It would almost be unnoticeable, really.

By all means, it should be black; Luo’s Binghe color. The point, after all, was to claim what was his. A subtle color was an allowance most weren’t afforded.

Then again, most submissives don’t spend their lives pretending they’re not.

He knows the original Shen Qingqiu didn’t manage to fool them all. Yue Qingyuan must know, and he’s pretty sure Mu Qingfang wasn’t fooled either.

Luo Binghe told him he always knew. That he could always feel something different from his shizun.

It’s not that surprising. Luo Binghe had been written as the ultimate dominant, bending every lady to his will with a word. Even if the version of him Shen Qingqiu had grown familiar with was a lot more masochistic than he had any right to be, he still had an intrinsic knowledge of what made everyone tick, the way the best dominants did.

Maybe that’s why he kept things simple. They both had to figure it out to begin with. More formal scenes could wait. Or, you know, just not happen. Shen Qingqiu is pretty sure that way would have been easier to handle.

________________________________

Mu Qingfang must really care for Liu Qingge’s wellbeing.

It’s the only reason Shen Yuan can think of for his presence every time Liu Qingge shows up for treatment, which is often. Shizun doesn’t shadow him when he’s with other patients. He can take care of most casual wounds and infections thrown his way with ease. The light cut on Liu Qingge’s arm barely merits treatment, to be honest. Not that Shen Yuan is going to tell Liu Qingge of all people that. He’s going to clean the wound, bandage it and send him on his merry way without a word about wasting the time of one of Mu Qingfang’s most senior disciples.

“Here, all done. Liu-shibo should be completely healed before tomorrow.” His cultivation would have taken care of it anyway.

Liu Qingge nods.

“Shen Yuan has other tasks to see to. If Liu-shixiong feels better, he should return to his peak. I’m sure his students missed him.”

Liu Qingge frowns at Mu Qingfang. “They don’t. They’re busy with their training.”

“Then Shixiong should go help them.”

Liu Qingge glares at Mu Qingfang, to Shen Yuan’s bafflement. Maybe they really don’t get along because Mu Qingfang doesn’t trust Liu Qingge not to create trouble everywhere he goes?

Liu Qingge stops glaring at Mu Qingfang and turns to Shen Yuan. “I’ll be back.”

Shen Yuan cringes interiorly. “Liu-shibo should take care of himself better instead of counting on this disciple’s meagre skills.” Please, Liu Qingge, what’s the point of having saved your life if you keep hurting yourself? You’ll be dead again before Luo Binghe turns evil!

Well, he won’t if Shen Yuan has a say about it, but let’s just admit he’s not very confident in his chances.

“Your skills are fine.”

Shen Yuan blinks. “…Thank you.” At least he’s being appreciated?

Mu Qingfang sighs as Liu Qingge departs. “Liu-shixiong isn’t a bad man, but he sometimes doesn’t know how to interact with people correctly.”

“Liu-shibo has never been improper with me.” He can be rude and demanding, but nothing Shen Yuan can’t handle. He’s dealt with disciples wounded in both body and pride that were much more of a handful.

Mu Qingfang stares at him. “Are you certain?”

Shen Yuan is confused. “Yes?”

Mu Qingfang… pats his head? What? Mu Qingfang isn’t known to be very physically demonstrative. “Good. You have a tendency to attract trouble, so I was worried.”

Excuse you, Shen Yuan does not “attract trouble”. Shen Yuan takes order from the System sometimes, that’s different. It’s not his fault he gets caught into weird plot lines all the time!

And why did he got retconned onto Qian Cao Peak anyway? What can he do on Qian Cao that he couldn’t on Qing Jing with the protagonist? Wouldn’t that make more sense?

At least Mu Qingfang is nice enough. “I’m sorry if I cause Shizun problems. I will strive to do better.” Not that he knows how to. He didn’t know anything about traditional medicine when he came here, and he still has to restrain himself when something particularly unscientific comes up. He’s been doing his best to fit in for years, since his very weird transmigration into an original character.

“I know you will. Go back to your duties now.”

Shen Yuan salutes his shizun and returns to work. Injuries in a sect of their magnitude are frequent. Shen Yuan is busy.

____________

“Shen-shidi!”

Shen Yuan smiles at his young shixiong, the protagonist himself, one Luo Binghe. He can’t help it. He’s cute! Shen Yuan can almost see his tail wagging! “Hello, Luo-shixiong.”

“Does Shidi have some time to teach me?”

Shen Yuan cannot say no to those puppy eyes. “Of course. Please come here.” He doesn’t. He’ll have to work late tonight to make up for the time he spends on teaching Luo Binghe.

It’s worth it. Everything he can do to help Luo Binghe is one more step of the “Save the sect from annihilation at the hands of the darkened protagonist” quest.

“Is Luo-shixiong doing well today?”

Luo Binghe shakes his head shyly.

Shen Yuan pushes the subject aside. They both know what Shen Yuan really asked: did Luo Binghe get bullied by his fellow disciples or his teacher today, and does he need Shen Yuan to look over it?

This is how they first met. Shen Yuan saw a young boy with a bruised face and favouring his right side, and instantly offered to help him. The boy tried to say no, but Shen Yuan is Mu Qingfang’s disciple. He has been taught that it is his duty to help those in need.

He had instantly recognised the wounds as the result of a fight, not training. As the healers of the sect, Qian Cao Peak disciples were expected to remain neutral in the context of peak rivalries. He couldn’t protect the young disciple himself, not without compromising his position. All he could do was offer his services.

“My name is Shen Yuan. If you ever need care again, please ask for me at Qian Cao Peak. Can I ask what your name is?”

“My name is Luo Binghe, of Qing Jing Peak.”

It had taken all of Shen Yuan’s strength of will not to gape at this admission. He knew Luo Binghe had arrived at the sect, but he had never thought they would meet like this, and that he would unwillingly create a link between them! Go him!

It had worked too! Two weeks later, Shen Yuan had been pulled from his normal studies by a worried shidi of his, who took him to a Luo Binghe with a sprained wrist, a broken finger and a black eye. Shen Yuan had instantly started to work on it, sending his qi through Luo Binghe as best he could while tending to his wounds.

Luo Binghe had thanked him from his help with a troubling wide-eyed awe that made Shen Yuan want to keep him in his room and feed him nice things. He restated his original offer to help Luo Binghe whenever he needed, which ended up being way more often than even Shen Yuan, who had never liked Shen Qingqiu to say the least, thought decent.

“Does Shidi think he could teach me? This way I wouldn’t be such a burden to him. If only my cultivation was better…”

Shen Yuan’s heart broke. Don’t worry, you’ll be the best cultivator some day! “I’d be happy to help.”

Luo Binghe had lighted up like the sun piercing through the clouds.

(Shen Yuan’s determination to save the sect from Luo Binghe might have switched to saving Luo Binghe from himself.)

Luo Binghe has been showing up regularly since then, soaking up all of Shen Yuan’s knowledge at frankly frightening speed. Hopefully it will be useful to him when he’s alone in the Abyss.

If he took the opportunity to correct a few of his cultivation bases, it’s not like Shen Qingqiu would ever find out.

________________________________ 

Luo Binghe still holds the favor the prince consort bestowed upon him close to his chest at all times.

Even if all the court knew the prince consort could defend his honor himself, it would have been improper. Of course it fell on his knights to defend Shen Qingqiu while the King Yue Qingyuan was away.

Luo Binghe had intended to return the token as soon as he had unseated the misbeliever from his horse, but blinded by Shen Qingqiu’s smile, his hand felt down still wrapped around the embroidered handkerchief.

He needs to return it before its disappearance is noticed. If someone doubted Shen Qingqiu’s loyalty because of his failings, he would seek penance until his death found him.

“The prince consort has allowed you entrance.”

(…)

Zheng Yang lies between them, the symbol of the vow Luo Binghe intends to respect.

Shen Qingqiu is completely still on the other side of the bed, white night clothes covering his whole body.

Luo Binghe prays for the salvation of his damned soul. He cannot betray the king’s trust by befouling his beloved.

[modernmisterdarcy]

Brothers

The Duke of Bainton was prepared for politeness and pleasantry and he made ready to receive, his thin-lipped, easy smile fixed in place.

“It is I who should thank you, Your Grace. This evening has truly been a magical one,” said Miss King.

“The magic has been entirely your own, to be sure,” said the Duke. “And the Earl's daughter is as welcome to my service as the Earl himself.”

“And, Your Grace, may I just say…”

Adrian leaned in as she lowered her voice.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said earlier – how I should be more mindful of my reputation. I think you are right; I should be aware of the consequences of my actions… – But I hope you know, if I had the ability to go back and choose again – I wouldn’t have done anything differently.”

Adrian's lips parted in surprise at this bold declaration. His pallid face flushed for the final time that night, and he swallowed thickly.

“Why-- Miss King, I--” He cast about for words, and finding none, simply smiled at her, perhaps a bit sadly. “I thank you. Goodnight, worthy lady, and goodnight to your fine family.”

With that, the Duke of Bainton went out of the mansion and to his carriage, which waited directly in front of the door for its master. He required a deal of assistance from the footman to embark, having over-exerted himself that evening in every possible respect, and his bad leg wanted to buckle beneath him. Once inside, he fairly collapsed against the seat, and endured the ride home in embattled silence, his body one giant complaint, while his mind turned over Miss King's kind words, her kind face, her kind actions.

I wouldn’t have done anything differently

Wouldn’t have done anything differently

Anything differently

The implication shook him. Perhaps he thought too much of it. Perhaps he thought not enough. Did she mean it the way he thought? That she esteemed him worthy of her attentions in his moment of dire need, even at the risk of her own reputation? Had she truly, boldly declared as much, or was it only a distortion of his fevered mind? Perhaps in his illness he felt so vulnerable he only wanted to think as much. Perhaps he so longed for a good woman in his life that he should fabricate one at his own convenience, the first who showed any sign of decency.

Yes, that must be it.

He left the Astley residence feeling strange in the chest, all but smitten with the Earl's daughter. But by the time he reached his own home, Adrian had convinced himself it was all a trick of his own mind-- a trick of the light, perhaps a few too many sips of wine, perhaps a socially clumsy country girl (but was she?) speaking out of turn and an ailing bachelor wanting her words to be more than they were.

Adrian readied for bed on the verge of complete physical collapse. As his manservant helped him undress, from downstairs came the unmistakable sounds of his little brother, Tobias, returning to the house in a drunk. Just how drunk or what mood he was in mattered little to Adrian.

“I'll finish,” he said to his manservant. “Go to him. Don't let him come here. I haven't the strength for it.”

The manservant did as he was told. Adrian all but fell into his bed and closed his eyes, his left hip aching, his muscles heavy and weak, his heart in turmoil. For in his heart he still thought of Eierene, the sweet little thing, how she'd looked when he left her at the gala, so small and gentle, very like a flower in high summer. The fever burned higher and his mind whirled, twisting his thoughts and distorting every emotion.

The tide turned to Tobias as he heard, from downstairs, his younger brother unleash a savage scream. For what reason, Adrian could not fathom, but Toby was never a reasonable drunk. The boy came home drunk more nights than not, lately, and the very idea made Adrian's heart ache. For a time, he forgot Eirene, and sank into melancholy thoughts of how Toby was so very like their father. Adrian sank into his fever dreams and his warped feelings for his younger brother, everything that kept Toby at a distance-- his resentment over Toby killing their mother in childbirth, resentment over Toby escaping the war healthy and whole, over Toby frittering away his health and well-being with drink, and of course Toby's being a socially inept insufferable ass.

He needed to rest desperately, but Adrian's sleep was troubled. He woke several times during the night, and finally, around dawn, upon waking with a violent coughing fit, took a heavy draught of laudanum, and drifted into an insalubrious and dreamless sleep.

– – –

“What do you mean, he'll not see me!?” Tobias, meanwhile, demanded of the manservant.

“His Grace is very ill, m'lord--”

“Oughtn't his brother be the one to tend him, then!?” Toby was so drunk his eyes would not focus. He threw a dismissive hand on the manservant's direction.

“I have orders, m'lord--”

“FUCK YOUR ORDERS!” bellowed the young man, and he fell to the floor, weeping. “Why will he not see me, Gainesville?”

“He is likely already asleep,” the manservant said gently, touching Toby's shoulder. “His Grace was very tired upon returning.”

“Aye?” Tobias swiped at his streaming eyes. “Aye? He is always tired. My brother is a sick man. He may die soon, you know.”

“You mustn't say things like that,” the manservant chided, again, as gently as he could. “His Grace has proved very resilient--”

“He's dying,” Toby moaned, now going prostrate on the floor, face-down, his face buried in his arms. “It's getting worse, you great sot, don't you see? Or am I the only one here pretending it's not happening? He's dying, my brother is dying, why, God, why!”

Gainesville thenceforth kept his mouth shut. He stayed for a moment longer to ensure that young Lord Wolfe would not disturb His Grace, and, when he was fairly certain that Lord Wolfe would cry himself to sleep on the parlor rug, Gainesville retired to his own quarters, having to marshal his own energies to tend the Duke on the morrow, and the next day, and the next.

--- --- ---

Next day, sometime around noon, Tobias woke with the raised floral pattern of the parlor carpet imprinted on his cheek, and a raging headache hammering away in his skull. His heart was heavy, his groin painful (from having spent several hours too many in a harlot's crib the night before), and despite having been inebriated to the point of nigh-incoherence, he remembered everything. These days, Toby always remembered everything, which was rather inconvenient to a boy who drank mostly to forget.

Tobias picked himself up off the floor and stalked up to his room, pausing briefly before his brother's closed door. He heard coughing inside, and pushed open the door. There lay Adrian, looking an absolute fright, so wasted and small in his dressing-gown, his pallor nothing short of dire. When up and dressed, it was easy to think Adrian was stronger and more substantial than he was. But now, as he lay helpless and ill, exposed and vulnerable, there was no denying anything at all.

Toby slouched against the door frame.

“All right, Adrian?” said he.

“You know how I feel about staying abed, but the exertions of last night's--” he broke off, coughing into a handkerchief, while several others, flecked with blood, decorated the bedside table. Trembling, Adrian shook his head. “Far from all right, brother.... And yourself?”

“Hung over,” Toby said, gazing impassively down at his elder brother. His beloved, ailing elder brother. A man whom Toby idolized even now. A man whom Toby adored, but had long since ceased expressing his adoration, as it was only ever met with scorn and rebuke. Yet he could not help himself. Seeing Adrian so ghastly pale, seeing so many soiled kerchiefs, struck the fear of God into Toby's heart. He was reminded powerfully of seeing Adrian in the Royal Forces hospital, where he was certain to die of consumption, and Toby was forced to admit that the danger was still present. However strong Adrian tried to be, his force of will was not necessarily stronger than a force of God-- a force like illness.

“Call the doctor?” said Toby, not even of a mind to speak in full sentences, lest Adrian scold him for wasting his oxygen.

“No.” Adrian sagged against his pillows, his brow knitting with pain and fatigue. “There's nothing to be done.”

“You're not a doctor. You don't know,” Toby said mulishly. “Don't be stupid, Adrian. Don't try to be so brave, it's only me and the walls to see you.”

“I see myself.” The Duke closed his eyes. “I am excessively fatigued, brother. Please leave me.”

In spite of himself, in spite of being treated the same since time immemorial, the dismissal still stung Toby's heart. He wanted to stay in the room, to keep Adrian company, to hold his hand and to help him take his fucking medicine, but Adrian did not want it. And Toby hadn't the slightest idea why. And he hadn't the slightest notion as to why, after all these years, he still expected Adrian to respond differently. Perhaps, because, on rare occasion, he did. But this was not one of those occasions. But Adrian looked so thin and lonesome, Toby choked back tears to think of leaving him alone. But Adrian's wishes were not to be ignored.

“All right,” said Toby, shoving off of the door frame and turning away. He couldn't help but glance over his shoulder, and see Adrian struggling with the bottle of laudanum, and his heart clenched in an agonizing way. He heard the little medicine cup clatter to the table, Adrian had dropped it, but he never asked for help, he only muttered, “Blast,” to himself, very softly, and Toby walked away.

--- --- ---

“What's this?”

The brothers sat at breakfast two days later. Toby reached for a book which sat on the table at Adrian's left elbow. The Duke had scarcely made a recovery, but insisted upon being up and dressed and going about his business. His only agenda-item for that day was to pay a very brief call to the Earl of Bainton, and Tobias was to accompany him.

“A book,” Adrian said blandly, sipping his tea.

“Elements of agricultural chemistry, in a course of lectures for the Board of Agriculture. What ever are you reading this for?” Toby laughed, shaking his head.

“I am merely curious,” said Adrian, delicately plucking the book from his brother's hands. “It does not belong to me, so keep it away from your breakfast or you're sure to soil it.”

“You're not wrong,” said Toby, for he had long since ceased arguing with Adrian's censures, no matter how unfair. Even, sometimes, as he did this morning, agreed-- if only for the sake of his own amusement. “I'm like a pig at its trough with the porridge, you know. Right slovenly, I am.”

“Do not try my nerves, Tobias.” Adrian had scarcely touched his breakfast, and now pushed it away. “We must tolerate one another's presence for a while today, and you know I am short-tempered when I've been ill.”

“What? You? Tolerate me? What for?” Tobias nudged Adrian's bowl back at him. “Eat a bit more, why don't you?”

“You forget, brother, that yours is a courtesy title only, and I am not to be trifled with. I am a crowned Duke of the Royal Peerage and I'll not stand to be condescended or coddled to in any way.” Flushed with emotion, Adrian pushed the porridge away. His stomach turned. He had no appetite; it was a wasting sickness; it was out of his control. He knew why Toby did as he did, and it was not Toby's actions which incensed him, but their reminder of his illness. Toby did not-- could not-- understand what it was like for Adrian, and this made the Duke angry. Of course he didn't understand-- Tobias was healthy.

“Sorry,” Toby grunted, one brow arched, and he shook his head. “So, what could be so important as to force you into proximity with your repulsive little brother for any length of time?”

“I am calling today on the Earl of Bainton. His estranged daughter has been reunited with him, and you must come and be introduced. They are our neighbors at Ashvale, as you know, and it would be of supreme rudeness for you not to be introduced straight away.”

“Have you met her?” Toby bit into a sausage, speaking with his mouthful. “Is she pretty?”

“Do not address me with food in your mouth,” the Duke snipped. “I met her at the Astleys' gala. She is a lovely girl.”

“Lovely!” Toby cried, making his brother flinch. “She must really be something to earn such high praise from the most frigid man in Britain.”

Adrian said nothing, his brow quirked, and he opened the agricultural volume to a page, at random, and began to read.

– – –

Several hours later, the Earl of Bainton's valet showed in the Wolfe brothers to the parlor. The Duke was in the front, looking exceedingly pale and tired, but otherwise as prim and perfect as ever. Beside him was a man who, on his own, might have been tolerable enough, but beside the Duke's rigid precision, he looked positively slovenly. His posture was not so keen as the Duke's, and his shirt was perhaps a little rumpled, and his hair was dark and wavy, a bit flyaway, without so much as a drop of pomade to tame (whereas, of course, the Duke's entire head was covered with the stuff, lest a single hair-- as Eirene had observed-- come out of place). To top it off, his expression was sullen, compared with the perpetual, neutral serenity of the Duke.

“Good afternoon, Lord King,” said Adrian, nodding to the Earl. “We've come to return Miss King's book, which she was good enough to leave with me a souvenir of our meeting.”

“I have been told that Miss King is a lovely girl,” the Marquess chimed in. “I am most eager to meet her!”

“And what a meeting it is, to be sure,” said Adrian, casting his brother a withering glance which said, in no uncertain terms, Behave!

[thedeviltohisangel]

How The Night Changes//4//You Mean Everything

Olivia has a date to a gala that is not Duncan.

Warnings: physical fight, mentions of noncon acts, attempted noncon acts

my URL /writing will bring you other parts and also my series’ with Michael and Jim!

Thank you to @kellysimagines for the request!

“I was there because the President invited me, mom...Yes, Olivia was there too...No I didn’t get a chance to sweep her off her feet...Listen I have to go I’m in the middle of the grocery store, I’ll stop by before the gala tomorrow, okay? Love you too, bye.” Olivia watched him roll his eyes from where she was poking her fingers into the kitten crates, allowing them to playfully swat at her.

“Your mother wants you to seduce me?”

“Something like that,” Duncan muttered as he returned to looking at the varying kittens as he had been before his mother had called. “Did you decided on one yet? Any of them speaking to you?” Olivia had decided her new townhouse was too empty, her belongings from Paris not filling up as much space as would be necessary in order to make it a home. She decided she needed a cat to keep her company and she had enlisted Duncan’s help in accompanying her to the shelter to find. “I don’t know why you couldn’t get a dog.”

“Because I’m not home enough now to take care of one. My little kitten will be able to travel with me easier too.”

“Please do not be one of those girls that keeps her animal in her bag.”

“If that’s going to be a dealbreaker then…” She didn’t have time to run away as he lurched forward and ghosted his fingers over her ribs, the tickling sensation enough to make her squeal and attempt to curl in on herself. The volume of their laughter and their public display of affection was of no concern, the Secret Service making the shelter stay open later than usual to accommodate the special guest.

As Duncan paused to allow her to catch her breath, she noticed an orange kitten watching them intently from a crate at the bottom. Enamored, she bent down and placed her hand flat against the bars on the cage, the kitten mimicking her actions with its paw. “This one. Definitely this one. Let me go find that lady.” He watched her scurry off and bent down to assess the kitten she had chosen.

“She’s the best person to be loved by, you’re a lucky fluff ball.” All he got was a ‘meow’ in response.

“What do you think I should name her?” Olivia asked as she came back with a clipboard and a pen.

“How about something to remind you of Paris? Maybe Eiffel? You can call her Effie, for short.” He shrugged as he said it, returning to looking at the kitten while she mulled it over.

“That’s actually perfect. You’re much more sentimental than I originally thought of you.” She squatted down next to him and puckered her lips, Duncan pecking them. “Come on, you can help me carry all of her accoutrements to the car.”

When the SUVs pulled up to Duncan’s building and she made no sign of getting out he groaned.

“You’re not spending the night?”

“I have to take Effie home and get her settled. And I have to be at the White House early tomorrow for the gala. I’ll see you there though, right?”

“Yeah and if you look too good in your dress I might regret it.” She snickered as he leaned over and kiss her soundly, pulling apart with her lip between his teeth.

“Not fair! I’m not going to get to kiss you all day tomorrow.”

“The price we must pay to keep certain people out of our lives.” He opened the door and when his feet hit the pavement she called out his name.

“I love you.” The day after they had exchanged affirmations of their love on the beach, the two had murmured the words into each other’s mouth over and over before making a pact that they would only say it when they really meant it, it was not a feeling either of them took lightly.

“I love you more than you’ll ever know,” he replied. Effie meowed from her crate in Olivia’s lap. “You too Eiffel.” Duncan couldn’t help but be amused that even his girlfriend’s, if he could call her that, cat had him wrapped around her finger. “Until we meet again.”

She had spent the past few nights with him and he was unafraid to admit that he had gotten used to the feeling of going to sleep with her in his arms and waking up to her legs tangled in his. Had fallen in love with it even. As he walked into his dark apartment, her camel colored jacket over the top of his couch, he felt lonely. His bed looked cold and uninviting without her in it and his bathroom smelled bland without her rosemary scented shampoo wafting through. Duncan looked at himself and had only one blunt thought: he was fucked.

Olivia sat with Effie in her lap while her hair and makeup were being sorted for her mother’s gala to welcome the Prime Minister of Malaysia. She hadn’t heard from Duncan all day but she was buzzing with anticipation of seeing him that night. She had already fallen in love with the blue Roberto Cavalli dress that had been loaned to her for the night and she couldn’t wait for Duncan to see her in it. He had never seen her all dressed up and done up before and she hoped it would go just as the fairytale in her mind did.

A knock on the door startled Olivia out of her daydream, her mother’s head poking into the room. “Ladies, can I have a moment alone with my daughter, please?” The hairstylist placed the curling iron on the vanity, the makeup artist tucked the eyeliner into her pocket and the two walked out without even a nod.

“Do you no longer like the color I’m wearing? You said it made my eyes pop.” Olivia always expected her mother to have a criticism to present to her. She had never reached her full potential, and most likely never would, if you asked her mother.

“I need you to take a date tonight. Henry Macy. A big vote is coming up on my Equal Pay Amendment and his happiness would go a long way in getting his father’s vote.”

“Are you expecting me to...to physically persuade him?” She felt sick to her stomach over pretending to flirt with another man that wasn’t Duncan, let alone if her mother was going to ask her to ensure his happiness by any means necessary.

“We’ll see how the night goes. Thank you, sweetheart. I’m sure even your attention will make it the night of his life.” Her mother left after kissing the top of her head, Olivia no longer as exciting for the evening as she had been before their conversation.

“Duty calls, right Effie?” The women tasked with making her glamorous emerged once again and got back to work. Olivia took out her phone and sent a text to Duncan: I love you and only you. Please don’t think tonight is a reflection of something else. My mother is making me. She didn’t want him to think she was ignoring him or that her laughs and touches meant anything substantive. She was his and he was hers and Olivia was just hoping they could get through the night still in tact.

Duncan stood in conversation with his mother and a group of people, but he wasn’t listening in the slightest. He had to resist his urge to pace while he waited for Olivia to make her entrance. He had spent all of last night and all of this morning missing her and then when she had texted him his stomach had dropped. The line about her mother had lead Duncan to anticipate that she would be walking in with a man on her arm. A man that wasn’t him. The mental image had made his blood boil and he was already on his second vodka neat in preparation for the reality to be in front of him.

“Duncan, you seem so anxious. Have you overheard something detrimental?” He shook his head at his mother as he swallowed the sip of alcohol he had just taken.

“No. Just can’t wait to eat is all.” He snagged a deviled egg from a tray as it passed him as a way to emphasize his point.

“Well I am sure Clare will be arriving soon. This will be Olivia’s first big appearance at a state event. We’ll have to really read up on the media reports tomorrow, see how she can fit into our plan.” Thankfully, Annette was called over by another group and she missed the way Duncan’s face paled at the mention of his mother and uncle working her into their master plan. He had vowed to himself over and over that any capital he had within his family would be used to keep her out of their dealings.

It was when the murmur of the crowd fell to a hush then rose back up to its normal volume that he knew they had arrived. He politely pushed himself towards the front of the room where they had entered in the hopes of catching Olivia’s attention before she was whisked away for the rest of the night. Duncan saw her bare back first, his mouth running dry at the sight of her in that blue gown, her leg slightly exposed and the strapless bodice providing enough of her for him to feast on for eternity. She must have brushed something shimmering over her collarbones because he couldn’t take his eyes off the way they reflected the light. He took a step forward in order to intercept her when he noticed an arm snake around her waist. A hand press itself on the bare skin that resided between her shoulder blades. An arm that wasn’t his. A hand that wasn’t his.

He felt his grip on his glass of vodka tighten and he placed it on the nearest table in the fear he would squeeze so tight he’d break it. It didn’t matter who or what the offensive appendage belonged to but it shouldn’t be touching Olivia. Touching the bare skin of the woman he was in love with.

“Duncan! It’s so nice to see you!” His anger faded only slightly as she finally caught his eye in the crowd and made her way over to him, her shadow in tow and his hand not moving from the small of her back. “It’s been quite some time since I’ve seen you.” The sparkle in her eyes at the game she was enjoying playing almost made it more bearable.

“Too long,” he mused in response. She braced her hands on his shoulders in order to reach his cheeks to place a kiss, whispering a promise in his ear that they’d find time to be alone together later. “And who is this?” Duncan aimlessly gestured towards her date.

“Henry Macy. Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Shepherd.” Duncan wasn’t ashamed to say that he made sure to present an extra tight grip when he shook his hand, Olivia watching him intently.

“Henry’s father is the most sought after caucus member in the Senate, isn’t he?” She was doing this for Duncan’s benefit, he was sure of it. Henry looked entirely uncomfortable having the reason for his attendance be broadcast in such a blatant manner but Olivia could not care less. Clearly her warning to Duncan had done nothing to stem the tide of rage that was flowing through him. Answering his questions in non-descript ways would have to suffice until after the event was over.

“I’m sure he receives quite the sought after attention then.” The three of them chuckled politely before an awkward silence set in.

“Shall I get you something to drink, Olivia?” She opened her mouth to respond but Duncan jumped in before she could get the words out.

“Cabernet, if memory serves me correctly.” She shot him a warning glance.

“It does. Thank you, Henry.” He awkwardly placed a kiss to her hand before heading in the direction of the bar. “Duncan, you must behave. You can’t be angry at me.”

“I could never be angry with you, Olivia,” he scoffed, “It’s that prick. He has his hands all over you and it makes me seethe.”

“Anytime you feel the anger becoming too remember that you’re the only man I love.” She took a step closer to him and whispered the next part. “That you’re the only man I’ve considered letting near my-”

“If you’re about to say what I think then please do not because that will do nothing to help me cope with that-” The offensive creature returned with her glass of wine before Duncan could finish his warning.

“Thank you,” Olivia replied warmly while taking a sip and keeping her stern gaze on Duncan over the rim of her glass. He was going to excuse himself to drinking something strong and straight by himself in the corner for the rest of night when her mother approached the trio.

“Duncan, it is so nice to see you. And to see you acquainting yourself with Olivia. I’m sure she’s introduced you to Mr. Macy.” Duncan put on his best political smile and shook her hand warmly.

“An honor to be here tonight, Madame President, and to be in your daughter’s presence.” It was. That bit of his act wasn’t fake.

“I was actually just coming over here to see if my daughter had offered you a personal tour of the floor, Henry. The usual groups don’t come down here but there is still a lot to see.” Olivia’s eyes widened in fear at the thought of her mother expecting her to go on a secluded walk around the White House by herself with this man she had just meant.

“She hadn’t but if you’re willing, Olivia, I’d love to go on one.” Clare didn’t miss the way the Shepherd boys nostrils flared nor did she miss the way his hand twitched as if he was stopping himself from reaching out to her daughter. Olivia looked at Duncan in a silent plea for help but there was nothing he could do without seeming impolite or exposing their secret. He wasn’t unaware of the rumors of the Underwoods using their youthful, graceful, beautiful daughter as leverage but Duncan didn’t think he’d have to see the look of terror in her eyes as it was being asked of her. Or that he would feel a blinding rage to protect her and make sure that any person who tried to have what was his would never be able to have anything again.

“Follow me.” She made sure her hand brushed against Duncan’s as she walked away from the party.

“Stay away from her.” Duncan looked at Clare in horror at her words.

“I’m sorry?”

“You heard me, Duncan. You go near my daughter in any capacity other than for a brief exchange of pleasantries and I’ll bury you.” A biting remark about the extent of the pleasantries he and her daughter had exchanged sat on his tongue but he bit it and nodded once as she walked away from him. There was no question in his mind that the stern glare he had gotten from Olivia only moments before had been a hereditary gift from her mother.

“You know, I’ve heard about the gifts boys who come on these private tours with you get.” Olivia turned around from where she had been leading Henry down a hallway.

“Just nasty rumors. No fear,” she chuckled as she wrapped her arms around herself and continued meandering forward.

“It’s the only reason I agreed to come, Olivia, and I intend on cashing in.” He angled her towards the wall and took measured steps until her back hit against the concrete.

“Stop that. I’m not doing anything with you other than going for a walk.” She moved to get out from the bind he had her in when his hand shot out and tightened around her wrist.

“If your mother wants my father’s vote, then I need something in return.”

“Get your hands off of me,” she spoke through gritted teeth.

“Don’t fight me, Olivia. It’ll only make me go slower.” It was in that moment she realized he wasn’t going to heed her pleas. He was going to take what she wanted no matter what she said in order to stop him. When his head angled to kiss her neck she screamed and used her one free hand to push against his chest which only served him to stumble back a step or two. That was her chance to run back the way she came, her frightened tears obscuring her vision. She didn’t stop until she ran into a body, looking up to see familiar blue eyes.

Duncan looked down at her crying form, the hand shaped bruise around her wrist, and looked up to see Henry adjusting his jacket. It didn’t take him long to put it together.

“Duncan, please. Please just take me home.”

“I’ll only be a moment.” Olivia squeezed her eyes shut, afraid to turn around. “You put your fucking hands on her? Does terrifying a woman make your dick hard?” Duncan wound himself up with each step closer to Henry.

“I’m sure you know of the things people say about that little slut around here, Shepherd. About the things that mouth can do.” Duncan’s fist connected with his jaw with a satisfying snap, his body following him to the ground as he connected again. And again. And again.

It was then that Olivia rushed forward and and grabbed his arm from surging forward again. “Duncan. Duncan, stop! Please! Please, stop!” He grabbed Henry’s collar and pulled his bloodied face closer to his.

“You even look at her again and I’ll fucking kill you.” Duncan let his body drop back to the tiled floor before standing up and turning his attention to Olivia. “What hurts? Where’d he touch you?” He picked up her bruised wrist gently, replacing Henry’s touch with his own in an attempt to remove the imprint from her mind.

“Nowhere. I was running away when you were on your way down the hall.” He nodded.

“The look in your eyes before you left with him...It made me uneasy so came after you.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. He shrugged off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

“I’ll have the car brought around. You head out. Let me make a call to get this taken care of and I’ll be right out.” She kissed him gently with a nod, sparing Henry one last glance before exiting the scene and entrusting Duncan to make it all go away.

That night as she lay next to him in bed she couldn’t help the ache in her chest that made her feel like she needed to let go of a secret she had been holding onto for so long. Or at least she thought it had been a secret.

“It happened once. Me exchanging a physical favor in exchange for political capital for my parents.” She turned her head to look at him, tears streaking down her cheeks in the moonlight. “It’s why I moved to Paris. I couldn’t deal with the dirty feeling. The shame.” Duncan pulled her against him soundlessly.

“You’re the strongest person I know, Olivia. You’re not less than because of it.” He wanted to cry with her. Her pain was his pain and it was washing over him as she trembled slightly against his chest.

“I felt I was unworthy of happiness and love because of it. You changed that, Duncan.”

“I’m never going to let a day go by where you feel that way again, ok? You can come to me with anything. We’re stronger together, right Livy?” He bumped his nose against hers. “I’d set the world on fire for you.” And she thinks in a way that he has already set her world on fire. They just had to make sure they didn’t get burned by the flames of their passion.

[atomic-lexa]

A Chance Meeting (Sole/MacCready)

Prompt 8: A smoky bar and a bad memory

Things couldn’t have been worse. Any fucking worse. This city, if you could call it that, caused nothing but dread to swell in Sole’s stomach. From the environment; a small concave nestled in the surrounding ruins of the Boston Commons, walled off to the bare minimum, smelling of piss-soaked, rotting garbage, sewage, and blood, to the people that inhabited it; everything from junkies crouched in the back alleys, awaiting their next high, to ‘guards’ that looked more threatening than any scavver they’d encountered. They all seemed to know something Sole didn’t. As if the scent of outsider still stained their skin, despite the vault suit being tucked away neatly in their bag.

A glare from the ghoul at the top of the staircase leading down to The Third Rail caused anxious chills to erupt on their skin, and irritation to twist in their chest. They were sick of getting that look, a countenance of distrust and the promise to kill at the slightest hint of a wrong move. Sole just adjusted the collar of the too-large brown leather jacket they wore, secured around their waist with a black belt. The clothes itched, and they’d kill just about anyone for a hot shower right now. Blood and dirt caked the fabric and clogged every pore on their body. But, as was, there were going to be no hot showers soon, if ever. They’d picked up that much, at least. As hostile as the bouncer was, the bar itself seemed less outright offensive; though, everything about it made Sole nervous. The patrons paid them no mind, as they slinked around in the shadows, avoiding the reds and fuchsias of the neon lighting in the bar. A certain peculiarity permeated the air, as though despite the numerous bodies, lukewarm alcohol, and suffocating smoke, the room seemed stale. Cold.

Sole watched the singer on the makeshift stage for a few minutes. She was swaying her hips, which were hugged by a red dress, the likes of which were striking in contrast to the dingy armor or grimy clothes they’d already grown accustom to seeing. Her black hair was cut short, but styled with bangs- again, not something the wastelanders usually sported. It said something about her. Nice clothes and styled hair spoke of luxury, one few could afford. What an anomaly to think that in the old world, such a thing seemed to be a right, as common as any. The singer’s jazzy, swinging voice echoed off the walls of the old subway station, and the harder Sole looked, the more they were able to pick up the small details of just what this bar was. In fact, they could picture what it looked like before the war. They had to stop doing that. It made their chest ache.

After a few minutes of adjusting to their surroundings, Sole dared to go deeper into the dingy room. The bartender was a Mr. Handy, and while the connotations of a robot butler were comforting enough, somehow it didn’t carry itself the same way Codsworth did. Sole didn’t know how a robot could bear a grim expression, but there it was. The nicks, dents, and rusted patched on its metal body brought even less ease. Still, Sole strode up to the counter, trying to carry themselves as effortlessly as the others did. Out of place, out of time, it was useless.

Just before they reached the bar, however, something caught their attention. In between songs and applause, a slight breath of near-silence settled in the bar, just for a few moments. In that short time, they heard deep voices reverberating off the tunnel walls of the bar. Strained, aggressive. Sole turned their head toward the back room on the right side of the bar. Crimson light flooded from a small hallway. It wasn’t guarded; didn’t seem off-limits. Sole glanced around. Nobody else seemed to pay the voices any mind, and the next song began. Those not enraptured by the singer were consumed in their vices, unaware of anything else.

Sole walked slowly toward the back room, heel to toe, as if it were quiet enough for the voices to detect their approach. Better safe than sorry. Such a phrase had never had more meaning to the vault-dweller than it had the past couple weeks since their thawing. A rude awakening. “Can’t say I’m surprised to see you in a dump like this, MacCready.” A low, gravelly voice said. Sole leaned on the frame of the hallway, watching shadows move in the red lighting.

“I was wondering how long it would take your bloodhounds to track me down, Winlock.” Another voice replied. Not as threating, but relaxed and cocky. Sounded younger. “Should we take this outside?” The same voice inquired. “It ain’t like that. I’m just here to deliver a message.” “In case you forgot, I left the gunners for good.” The voice snapped. Gunners. Bad news. But, they made a lot of money. Why would someone leave once they were in? “Yeah, I heard. But you’re still taking jobs in the Commonwealth. And that isn’t going to work for us.” The words were threaded with the promise of action, and Sole considered backing away, into the bar. It wasn’t their business anyway.

“I don't take orders from you... not anymore. So why don't you take your girlfriend and walk out of here while you still can.” The voice taunted. A childish insult, to be sure, but a smile pulled at Soles lips. It was the first thing resembling humor they’d heard since getting off ice. Though, really, their whole situation was laughable, in some macabre, morbid way. “What? Winlock, tell me we don’t have to listen to this shit…” A third voice chimed in. “Listen up, MacCready; The only reason we haven't filled your body full of bullets is that we don't want a war with Goodneighbor. See, we respect other people's boundaries... we know how to play the game. It's something you never learned.” Winlock growled.

“Glad to have disappointed you.” MacCready replied. Sole could all but hear the sneer on his face. “You can play the tough guy all you want. But if we hear you're still operating inside Gunner territory, all bets are off. You got that?” His aggressor said, one last threat to top it off. “You finished?” MacCready asked, sounding just as lazy and bored as he was at the start of the conversation. “Yeah. We’re finished.” Winlock said. Suddenly, it became apparent to Sole that they were moving toward the exit, right toward them. Quickly, they just leaned against a nearby wall and pretended to watch the singer. Very aware of their presence, as the two hulking, brutish men pushed past them, it was difficult feigning ignorance, but if they noticed, they said nothing.

Once the pair were out of sight up the staircase to the entrance, Sole took a deep, fatigued breath. They glanced at the room. Something about the red glare just drew them in. An irresistible promise of finding someone, anyone willing to help them. The risks that were taken in the name of parenthood often outweighed the caution. The man looked just about as dirty as they were, but with a more experienced, longer-standing grime coating his light brown duster. The green cap he wore had bullets tucked into the strap and his sharp features were indeed, as Sole had guessed, graced with a sneer. He looked young, no older than early twenties, and Sole watched as his head cocked slightly, blue eyes moving to scrutinize them. There were more stories in those eyes than any twenty-year-old ought to have. At his side lay a sniper rifle, and Sole tried not to let the sight of it nurture an already-settled sense of anxiety. Guns still made them nervous.

“Hey there. Lookin’ for the best shot in the Commonwealth? Ya found him. And for the right price, I’m on your side.” He said. Sole stepped closer. “What was that argument about?” They inquired, more hesitance lacing their voice than they’d intended. The young merc huffed. “Just some harmless ass- jerks who get off on hassling people. Hoped they wouldn’t scare off business.” “I’m not scared.” Sole reassured him. He raised an eyebrow. “In that case, you look like someone who could use some protection.” “How do you figure?” Sole replied softly, running a thumb over a cut on their hand absentmindedly. “No offence, guy/girl, but you look like a fish outta water.” Sole swallowed, a grin threatening on their lips. “How much, merc?” They asked. “250. Up front.” 

They hesitated. They had exactly 262 caps on them, scraped together from corpses and selling weapons they’d somehow managed to acquire from rotting raiders. Was a mercenary worth a meal? For Shaun, anything. They nodded, and handed him the dough, He looked a little surprised. They noticed how his gaze lingered on the wedding ring that still occupied their finger. A mixture of interest, shock, and something solemn. “Well, boss. RJ MacCready, at your service.”

This is so long, goodness gracious, but give a girl a prompt, and she’ll take it. Just a little imagining that ain’t goin anywhere. It was fun to write tho!

[gerec]

FIRST CHRISTMAS

I did not quite finish this in time for 2017, so here is my first ficlet for the New Year! From my arranged marriage ‘verse All of You and All of Me, where Charles is the 20-something Consort to Erik’s 40-something King of Genosha. 

Notes: Cherik, with mentions of Xavierine. No warnings, though there is a tiny bit of sex. Erik is Jewish so he doesn’t celebrate Christmas, but as king he readily supports the traditions of all of his people.

He wakes on Christmas morning alone, the spot beside him predictably empty, and already cool to the touch.

Though it’s not what gives Charles pause as he luxuriates in his comfortable bed; rather, it’s the conflicted emotions he’s experiencing now and on an almost daily basis, nearly a year after his arrival in Genosha and newly wed to its king.

His head feels a little groggy still from too much brandy, and his limbs ache deliciously from a night of passion, from hours of bliss in the arms of his patient lover. His time with Logan has eroded slowly these past months, with Charles’ duties as Consort increased along with his own desire to serve. It had surprised him, to fall in love so deeply with this bountiful land and its resilient people, aided in no small part by the trip he took with Erik to tour the country, and to see the beauty of Genosha up close.

And it had surprised him even more, to wake up one morning and find his feelings for Erik too irrevocably changed, so much that the early days of their union – filled with cold silences and awkward exchanges – seem now like a lifetime ago, and not mere months in the counting. If pressed, Charles might even concede to a real fondness for his mercurial mate, though whatever else he might feel is still too bewildering to examine in depth. 

Once it had seemed inconceivable, that he would ever become used to waking in his husband’s arms, nestled in his husband’s bed. That it would be Erik’s absence that would seem strange, weeks after the two were first forced to share chambers on the road; a habit that continued inexplicably upon their return to the palace.

Even more inconceivable that the merest specter of guilt should fall over the precious moments Charles spends with Logan, whom he yet loves with his whole heart.

A knock on the door interrupts his jumble of thoughts, dragging Charles further into consciousness as he props himself up on the bed. He grabs his crumpled night shirt off the floor and shrugs it hastily over his shoulders, grimacing when a cramp shoots unexpectedly up his left leg.  

“Come in.”

His discomfort must be have been clear, because Erik is stalking across the room and at his side in a flash, hands bracing him as he rubs gingerly at his calf. It does little to soothe the pain until Erik takes over, Charles’ leg across his lap as he seats himself on the bed, hands warm and sure as they work diligently to ease the tension.

“Better?” Erik asks, amusement evident at the reaction he garners, leveling him with a teasing grin. But Charles is unashamed of the moans being dragged from his lips, slowly relaxing against the pillows under Erik’s skillful hands. “Too much dancing with Raven last night?”

“Possibly,” he answers, ignoring the guilty twinge in his gut. It’s not a lie, not completely – Charles had spent the evening in the company of his sister and Logan, decorating the tree in his rooms and reminiscing over past Christmases at Graymalkin.  There had been singing and dancing, and too much drink; just enough to dull the homesickness that had flared painfully during his favorite time of year. And he had indulged greatly in the opportunity to be with Logan again, to kiss and touch and just be in each other’s company, knowing that his husband would be too busy to interrupt, celebrating his own traditions for the holidays. “I might have pulled a muscle trying to decorate the top of the Christmas tree.”

Erik laughs. “Perhaps I should have asked Reynard to grow you a smaller tree. It’s a good thing you didn’t fall and break a leg on Christmas Eve.”

He would not believe it still if he hadn’t seen the dazzling power for himself; a Gift that allowed one to control and grow plant life rapidly regardless of soil or climate. Reynard had used his power every year to grow the giant Christmas spruce that decorated the palace’s main entry way; this year, he had grown a second, much smaller version specifically for the Consort’s rooms at the King’s behest.

“No it’s perfect,” Charles replies, reaching instinctively for Erik’s hand and giving it a light squeeze. “I want to thank you again, for your kindness. I know you don’t celebrate Christmas yourself…you didn’t have to go to all the trouble of securing me my own tree, and decorations too. It means a lot.”

“I was happy to do it,” Erik says, his hand moving to cup Charles’ cheek. “I know that I haven’t always been the best husband to you—”

“No! You’ve been very generous; I have everything I need—”

“—but I mean to change that, Charles. Perhaps it’s still too soon but someday, I hope our union will become much more than an obligation to you.”

Charles shakes his head. “Erik, I don’t—”

His words are cut short by the press of Erik’s lips, a soft and insistent kiss that bypasses all of Charles’ defenses. More and more he finds himself unable to resist – to guard his emotions and keep them separate from their physical relationship. It’s become much too easy to fall into Erik’s arms and succumb to his touch; to lose himself in the burgeoning heat when he’s pressed gently down onto the bed.

“Erik,” he gasps, already hard from the feel of his husband’s body on top of him, caging him, holding him still. Their attraction to each other has always been intense, even from the first when they were two strangers on their wedding night, forced to share a bed. And time and familiarity has only enflamed their passion since, the sparks igniting red hot with the slightest touch, or a barely whispered name.

He moans then as Erik takes him in hand and strokes him, desire and lust coursing like liquid fire through his veins. Charles bucks and writhes and fucks into Erik’s hand, uncaring of the way he sounds – so wanton and needy, keening as Erik leaves teeth marks all over his skin. Too soon he’s spilling with a cry that Erik inhales hungrily, swallowing the sounds of pleasure tumbling from Charles’ gasping mouth.

“Do you intend to end all our discussions this way?” he pants, taking a few moments to catch his breath as Erik looks down at him with a grin. “And shall I respond to you in kind?”

“Later, if you’re amenable,” is the reply, and Charles arches like a cat against the warm palm stroking his cheek. “I have something to show you that I think you will enjoy very much.”

Charles laughs. “More enjoyable than just now?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Indulge me, all the same.”

He straightens with an exaggerated sigh, and lets Erik tug him carefully onto his feet. Still lax from his release he allows himself to be easily maneuvered, settling back against Erik’s chest as he’s angled towards the drapery covered windows.

“Is it still raining?” Charles teases. “Only, it’s been raining non-stop for the last three days, so I guess it would be quite a surprise if it’s finally stopped.”  

Surprisingly it’s the sub-tropical climate of Genosha that solidifies Charles’ yearning for home, with December falling in the midst of its hottest – and rainiest – season. He aches to be so far from wintery London situated half a world away, where his father and his friends must be attending Church services in the snow.

“It has stopped raining,” Erik whispers, his arms tightening just slightly around Charles’ waist. “Look.”

The heavy drapery pulls open with a flourish, tugged apart by the metal hidden in its seams. It reveals a sight that makes Charles gasp with disbelief; a blanket of white and the flutter of snowflakes falling steadily outside his bedroom window.

“What…how?”

“Ororo,” Erik explains, and Charles is so stunned that he has to take a step closer, and press his nose against the frosted glass. “I asked if she could change the weather for us, temporarily of course. And just over the palace grounds.”

Charles is speechless for long moments, his eyes drifting over the trees and the flowers, all covered in an inch of snow. For a moment he can pretend that he’s looking out his bedroom at Graymalkin, and the ache in his chest morphs into something dangerously close to...

“It’s beautiful,” he breathes, instead of following his thoughts down that treacherous path. “I can’t believe it. You brought me snow.”

“I know that you miss home,” Erik acknowledges, and Charles has to close his eyes at the painful sincerity in his voice. “I know it’s not the same thing; that I can’t really give you a snowy Christmas in London, or your father’s presence…”

Charles turns and wraps his arms around his husband, tugging him close. “No, this is…I don’t know how to tell you how much this means to me. I love it. Thank you, Erik.”

“You’re welcome,” Erik replies with a sigh, nuzzling his face in Charles’ still unruly hair. “I think, in the new year, we can make plans for a trip to London. To see your king, and pay a visit to the Admiral.”

And what else can Charles do then but kiss him? For giving Charles the very thing he’d wished for but could have never expected. “You’ve made me the happiest man in Genosha, Erik Lehnsherr.”

Erik smiles. “As you have with me, Charles.”

[asroarke]

Sooo I know you're still on the fence about doing a sequel to double infinity but please? For Christmas? Also merry Christmas. I just loved double infinity so much and you so pretty please think about doing it thanks love you!

I’m really glad you liked Double Infinity. By sequel, do you mean the Clarke POV? Because I have no plans for an actual sequel (tbh I don’t even know what I would do for a sequel. All the big bads are dead). I keep going back and forth on the Clarke POV, honestly. I haven’t completely decided what I’m going to work on after Fatal Innocence, and the Clarke POV might be a nice thing to work on as I transition back to school next month.

But since it’s Christmas (okay yesterday was Christmas, but Tumblr mobile doesn’t ever tell me when I get messages so I’m a little late) I have a little chunk of what Clarke’s POV would look like for you. I had to write this out when I worked on chapter five of Double Infinity anyway to get Clarke’s reactions right, so I cleaned it up a little bit for you. Merry Christmas! Happy Holidays!

“Hey, Clarke. It’s Bellamy again. I’m sorry I’m filling upyour inbox with these voicemails, but I haven’t heard from you and am gettingworried. Please, call me back. I miss you,” Bellamy said before hanging up, andClarke’s finger hovered over the delete button.

“If you won’t delete it, I will,” Raven huffed sleepily, andClarke glanced over at her. Raven had stretched herself out quite comfortablyin her window seat.

Clarke deleted it, before tucking her phone back into herpocket. “Happy?” Clarke said, with a raised eyebrow, and Raven rolled her eyes.

“You could just talk to him,” Raven suggested, and Clarkewaved to the flight attendant, signaling for another drink. She only hadanother hour before she landed, and there was no way in hell she was sufferingthrough Lorelei Tsing’s memorial sober.

“I don’t have all the facts and he’ll probably just lie tome,” Clarke groaned. After all, Bellamy and Marcus had clearly been planningwhatever this was for years. He wouldn’t jeopardize the plan for Clarke. He hadno way of trusting her. And she had no way of trusting him.

She shot the flight attendant a thankful look, before takinga drink. She could feel Raven’s eyes on her, but Clarke wasn’t in the mood to getinto the same argument all over again. Raven had her reasons for wanting toknow what Bellamy and Marcus were up to. And Clarke promised Marcus years agothat she would stay out of it, so that’s what she was going to do. She’d finishup her business in Arkadia, end things quickly with Bellamy, and get the hellout of there, letting Marcus deal with Thelonious the way he sees fit.

It was what was best for everyone, she decided. Clarke wasjust a foot in the door for Bellamy and Octavia, and she shouldn’t take it personally.

She had played that first day over and over in her head,remembering how Octavia seemed determined to get Wells’ attention… so it wasn’teven like Clarke was originally targeted. She was a last-ditch effort to salvagetheir original plan, apparently. It wasn’t personal. She was just there and tootrusting. And now that the Blakes were well-known figures in Arkadia, Bellamydidn’t need her anymore.

“You gonna slow down?” Raven asked, and Clarke glanced downat her glass, realizing it was empty.

“Would you?” Clarke replied.

“If I was falling for someone who was just using me,probably not,” Raven retorted.

“I’m not falling for Bellamy,” Clarke snapped, and Raven’seyebrows raised. “I liked him, but he’s been playing me since the first time Ispoke to him. Whatever it was I liked about him was probably also a lie,” Clarkecontinued, but Raven wasn’t buying it. But Clarke meant it. She was just happyshe caught on before things got serious.

“I’ve read his file too, Clarke. I know you understand whyhe’s doing this,” Raven whispered, and Clarke threw her head back. Bellamy’sstory was one of the most heartbreaking ones Clarke had encountered, and shehad spent the last few years hearing hundreds of the Mt. Weather stories.Bellamy was the one who found Aurora, and he was so young when it all happened.Then, there were all his foster care nightmares. Clarke’s family ruined his life.

She didn’t blame him for what he was trying to do. She didn’tblame him for making her a mark, for using her. But that didn’t mean she trustedhim.

“Will you at least tell me where you went?” Wells asked, andClarke leaned her head on his shoulder.

“Nowhere interesting,” she slurred, and Wells groaned. Itprobably wasn’t the smartest decision to get drunk before a memorial service,but Clarke didn’t give a shit. There was maybe one person here that sheactually cared about, and his name was Wells Jaha. Plus, she was supposed to beconvincing her mother she was off on a bender… so showing up drunk was a nicetouch.

“I’ll be right back,” Wells mumbled, and Clarke sat up, and proppedher feet up in his chair. Luckily, no one had bothered to come talk to her…which she was grateful for. She glanced around, noticing more of the same facesshe always saw. Dante and Cage Wallace looked awfully smug. God, she hoped Bellamywould do something awful to Dante. He didn’t ruin Pike’s life enough, honestly.Clarke had expected a bit more from someone trained by Marcus Kane.

“Hey, Clarke,” she heard a familiar voice say, and Clarke’sstomach dropped. She narrowed her sunglasses as she looked up at Bellamy Blake.

“What are you doing here?” she snapped without thinking.

“I’m here to pay my respects to Dr. Tsing, just like you,”he said as he sat down beside her, and Clarke had to fight the urge to laugh.After all, Tsing wouldn’t be dead if it weren’t for Bellamy and Octavia. “I’mhappy to see you again, by the way,” he snapped, and Clarke’s jaw clenched. Hehad no right to act passive aggressive about her disappearing act. It wasn’tlike anything here was real anyway.

“Sure,” Clarke muttered, facing forward. Then, she heardWells’ footsteps as he came up to sit beside her.

“Clarke, have you told Bellamy where you’ve been for thepast week?”

“Why is everyone obsessed with what I’ve been up to?” shesnapped, tilting her head up to glare at Wells, but she lost her balance. Shecould feel Bellamy’s hand on her back, propping her up. And now Clarke wishedshe had hidden up in her room for this damn thing… she wouldn’t have had to be here,to be with him.

“We’re worried about you,” Wells grumbled, grabbing ahold ofClarke’s hand. She swallowed, feeling a brief flash of guilt over Wells. He wasan innocent in all of this. He didn’t deserve Clarke lashing out or throwingtemper tantrums. He had no idea what his father did all those years ago, and hedidn’t know that Clarke’s alleged boyfriend was using Clarke.

“Let’s just get this over with,” Clarke sighed.

“You could at least pretend to be sad,” Wells whispered, andClarke’s lips twitched. She didn’t feel sad at all. Not over Lorelei Tsing, thewoman who fucked up Clarke’s head to the point that Clarke couldn’t even tellwhat was real and what wasn’t.

“Dr. Tsing taught me a long time ago that we can’t dwell onthe dead. That it’s not healthy,” Clarke snapped, thinking back to all thosesessions where Tsing snapped at Clarke over the fact that Clarke couldn’tmove on from her dad’s death. Clarke was only seven and knew the truth… but noone would believe her, or so she thought. Actually, everyone knew she wastelling the truth. Her mother just paid Tsing heavily to convince Clarke thatshe was making it all up.

“Clarke.”

“What? I’m just honoring her by not shedding a fucking tear,”Clarke slurred, and Wells pulled his hand from her clasp to cover his face withboth his hands. Then, she felt Bellamy’s arm stretch across her shoulders,before pulling her closer to him. Clarke’s chest grew tighter as she glanced upat him.

“Let’s just get through the service,” Bellamy whispered beforekissing her forehead, and suddenly Clarke felt like she couldn’t breathe. This wasn’t real, she reminded herself.Nothing Bellamy said or did with her was real. None of this was real. It didn’t matter how comfortable orreal it felt, it wasn’t real.

When Clarke’s eyes opened, it was a little too bright in herroom. She clenched them shut again, trying to remember how she even got intoher bed. She remembered sitting at the memorial… but everything after it wasblurry.

Then, she realized she heard breathing. Her eyes flutteredopen again, and she realized her head was resting on Bellamy’s chest.

She jerked away, rolling over to the other side of her bedto grab the water and aspirin that had been laid out for her.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, and Clarke realized shewasn’t drunk anymore. There was nothing left to dull the ache she felt whenevershe heard his voice.

“I’m fine,” she snapped, climbing out of the bed. She neededto get away from him. Clarke knew none of this was real, that Bellamy was justplaying her… he was only here because that’s what a good boyfriend would do. Hewas playing the part. He didn’t actually care about Clarke, how could he? Herfamily ruined his life.

“Clarke, what’s going on with you?” Bellamy asked, as Clarkemade her way to her closet.

“Nothing, I just got a little drunk. It was a long plane ride,”she mumbled, tugging a shirt and pants from her closet.

“Why didn’t you answer any of my calls?”

She could hear the slightest bit of genuine concern in hisvoice, and for a moment, she relaxed. But she didn’t turn around to look athim. She couldn’t. She didn’t trust herself to not get sucked back in.

For the past week, Clarke had been going back and forth,trying to decide if there was any part of Bellamy that actually cared for Clarke…if any of it could have been real. Her mind knew better. But her heart? Thatwas a different story.

“I don’t know,” she mumbled.

“Clarke, I missed you,” he whispered, and her chesttightened back up again. Of course, he was lying to her. He didn’t miss her. Heneeded his target back, his mark.

“You know, I just remembered I have to make a few phonecalls about an event coming up. I’ll call you tomorrow,” she lied quickly,practically sprinting into her bathroom to change. She kept her ear pressed tothe door, listening to him slowly make his way out of her bedroom.

Then, she let out a sob she had been holding in for abouttwenty-four hours, and fell to her bathroom floor. It wasn’t real, she reminded herself. Bellamy was just using her.He didn’t miss her. He didn’t worry about her. He just needed to keep herclose.

She had planned her breakup speech long before she got backin the country. Raven had helped her. If Bellamy really only needed her as afoot in the door, it should go over easily. Then, Clarke could get the hell outof his horrible city and take her time getting herself back together. She’dnever have to see Bellamy Blake again, would never have to worry aboutsomething like this happening to her again.

But when her phone started ringing, her heart nearlystopped. “Hey,” Clarke answered, leaning back in her chair.

“Hey, Clarke,” Bellamy replied, and Clarke took a deepbreath.

“What’s up?” she asked casually. She could do this. Bellamywould understand. Maybe it wouldn’t go along with his plan, but he could adapt.He didn’t need her.

“I was wondering if you wanted to come over. I haven’t seenyou much lately and I miss you,” he said, and Clarke let out a sigh. It was badenough that they had already slept together… that he was willing to go that far to keep this whole charade up.

“Bellamy, I’m not sure that’s a great idea,” she repliedcarefully, making sure to keep her growing irritation in check. Bellamy couldn’tknow that she figured out what he was doing. Clarke had no idea how he wouldreact to that information, and it wasn’t like she should have anything to dowith this.

“Clarke,” he started.

“Look,” she cut him off before he said anything to lessenher resolve. “We kind of got thrown into this when my step-father sprung his PRplan on us, and things are just moving so fast…” she sighed, hoping he wouldget the damn point. It was over. She was done. She had no interest in being ina fake relationship. She knew it was better for her to not get involved in thisplan, that she didn’t have the heart to dish out the revenge that Theloniousand her mother had coming to them. She was too close to this whole thing. Sheneeded to get out.

“I was fine with that. And before you took off, you weretoo,” he retorted, and Clarke swallowed. He wasn’t making this easy on her.

“I don’t know, Bellamy,” she muttered, clenching her eyesshut. He didn’t need her anymore. He was close with Wells, knew everyone on thelist well enough that he could continue his plan.

And if there was a part of him, maybe a small part of him,that cared about Clarke, he would let her get out of this. Bellamy knew Clarkewas innocent, that she was only six when Mt. Weather happened. She wasn’t a target,just a mark.

She read through his file over and over again, seeingevidence that he had a conscience everywhere. He had to know that this plan wouldhurt Clarke, and would try to minimize whatever damage came her way. If she waspushing him away, he would let her go. That, she was pretty certain about.

“Please, stop pulling away from me,” he pleaded, and Clarke’sbrows furrowed as she pressed the phone closer to her ear. “Look, I know wehaven’t known each other that long, but I can’t stop thinking about you,” hesaid, and for a moment, Clarke forgot he was lying. But there was something thatscared her more: she wanted to believehim. “I’m falling for you, Clarke.”

She sat up straighter, caught off guard by that particularlie. No, this couldn’t be happening. Bellamy may be a liar, but Clarke knew him. He wouldn’t do this. He wouldn’tbe willing to lead Clarke on like this just to get closer to her family. Hewasn’t one of those people. She was certain about that, at least.

“What?” she asked, hoping he’d take it back.

“I love you,” Bellamy said with so much certainty in hisvoice, and Clarke’s thoughts were screaming that none of this is real. She worried her bottom lip, before standingup. She paced towards the bookcases, trying to get her thoughts to slow downenough for her to figure out how to move forward.

She should say she doesn’t feel the same way and hang up. Shecould do that and still get out of this. But she wasn’t so sure she wanted torun, now.

No, Bellamy just told her the worst lie he possibly could ina desperate attempt to keep her. If she was just an easy mark, he wouldn’t havegone to the effort. She was a target.

Clarke didn’t know Bellamy. Not even a little bit. Anyjudgement she made about his character was wrong, horribly wrong. He didn’tcare if she got hurt. There wasn’t even a small part of him that cared abouther. If there was, he wouldn’t have said the one thing that would devastateher.

“I love you too,” she lied quietly, praying that she wasbelievable.

Clarke wasn’t going anywhere. She couldn’t trust Bellamy. Ifhe was willing to do this, someone needed to keep an eye on him.

When she got to Echo’s apartment, she and Raven weresprawled out on her couch. The two of them were going over the A.L.I.E. program,planning their next move.

“How’d the fake boyfriend take it?” Echo mumbled.

“He said he loves me,” Clarke replied, which caught Echo’sattention.

“He did what?” Echo growled, crossing her arms. Raven didn’tbother to join in, keeping her eyes on the screen in front of her.

“Bellamy Blake lied and said he loves me,” Clarke repeated,raising an eyebrow.

“He needs something from you,” Echo realized, cocking herhead to the side.

“What could he possibly need? He already has cameras in herfucking house,” Raven grumbled, and Clarke’s eyes widened.

“He what?” Clarke yelled, glaring at Echo, who let out ahuff.

“We just found out ourselves,” Echo replied, but Clarke wasalready grinding her teeth together. Bellamy was spying on her too. Sure, he probablyjust installed it to have surveillance on her mother and Thelonious, but therewas no way in hell he wasn’t using it to spy on Clarke too. Fuck, he probablywas watching her during that damn phone call.

“I want them out of my house,” she growled, and Echo furrowedher brows.

“No, he needs them to know what your parents are up to,”Echo said, and Clarke’s jaw clicked. “Clarke, he needs to keep surveillance ifhe’s going to stay on schedule. You want him gone, right? This is how heleaves.”

Clarke started pacing back and forth, thinking this over. Echowas right, of course. Bellamy wouldn’t leave until this whole horror showplayed itself out… which meant if Clarke wanted him gone, she needed to helpspeed it all up. That meant leaving up the cameras, letting him use her…

“I want to know everything he knows,” Clarke decided, andRaven’s lips twitched into a smile.

“I’ll need access to one of their phones. Those Jascorp boysare helping him. Maybe I could get one of their phones,” Raven replied, andClarke nodded along.

“Clarke, what are you doing?” Echo asked, and Clarke bit herlip. “You’ve told me over and over you don’t want anything to do with this. Youcould literally just walk away.”

Clarke swallowed, looking down at the ground. She shouldjust walk away. But she didn’t trust Bellamy. She didn’t know what he wasplanning. For all she knew, more people could get hurt.

“You’re taking this personally, aren’t you?” Echo asked, andClarke shot her a glare.

“Of course not,” Clarke spat. Echo stood up, slowly walkingover with a concerned look on her face.

“You let him in, and you don’t let people in,” Echowhispered cautiously.

“Stop.”

“That’s what it is, isn’t it? You finally trusted someoneagain and he—”

“Stop!” Clarke snapped, and Echo swallowed. Echo didn’t sitback down or move away from Clarke, but just stood there patiently, waiting forClarke to say something. “I don’t. It’s not that… Look, what he’s doing to meis fucked up. I get why he’s doing it, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want topunch him any less,” Clarke growled, and Echo’s lips twisted up in a smile.

“Just tell me what you want from me,” Echo smirked, andClarke took a deep breath.

“I want cameras in his house. And his office. I want to knowwhat he’s doing at all times. I want to figure out who he is targeting from thelist,” Clarke listed off, and Echo’s grin only grew as she continued.

“Next up is Dante Wallace,” Echo explained, and Clarkenodded along. “And what are you going to do with your loving boyfriend?”

“Use him like he’s using me,” Clarke snapped.

[evakfanficsrecs]

Hey guys!

As you might know, this week is the Skam Fic Week happening, and since we are a Skam (Evak focused) Fic Rec Blog, we wanted to get in on the fun! Hence, in the spirit of the event, we’ll be holding our own so called SKAM FIC REC WEEK, yay!

How will this work? - First of all, you should read the introduction post to the actual event hosted by the lovely @littlespooneven to gain understanding of what this is all about… Now onto our spin on the event… we will be picking our favorites of every day and adding them to this post which will be updated between Midnight and 1am CEST/6pm and 7pm EST daily!

Here are some small guidelines we have in place for this event (so we don’t lose our sanity):

only recommending Evak centered fics

only recommending fics that are either tagged with the #SkamFicWeek tag or/and have a clarification in the notes that it is in fact an entry for the event

sometimes we might add bonus recs for fics which are posted after our update time

We’re super excited to do this, since during the last Skam writing event, we got a lot of requests to participate and we couldn’t miss out on the opportunity this time! Hopefully you guys will all enjoy it too, as this is not only our way to praise our favorite authors of this amazing fandom, but also a gift to our lovely followers whom we appreciate and love dearly :’) We also figured this would be a great way to organize all the great new recs so everyone can access them easily!

Without further ado, you can find all the recs under the cut and make sure to check back in for 5-10 new recs every day! Have fun ♥

All the love,

Andie & Liv

*

DAY 1: ACCIDENTAL/FAKE DATING

how to get a guy in seven days by thekardemomme Summary: Even and Yousef won’t make a move, so Sana and Isak take matters into their own hands. It doesn’t go exactly as planned. Recommended by: Andie, Liv

my longing drives me crazy for you by highpraises Summary: Isak’s mum worries, Isak makes bad life decisions and Even loves Isak. Recommended by: Andie, Liv

makin’ me a mess by itjustkindahappened Summary: The boy gives him a look of alarm, making a weak attempt at drawing his hand back, but Isak keeps holding it convulsively as he looks pleadingly into the stranger’s eyes. “Listen, this is super humiliating for me but I’m currently getting stood up on a date and my ex is a waiter here and he’s already been walking past my table too many times and looked far too satisfied for it to be casual so can you please just—pretend to be my date or something? I’ll pay for dinner and everything, I’m really sorry about this, I just—please?” Recommended by: Andie

friends don’t treat me like you do by hippopotamus Summary: Isak’s going to humiliate himself in front of Even’s friends because he has no idea how to be - pretend to be - in a relationship. What is Even expecting him to do? Hold his hand? Kiss him? Hold eye contact with him for more than two seconds? Isak can’t do any of that. And he also can’t sleep. Recommended by: Andie

last night by bbyfruit   Summary: Alright, so Isak is pretty used to waking up hungover in the middle of the afternoon, especially at this point in his seventeen years of living. He’s also pretty used to waking up in Jonas’s bed, usually with Jonas curled up beside him, light that comes in through Jonas’s window and hits Isak right in the face. What he’s not used to is Jonas’s arm slung over his hip and no memory of what the fuck got them to this point. Recommended by: Andie

I May Have a Little Crush on You? by shipblur Summary: Even helps Isak out of a tight spot. Recommended by: Andie, Liv

Runaway Boyfriend by stories_and_dreams Summary: Stuck in an airport and trying to get back home to his friends’ wedding, Isak Valtersen is surprised to run into a former classmate from his old school back in Norway. Even Bech Naesheim. They barely know each other, and somehow, before he knows it, Even becomes his “pretend boyfriend” for the weekend wedding. They end up having a great time together but when the weekend’s over so is their relationship, right? Destiny has a different plan, as they keep running into each other again… and again…and again. Will they ever become real boyfriends and stop running from each other? Recommended by: Liv

The best boyfriend by champagneleftie Summary: “Hey man, what’s up. I’m Isak.” The guy still looks confused, like he has no idea what’s happening, so Isak decides it’s probably best to be as obvious as possible.“Vilde’s boyfriend.” This is the possible love of Even’s life, the most perfect boy he’s ever laid his eyes on, with the perfect height and perfect lips and sometimes he does this little thing with his tongue that reduces Even to a puddle of feelings – and he has a girlfriend. * A very liberal interpretation of the fake relationship trope. Recommended by: Andie, Liv

Andie’s BONUS REC: I couldn’t possibly leave this list without mentioning Ciara’s (aka the actual creator’s of this event) brilliant entry which you can read either on her blog or in her collection of various oneshots/drabbles on AO3.

*

DAY 2: BED SHARING

quantum mechanics of fate by thekardemomme Summary: Isak is scared of thunderstorms, and Even is the only one home to help him sleep. Recommended by: Andie, Liv

Not in my bed by Taraxacus Summary: Even is in Isak’s room, soaked wet. He’s staying for the night, and he and Isak will have to share Isak’s bed. Considering they are just friends, it shouldn’t be this nerve wracking. And yet. Isak’s heart is beating loud, louder than the thunder inside, and all the while Even is looking like a dream. Fluff ensues. Recommended by: Andie

seasons may change (but i love you) by kittpurrson Summary: Three times Even and Isak share a bed platonically, and one time as more. Recommended by: Andie

Double Trouble by obscurial Summary: Furrowing his eyebrows in utter confusion, Isak narrows his eyes, trying his very best to formulate a single articulate thought. (System failure.) “What the fuck?” he very eloquently blurts out, gesturing wildly to the two Evens sitting in his bed, one in a visible state of undress and the other wearing one of Isak’s old t-shirts. The two of them do not seem to be worried in the slightest, which only serves to fuel Isak’s panic. (An au where Isak wakes up and he finds two Evens lying in his bed.) Recommended by: Andie

BELLA by LiliMane Summary: “I don’t think you’re a kitten expert, Even, so you shouldn’t be running your mouth in regards to kitten issues with such confidence.” Recommended by: Liv

Sleep on it by unsungyellowraincoat Summary: ”I can’t deal with you right now,” Isak says, turning his head away. “I’ll sleep on the couch.” Recommended by: Andie, Liv

loving you to sleep by highpraises Summary: Even and Isak cuddle a lot, and love each other a whole lot. Recommended by: Andie, Liv

The Motel Stay by dear_ida Summary: Out of gas, the boys are forced to stay overnight at a motel and share a bed. This obviously works well for everyone. Recommended by: Andie

this house is falling apart by bbyfruit Summary: Pros of living with your best friends: they do cool shit with you. Cons of living with your best friends: sometimes their definition of cool shit is forcing you to go camping and share a sleeping bag with a stranger. Recommended by: Andie

just move in close to me by allyasavedtheday Recommended by: Andie

*

DAY 3: ALTERNATIVE FIRST MEETING

And for special effects he has six filters by imminentinertia Summary: lbr, it’s sheer luck (and Isak’s love-struck POV) whenever Even comes across as suave (well, maybe except for the carefully executed slo-mo walk). This is what really happened in the school bathroom. Recommended by: Andie

the one with the hot naked guy by pansexuaIeven Summary: Eva’s apartment comes with a view of a hot naked guy. Isak isn’t complaining. (Or, a fic inspired by ugly naked guy on Friends) Recommended by: Andie

ride it, cowboy by highpraises Summary: Isak is a talented rider and Even is pretty sure he’s in love. Recommended by: Andie, Liv  

Literal Adonis by champagneleftie Summary: Sana and Isak have lunch and Isak meets a literal Adonis. Recommended by: Andie

Make you work up a sweat by diamondjacket Summary: Even is deeply, utterly, monumentally screwed. Also, if Even could actually get deeply, utterly, monumentally screwed by the dude in front of him, preferably into a mattress in the next forty-five seconds, that would be great. Recommended by: Andie, Liv  

slippin’ away at the end of the day into dreams of the two of us running away by wyoheartsmusic Summary: Isak sends an awkward text to a wrong number. It’s the best mistake he’s ever made. Recommended by: Andie, Liv

The Very Personal Shopper by Crazyheart Summary: A shopping service AU. * Isak is too lazy to shop his groceries, and too fed up with Eskild’s complaints, and finds that a shopping service would be perfect. But what could he do when his personal shopper turned out to be the most gorgeous guy he had ever seen? Recommended by: Liv

The Times We Meet by falsified Summary: Even is a cab driver who Isak keeps meeting unintentionally (and intentionally). Recommended by: Andie, Liv

when i met you, when we started off (it sure was a different kind of love) by dewdrops Summary: Sana is supposed to tutor Even but can’t make it due to some vague, unforeseeable events. Recommended by: Andie

*

DAY 4: REWRITTEN/EXTENDED CANON SCENE

You Know How I’ve Been Acting a Little Weird Lately? by kapplebougher Summary: Isak’s finally opened up to Jonas. Jonas feels relieved, and happy, and proud…but also a little guilty. (A little microfic window into Jonas’ thoughts once he’s come home after his kebab with Isak at the end of ep 6) Recommended by: Andie, Liv

I think you’ll find I’m the master here by evakuality Summary: “You’re older than me! I’m the master, and you’re still tired too, so don’t be a fucking dick.” Or… what happens after Even gets his boner at Isak’s birthday party. Recommended by: Andie, Liv

Destinations set by imminentinertia Summary: Isak hasn’t planned anything. Even has, or at least he’s had a flash of inspiration. He doesn’t get his Amazing Magical Extra Special Pool First Kiss, though. Recommended by: Andie, Liv

you’ve got the light to fight the shadows by highpraises Summary: Isak’s thoughts after Mekke Øl. Recommended by: Andie, Liv  

Syng by waitineedaname Summary: It was supposed to be a good night. He’d go out with his boyfriend and their friends, have a couple beers, sing a little karaoke. It wasn’t supposed to end up like this. Recommended by: Andie, Liv

BONUS REC: allyasavedtheday’s drabble on the prompt: What would have happened if the little girl didn’t find the boys in the pool back in episode 4? Recommended by: Andie, Liv 

*

DAY 5: WORK COLLEAGUES AU

Thank You for Flying Norwegian Air! by falsified Summary: Isak and Even are both flight attendants who definitely don’t have feelings for each other. Seriously. They’re just friends. Right? Recommended by: Andie, Liv

It Only Takes a Taste (When You Know It’s Good) by shakespeareandsunshine Summary: It would be bad enough if it was just some mystery coworker stealing meals from the office fridge. Then Isak could hate their anonymous ass in peace. But no, Isak has a very good idea who the culprit is. And seeing the villain in the breakroom every day, smiling at Isak like he has nothing to apologize for was testing Isak’s very limited patience. And also probably his self-control, although for an entirely different reason. Recommended by: Andie

i tried to be strong but i lost it (i knew it was wrong, i’m beyond it) by highpraises Summary: Even has a thing for his intern, Isak has a thing for his boss, they’re both a bit clueless and their friends just want them to get their shit together. Recommended by: Andie, Liv  

Mamma Mia by MermaidsandMermen (SophiaSoames) Summary: The workmates AU for day 5 of Skam Fic Week. And it had to be IKEA, and it had to be Evak, and it has to be ABBA. Of course. A tiny bit of Sweden in the middle of Oslo. Recommended by: Andie, Liv  

EVEN by LiliMane Summary: Whatever. People come and go. Sometimes they don’t come at all. Sometimes they only send you money. And the ones that come don’t stay too long. But that’s how it is and there’s nothing I can do about it. Not that I want to do anything about it. I can accept reality. I’ve been doing nothing but accepting reality since the day I stopped dreaming. And I’m doing quite well, if I do say so myself. Recommended by: Liv

Colleagues? by bashfulisak Summary: Isak and Even have been work colleagues for three years - a couple for two - and they like to call the office their “second home” for multiple reasons. Recommended by: Liv

Unclassified by bri_ness Summary: “Separate fiction from fact, romances from tragedies, the stories you want to experience from the ones you’d rather ignore.” * Isak and Even flirt in a library while having some deep thoughts about cataloging. Recommended by: Andie 

stuck on you (what did i do?) by itjustkindahappened Summary: It’s not that Even doesn’t try to be friendly with him—Isak just makes it so hard. Whenever Even approaches, Isak either makes up a fumbling excuse to leave, or just becomes really stiff and refuses to acknowledge Even’s existence. Whenever Even’s tried to talk to him Isak has just stared into his coffee and mumbled out one-word answers until Even’s had to give up, and it’s just so unfair. Because Isak’s just fine around everyone else—he laughs and jokes around, and Even can just watch from afar how his eyes crinkle up with sunshine and wish he could get to be the one that put them there. Or, a teacher AU with zero teaching and a lot of crushing. Recommended by: Andie 

I Don’t Date Cops by jinglebin Summary: Isak gets a new colleague and he’s instantly smitten. Until said collegue tells him he doesn’t date cops. * Isak and Even at the 99th precinct. Recommended by: Andie

BONUS REC: Ink About Me by readwritesleep Summary: They all have stories on their skin. That’s why they do this, because they love stories. The tricky part is, stories don’t turn into reality until they start to mix. When Even steps through the door of the tattoo parlour, a new story enters. Even might only have eyes for Isak, but Jonas can sense reality shifting around all of them. Recommended by: Andie (I know this one isn’t technically Evak centered and it’s from Jonas’ POV, but I loved it so much that I just had to include it anyway.)  

*

DAY 6: WEDDING GUESTS AU

can’t stop thinking of your diamond mind by ahana Summary: I’ve been hashtag blessed, is all Isak can think. * Or, Even crashes a wedding and Isak’s not too happy about it, until he is. Recommended by: Andie, Liv 

The Disaster Wedding by Jules1398 Summary: Even goes with Isak to his cousin’s wedding. Recommended by: Andie

Always the Guest, Never the Groom by allyasavedtheday Recommended by: Andie

we could burn and crash, we could take a chance by highpraises Summary: Even meets Isak outside of a wedding and experiences love at first sight. Recommended by: Andie, Liv 

BONUS REC: Balance by waitineedaname Summary: Jonas and Mikael are the best men and best friends to the newest and sappiest married couple in Oslo. And yet, they’ve barely spoken to each other. Why don’t they change that? Recommended by: Andie (Again, not Evak centered, but super cute if you like a bit of Jonas x Mikael!)

BOUNS REC: Best Man Support Group by bri_ness Summary: “I’m having an existential crisis at my best friend’s rehearsal dinner.” “What a cliché.” * Jonas and Mikael bond as they help Isak and Even prepare for their wedding. Recommended by: Liv (Not Evak, but is Jonas x Mikael!) 

*

DAY 7: BASED ON A 'FRIENDS' EPISODE OR A MOVIE

the one with the disastrous double date by highpraises Summary: Isak and Magnus agree to set each other up with blind dates, but Magnus forgets to find Isak a guy. Recommended by: Andie, Liv  

TOW The Blackout by bri_ness Summary: “I’m stuck in an elevator with Hot Neighbour.” Recommended by: Andie, Liv  

off the maps by ahana Summary: “I can’t stop running back to you,” Even whispered into the quiet of the night. Isak looked at him, green eyes unwavering. “Is that a bad thing?” “I don’t know yet.” Or, a Brokeback Mountain AU. Recommended by: Andie

Those magic changes my heart arranges by diamondjacket Summary: He slowly, cautiously lifts his gaze. And his eyes run smack into blue ones he thought he’d never see again. Those blue eyes widen immediately, and that soft, pillowy mouth— the same mouth that had tasted Isak’s, not long ago— drops open in shock. “Isak?” Recommended by: Andie, Liv

I’m Flying by bashfulisak Summary: Isak meets Even on the RMS Titanic - and somehow, someway, they fall in love. Recommended by: Andie

Pinstripes (Are All That They See) by shakespeareandsunshine Summary: “No. No no no no no. Nope. Nuh uh. Not happening.” This, surprisingly, from Magnus, finally fully awake and shaking his head vehemently. “We are not putting out a hit on the poster child for happiness.” Isak can’t help but agree. “Not the man,” Jonas says, exasperated. “The dog.” And, well. That certainly changes things. (Otherwise known as that Heist AU you never knew you needed.) Recommended by: Andie

The One With Jonas’ Wedding by allyasavedtheday Recommended by: Andie 

the one where even is extra by bbyfruit Summary: In which Even tries way too hard, Isak is just trying to deliver some damn pizza, and the Balloon squad are best bros. Recommended by: Andie

that's how you know by colazitron Summary: The boy of one's dream doesn't usually metaphorically fall into one's lap through a magical well from a parallel universe. But sometimes, he does. Or: a Disney's Enchanted AU. Recommended by: Andie

the one with the prom video by thekardemomme Summary: Even has been in love with Isak since they were younger, but he never intended for Isak to find out this way. Recommended by: Andie

[lubdubsworld]

Amor Vincit Omnia ( Yoongi/OC)

Chapter 6

"Can you hear me, you little bitch?! If you speak to any guy ever again, I'll rip your fucking gut out!!"

I crouched underneath the bed, stunned and horrified. My father was screaming from the other side of the door. I'd jammed a chair underneath the doorknob and I prayed he wouldn't break it down. It was all my fault. Father had driven to school to pick me up and he'd seen me holding hands with my lab-partner. He'd given the boy a cold glare. When we came home, he made me watch as he fired the boy's father from his company and forced him to pull the kid out of our school.

"All that so called beauty you got from your mother....I'll be damned if your throw it away to the dogs like a whore. You'll marry the guy I ask you to and you'll be a virgin when you do. !!"

The door suddenly banged open and his shadow fell on the faded carpet. I whimpered in terror. He was going to hit me again....

I sat up screaming, hands scrambling for something ...anything...

I ended up tossing myself out of the bed, the impact jarring my ribs so badly I couldn't breathe. I lay on the floor , tears slipping down my face as I tried to even out my breathing. My ribs felt like they were on fire. I was burning up. I lay there for a while, waiting for someone to come. But no one did. Still shuddering, I tried bracing my wrist against the floor to pull myself up. The pain in my rib was growing stronger by the second. But I was used to pain. It's like pulling a band-aid really. You should always just get it over with. Dragging out your own suffering is never productive.

I took a deep breath and sat up quickly, grabbing the bed and getting myself to stand. It's easy to cope with pain once you learn to dissociate yourself from it, mentally. Don't acknowledge it. Focus your mind on something else. It's actually surprisingly effective. I gave the room a quick glance. It looked the same and I was infinitely glad that Hyo Rin was out for the day. She'd started work again and she usually worked from home. But on somedays she left to visit her office.

I quickly moved to the cupboard and pulled out the two suitcases I'd brought along when I got married. Packing my clothes was  easy. I had no intention of wearing all these designer label dresses with flimsy fabric that would tear at the lightest touch. I would need sturdy clothes that didn't require a lot of upkeep. I picked out three pairs of jeans and a dozen blouses. They were definitely a bit too dressy to go job hunting but I was running out of time.

I had to get out of here before my husband came home.

It was foolish, trying to run. But it was sort of the only thing I was actually capable of. I couldn't look at him or stand next to him anymore without feeling like I was caving in on myself. I didn't think a conversation with him about why I wanted to leave would be of any use. I couldn't get my thoughts together in front of him. I'd take the coward's way out.

I've read a lot about women's empowerment. I know women , most of them are incredibly strong on the inside. They fight for what they want. They speak up for what they believe in and they always stand up for themselves, no matter what happens.

I wanted to be that woman.

I wanted to be able to stand up to people. But I wasn't built for it. When people look at me they see this sort of fragile beauty that could crumble at the slightest mishandling. I think the first two or three times my father hit me, I really tried hard to fight back. But slowly I realized that when you try to stand up physically to a man who is bigger , rougher and tougher than you, you end up doing more damage to yourself than to him. I would be bruised , not just from the hits my father landed on me, but also from my own attempts to defend myself. Over time i learned to crouch away in a way that would keep me safe. Attacking back was no longer an option.

With Yoongi it was different.

He didn't touch me, not in violence.

But I'd always judged a man based on the potential amount of damage he could inflict on me. And Yoongi topped the charts with that one. He had something else that my father didn't. A sort of calculated cruelty instead of brute force. He could destroy everything I had , without laying a single finger on me. The very prospect was so terrifying, I couldn't breathe when he was around.

I slipped the last of my clothes in and spent an excruciating hour, dragging the suitcase to the service elevator on the floor below. From then, it was actually surprisingly easy to get out of the building. Before I knew it, I was on a bus, travelling to one of the lesser known localities on the outskirts of Seoul.

I'd had a phone interview earlier in the day and the lady had been kind. She was looking for someone to help her with her pottery classes, an assistant. Evn a passing knowledge of pottery would do. She didn't pay much but I could stay at the small room she had over the shop. in return for lodging and food  could maybe work overtime with her business.

The pay was beyond dismal. I'd be lucky to buy myself an extra set of clothes. But it was something. I could look for other jobs. I could find a way to ear more.

I would have options. For the first time in my life I could decided what I wanted to do. It felt so liberating I momentarily forgot the fear of running away from my husband.

Would he look for me?

It would be foolish to think he wouldn't. Of course he would. He was a famous guy. People knew of our marriage. He couldn't precisely pretend I never existed. But I just wanted to make sure I had a way to live when I did confront him. Staying in his home, eating his food and demanding a divorce , made me feel a bit awful It would be better when I had my own place, away from him. No doubt he'd come looking for me. When he did , I just wanted to be able to tell him that I was happier without him.

The pottery shop was smaller than I thought . The lodgings even more so. But to me it felt like heaven. I quickly pulled my clothes out and arranged them on the cupboard. That made me feel better. Now the place felt more of a home. My clothes were here. My things were here. It was my place now. I could decide who to let in.

I'd never had a place like that before.

The kind lady offered me a bow of soup and told me I could start work the next day. I nodded enthusiastically, gulping down the flavored broth with enthusiasm. It was actually a bit bland and I gave her a smile.

"Ommeonim, could I make food for you?" I said before I could lose my nerve. She looked surprised but nodded.

An hour later she looked at me with glowing eyes.

She would pay me extra if I made the meals for her.

As it turned out I ended up cooking not just for her but also for the kids who came to learn pottery from her. They were mostly small, ranging from five to ten years in age and they called me unnie or noona and I felt so blissed out happy, watching the way they fumbled with the clay and the kiln trying to form shapes. I made sure to stick with the ones who were nervous or scared of making a mistake. I knew how that felt and I made it a point to let them know that there were no mistakes in pottery. As long as you poured a bit of yourself into it, all art is beautiful.

It was another three days before Min Yoongi turned up at the shop.

It was late evening. The last of the students had gone home and i was bustling around the kitchen when I heard his voice outside.

"Do you have someone working for you here?" His voice was rough and furious and I dropped the pot of water without thinking.

The sound of footsteps and then suddenly he was framed on the doorway of the small kitchen looking like a thundercloud on legs. I stepped back automatically wincing when my hip caught the edge of the granite counter behind me. He stared at me in disbelief, taking in my soup-stained brown apron and the tangled mess that was my hair.

I hadn't worn make up in over a week and I knew I looked like a chimney sweep.

"You've got to be shitting me...." He stared at me , ludicrous anger written all over his face.

I calmly picked up the pot and placed it back, dragging a floor mat to drop it on the small puddle near my foot.

"What are you doing here?" I said, my voice shaking just a little bit.

He shook his head like he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"What the actual fuck do you think you're doing here? I thought you were fucking murdered you little fool!" He hissed, reaching out and grabbing my upper arm before yanking me out of the kitchen. Outside, Mrs Kim the owner looked scared out of her wits. Furious , i yanked my arm back and glared at him.

"What the hell do you want?" I snapped and he recoiled like I'd slapped him. Then his eyes narrowed and he took a menacing step forward.

"Look who's found her voice again...What the hell kind of explanation is this?" He shouted and waved a bit of paper in my face. I flinched when I recognized the handwriting as my own.

"Min Yoongi ssi....I'm sorry for being a bother. please don't look for me. " He read in a falsetto voice that made me cringe.

"It's not like you listened." I muttered under my breath and he actually went a shade paler.

"Do you think this is a fucking joke?" He said very softly " There are people out there who would happily peel the flesh off your bones if they think it would hurt me in some way. Why the fuck would you put me through this?" He said angrily, his voice shaking. I stared at him, biting my lips.

"I don't want anything to do with you. Leave me alone." i said nervously . He sighed and ran a hand over his face.

"Baby girl, do you honestly think I want to have anything to do with you? But this isn't about what we want, is it? This is about you being a spoilt, reckless little brat with the common sense of a stick. " He snapped. " If you get killed, I'll be the one left to clean up the damn mess. And guess what? I haven't got the time to put up with shit like that. So pack your fucking clothes, we're getting out of here." He said roughly .

I shook my head in protest.

"I don't want to go back there. I want a divorce." I said quickly. Why did my brain, not function when I was around this man? Why could i smell him even when he was six feet away from me?

Yoongi sighed and gave me a look of long suffering.

"Fine. I'll give you a divorce. Once it's finalized and out in the press, you can come back to this...place." He finished with a look of distaste.

I glared at him.

"If you think I'm foolish enough to believe...."

I stopped when one of the men with him stepped forward to say something in his ear. Yoongi's gaze widened in surprise and worry.

"Oh, fuck.....Shit...Quick get the cars ready.." He barked and then reached out and grabbed my wrist roughly yanking me close. I yelped in surprise and pushed him away with all my might, causing him to stumble.

"Let me go, you monster..." I screamed.

A gunshot rang out and I froze in his arms.

"fuck, Fuck, Fuck.... get down.. Get down, woman..." He grabbed the back of my head and pushed me down to a crouch behind the nearest table as something whsizzed right by my ear, hitting the clay pots behind and shattering them to smithereens. I experienced a sort of physical disconnect from my own body , my mind vaguely registering that people were shooting at us.

shooting?

"What's happening?" I screamed at him and he ran a hand over his face, placing one arm around me and ushing me behind hi before settling on his knees, pulling out his gun and removing the safety before reaching over the table to fire a couple of shots. i screamed as someone returned fire, the bullets grazing so close to us , it was a miracle we weren't hit.

"Daegu is an EXO stronghold. they must've found out I was here."

I stared at him in disbelief.

"You drove into your rival gang's stronghold alone?" I gasped in shock. He gave me a glare.

"Guess who's fault that is?" He snapped.

i spluttered in disbelief and he grabbed me around the waist pulling me close till i was flush against his chest. My faces inches from his, I could feel my heart pounding against his chest. Or was it his heart pounding against mine?

"Listen to me. Keep your head buried here and I'm going to get us to the car alright. " He said urgently and I nodded quickly, not really understanding. But then i yelped when he reached out and lifted me up with ease.

"Wrap your legs around my waist. Quick!!" He shouted. I stared in disbelief. He wanted to carry me like I was a toddler but his face looked so furious, i didn't argue, letting myself be carried and wrapping my legs around his strong hips.

"Ready?" He said suddenly.

Ready for what?? I thought,  internally screaming but the next second he was rushing out into the medley of sounds and gunshots and shouts and I buried my face into his shoulder as he's told me. The moment we reached the door, a car slid to a halt in front of us, tires screeching  and the door got flung open.

He all but tossed me into the backseat, climbing in behind me and squashing me under his weight. I lay there in mute horror while he fumbled with something in his hip. He pulled out a revolver and without any sort of warning he thrust it into my hands.

"Hold this and sit up..." He barked, the tone of his voice scaring me so much, I fumbled with the gun, accidently, pressing down on it.

And ended up shooting Min Yoongi in the process.

For a few seconds he just stared at me.

"You're such a head ache..." He mumbled faintly and I barely heard him, too busy staring at the blooming red on his shirt. I had no idea where I'd shot him exactly but there was so much blood!

"Oh, God..oh god.." I said in horror. What did I just do??!!! I shot my husband , I thought too stunned to think straight.  

"I should have shot you instead of your father." He said with a sigh. I bit my lips in genuine distress.

"I'm so sorry." I mumbled.

"Take off your shirt and press it against my shoulder.." He said faintly. I scrambled to obey and pulled my shirt off at once, balling it into a makeshift bandage and pressing it against his shoulder. The blood soaked through my shirt just seconds later.

"If I die, I'm coming back and taking you with me. " He snapped.

And then his head rolled back and he fainted.