#just a bit worse since the memory lingers even if it wasn't real. and then you feel like the world's most pathetic heap of trash

[rosyblooom]

blooming season🌷 (1) | ln4

"grief is just love with no place to go”

PAIRING: lando norris x fem nepo!reader WORD COUNT: 2.6k WARNING(S): mentions of death & blood, swearing SUMMARY: four years after she fled monaco, y/n is back on the anniversary of her father's death. however, an unexpected encounter with an f1 driver disrupts her plans. A/N: my first time doing this, so probably has errors. if you've got any thoughts or requests pls let me know xoxo hope u enjoy! :)

part 1 <- | part 2

The scent of salt still lingers in the air, but now it feels different, not as welcoming as it used to be. It's a painful reminder of days gone by, days filled with joy and warmth that now seem distant and unattainable. No matter how hard you try, you can't shake off the memories, replaying them in your mind like a scratched vinyl record that refuses to play properly.

Today marks four years since your father's passing, and four years since you left Monaco. You were just eighteen then, fresh out of high school, when the news of your father's tragic car accident hit you like a ton of bricks. In a desperate attempt to escape the overwhelming sorrow, you packed your bags that very night and left before the weight of it all drowned you.

You couldn't bring yourself to attend your father's funeral, clinging to the hope that maybe, just maybe, it wasn't real. But deep down, you knew the truth—your father was gone, and nothing could change that. Even as you threw yourself into your studies, pursuing a nursing degree, the pain never truly went away.

And now, here you are, sitting alone on this deserted stretch of beach, watching the waves crash against the shore in a steady rhythm.

This spot holds a special place in your heart, known only to a handful of locals—a fact you couldn't be more grateful for. Here, away from the watchful eyes of tourist crowds, you find solace as you simply listen to the earth rotate.

You exhale slowly, leaning forward to brush the sand from your palms before reaching into your bag for the bottle of red wine nestled inside. It takes a bit of effort to uncork it completely, but the satisfying pop is worth the wait. With careful precision, you fill a wine glass to the brim with the rich, maroon liquid—something to take the edge off.

"Welcome back, Y/N," you whisper to yourself, lifting the glass in a silent salute. "Thank you, thank you. I can't imagine anything worse."

A bitter chuckle escapes your lips, a stark contrast to your usual composed demeanour. It's been 1,460 days, yet it feels like your world only just came crashing yesterday.

Needing calm now, you take a sip of the wine, savouring its sweetness, when the sound of approaching footsteps catches your attention, pulling you back to the present moment.

"Seriously?" you think to yourself, feeling your heart plummet like a stone sinking into deep waters. You took every precaution to keep your return under wraps—after all, you paid good money for that privilege.

Arriving just last night, you made it a point to rise at the crack of dawn, a time before the world awoke; a time when it's just you and no one else. You couldn't bear the idea of facing the prying eyes that would surely accompany the day ahead. For once, you didn't want to be known as the daughter of one of Monaco's wealthiest families; you simply wanted to be yourself, stripped of titles and expectations—a daughter mourning her father.

Feeling like a trapped animal, you become acutely aware of every sound and movement, your gaze locked on the figure approaching.

A man.

His brown curls bounce with each step until he comes to an abrupt stop just a few feet away from you.

With a small wave and a nod, he greets you with a simple "Hey."

It takes a moment for you to register that the greeting is directed at you, causing you to tear your gaze away without a response. Your eyes flit between the gentle ripples of the sea and the man settling down uncomfortably close, prompting an annoyed grunt to escape your lips.

“Fuck spatial awareness, huh…,” you mutter under your breath, though not quiet enough to evade his notice. He slips off his black headphones, eyebrows raised in curiosity. "Sorry, what?"

You clear your throat, then sit up straight and gesture expansively. "All this space, and you have to sit right next to me?”

He smiles.

Your gaze narrows.

"But I'm not right next to you," he retorts with a playful grin. "You're all the way over there." He points towards you and then at himself. "And I'm right here."

"Well, it's still too close," you snap.

"Sorry, did you buy this beach or something?" he counters, his grin widening. "Last time I checked, it's open to all members of—."

Growing increasingly frustrated, you interject, "No, I didn't buy anything. I just want some personal space. But clearly, that's lost on you."

With a scoff, you spring to your feet, snatching up your towel and cramming it into your bag, sand and all.

"Wait, you don't have to leave," he insists, his footsteps drawing closer. But you pay him no mind, tossing your phone into your bag and hastily gathering the rest of your belongings from the ground.

Once everything is crammed into your bag, you snatch up your half-empty glass of wine and stand upright, only to feel a foreign warmth enveloping your hand and glass. The man now stands directly in front of you, invading your personal space completely; you have to tilt your head back slightly to meet his piercing green gaze.

"Look, I'm sorry if I did something wrong, but—" he begins, but you cut him off sharply.

"Way too close now," you snap, attempting to pull your hand away, but he refuses to release his grip.

"You do realise I'm trying to apologise, right?" he asks, confusion evident in his eyes.

"I don't care."

His grip remains firm. "There's plenty of space for both of us here."

"It doesn't matter anymore," you respond, your patience wearing thin.

The struggle continues, your voice growing louder with each tug. "Let go of the fucking glass!"

Suddenly, a sharp yell pierces the air, followed by the hollow thuds of broken glass hitting the ground. Shock washes over you as you barely register the sticky liquid trickling down your hand and onto your toes.

"Ah, shit," he exclaims, snapping you out of your daze. You quickly assess the situation, noticing the shattered remnants of the wine glass scattered on the ground, staining the sand crimson.

Panic sets in as you frantically check your hand and feet for any injuries, your eyes wide with fear. After several anxious moments, you breathe a sigh of relief.

I'm okay.

The tranquillity is abruptly shattered by deep groans echoing through the air, drawing your attention to the man's slumped figure with his back turned to you. His face remains hidden from view.

Though he's clearly in pain, you're tempted to slip on your shoes and make a hasty escape. Today is already burdened with its own weight; you're not sure you can handle any more. You even take a step back, ready to flee, but then something stops you.

A pang of guilt washes over you, weighing you down like heavy bags strapped to your legs. With a heavy sigh, you reluctantly admit to yourself, "I can't believe I'm about to do this."

"Okay, fine. How about you put on your big boy boots and let me take a look at that?" you say, crossing your arms expectantly.

There's no reaction from him, not even a response.

Rolling your eyes, you drop your bag onto the sand and cautiously circle around him until you're face-to-face with his unruly brown curls.

"Hello?" you tap his shoulder, frustration creeping into your voice. "Earth to the stranger who doesn't understand personal space?"

"Seriously?" he retorts, his tone sharp.

His eyes meet yours as he straightens up, his expression guarded, but you simply shrug, maintaining a neutral demeanour, and extend your hand.

"Let me see," you say calmly.

For a moment, he simply stares at you in bewilderment, but then he tentatively extends his hand towards yours.

"I see," you breathe, examining the large cut in his palm with care, mindful not to dirty it with your fingers. Despite the blood seeping from the wound, you release a relieved sigh after a thorough inspection—it's not as deep as it initially appeared.

"Alright," you announce, dropping his hand and clapping your hands together. "Go home, make sure nothing touches that hand, clean the cut, and bandage it. Keep it dry for a couple of days, and then reassess."

Without waiting for a response, you turn towards your bag, sling it over your shoulder, and shoot him one final glance.

"This has been... unpleasant," you remark dryly. "I really hope our paths don't cross again. Goodbye."

"Wait!"

You shake your head and ignore him, determined to continue onward.

"Wait!" he calls out again, desperation evident in his tone. "I don't have any bandages!"

You stop walking, considering his words, but still don't turn around.

"And... I don't have any sanitising stuff either," he adds, his voice trailing off slightly.

Slowly, you turn around and wave your hands dismissively in the air, shouting back, "That's what supermarkets are for! I guess it's time for a shopping trip!"

Just as you're about to spin on your heel and leave again, his voice cuts through the distance.

"Look, you seem like you know what you're doing. Can't you just help me out here?"

Shielding your eyes from the harsh glare of the sun, you squint at him as he begins jogging toward you. "That advice," you shout back, "was me helping you out. Trust me, I wanted to leave way earlier."

For a moment, neither of you speaks as you watch him closing the distance between you. When he finally comes to a halt in front of you, you instinctively take two steps back—you need your personal space.

"So?" he says between pants, waiting for your response.

You furrow your brows, deep in thought. "Well, I don't have anything on me, sorry to disappoint. But like I said, there are shops around here."

You resume your walk, but to your dismay, the guy falls into step with you almost immediately.

"So, what? You have nothing at home?" he presses, his gaze burning into the side of your face.

Refusing to meet his eyes, you increase your speed.

"Right, because I'm just going to invite a stranger," you emphasise, "who I didn't want to be around in the first place, into my home."

His hand suddenly grips your arm, causing you to instinctively rip out of his grasp, both of you coming to an abrupt halt.

"What?" you bark, irritation seeping into your tone.

"You can google me," he offers, his voice calmer now. "Lando Norris, Formula One driver. Search my name up. You'll see pictures—every single detail about me, you'll probably find on the internet. Now I'm not a stranger anymore, right?" he suggests, his gaze pleading.

You remain silent, shifting your focus toward the calm waters as you breathe in and out. It feels as though the world has paused, waiting for you to come to a decision, to reach a conclusion.

Today, the anniversary of your father's death, is a day you've been dreading yet anticipating for so long. Its disruption unsettles you, but deep down, you know you can't simply ignore it. As much as you wish to skip over this chapter of your life, tear out its pages, and never look back, you can't. It's not healthy.

Still, that doesn't mean you can't delay it for a little while longer.

"Fine," you sigh, relenting to the situation, and begin rummaging through your bag until you locate your phone.

Quickly, you extract it and raise it to Lando's face, snapping a photo of him with the flash on.

"What the hell?" he exclaims, blinking rapidly.

"For my protection," you state matter-of-factly. "Just because you're famous doesn't mean you can't be a bad person."

Once his gaze meets yours again, he runs a hand through his hair and offers a sheepish smile. "Fair enough."

You nod, acknowledging his words, and continue your walk toward the car park.

"I'm not a bad person, though," he adds quickly, catching up to you.

"Colour me convinced," you reply dryly.

*********

As you approach the car park, annoyance bubbles within you at the sight of it: filled with cars and swarmed by dozens of people.

"You said you're a Formula One driver, right?" you ask, tilting your head up at Lando.

"Yeah, why?" he responds.

Instead of answering, you grab the hood of his jacket and pull it over his head.

"Why did you do that—" Lando begins, but you cut him off.

"The last thing I need is a mob of your fans, okay?" you interject firmly. "The quicker we get this done, the sooner we can go our separate ways."

Lando chuckles as he adjusts the hood. "I'm really that bad, huh?"

"Worse," you deadpan.

"...Right."

With your raven car in sight, you quicken your pace, relief flooding through you. The last thing you want is for people to realise you're back, especially not today.

However, as if your luck has run out, a woman steps in front of you, blocking your path. You immediately turn your focus to Lando, motioning for him to take a picture with his fan and hurry up.

But instead of the attention falling on him, a weight suddenly falls onto your shoulder, catching you off guard. You clear your throat, preparing to speak, but the woman beats you to it.

"Oh my goodness, Y/N. It's you, isn't it?" the woman exclaims, her voice filled with recognition and sympathy.

You can't reply; your mouth feels dry, your tongue heavy with unspoken words.

No, not today. Please, not today.

"I'm so sorry for your loss, Y/N," she continues, her expression radiating pity. It's uncomfortable—the way she looks at you, the way she touches your shoulder so gently. It feels like you're being burned alive, yet you're immobilised, just as you were four years ago when you first heard the news.

"Your father was such an amazing man. And you, I mean, you've been missed. My daughter loves you—"

Suddenly, you're being pulled forward, jolting you out of your trance. You struggle to keep your balance as you try to comprehend what's happening—the woman is gone, and Lando's hand is firmly clasped around yours, pulling you closer to him.

Your personal space has been completely invaded, yet you don't feel the usual urge to pull away. Even if you did, you're not quite sure Lando would let you.

"Your car's the black one, right?" you hear him ask, but the words don't immediately register.

"Huh?" you mumble, still reeling from the encounter.

"That black car over there," Lando points and leans in close, his gaze locked with yours, "that's yours, right?"

You nod, still not quite ready to speak.

Lando releases your hand and holds out his palm to you. "Okay, car keys, please?"

"What? No," you shake your head, rejecting the idea. "There's no need for that."

"Come on, I'm a Formula One driver, remember? I won't crash it."

"It would be irresponsible of me to let you drive in this state," he adds, his voice firm.

"And what about your hand?" you nod toward the injury.

"Like I said," Lando smiles slyly, cocking his head to the side, "I drive race cars; I think I can handle driving with one hand."

Rolling your eyes, you relent, "Okay, fine."

With a sigh, you fish out the car keys from your bag and hand them over to him.

4:05 ───────────ㅇ─ 4:28

[shachiruka]

.

[jedijesi]

Luminary Love

Prince!Din Djarin x F!Princess!Reader

🤍Masterlist🤍

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Smut (F receiving, PiV, Breeding kink)

Summary: Tonight is your (unwanted) wedding to the soon-to-be King of Mandalore, but is there more to him than meets the eye?

Word Count: 3,100+

A/N: I’ve had this idea for several days now and I just needed to write it. Don’t worry tho bc the next ch. of biblichor will b out soon. Enjoy some Din content!🤍

All night long, you received congratulations and cheers. Thousands, billions of people would kill to be in your position, but you dreaded this more than anything. You never wanted to marry the soon-to-be king of Mandalore, but the Royal administration never gave you an option. Throughout the fantastical wedding, you repeatedly reminded yourself it was for your people - they are the ones who will prosper from this. Thankfully, his creed forbade him from removing his helmet in front of others, therefore you weren’t allowed to kiss him. The only time you had to touch him during the ceremony was when you held hands. Even then, his mastiff-leather gloves create a barrier from any real contact.

After the ceremony, you avoided your new husband as best you could. When it was time to put on a show, you had forced yourself to put on the royal smile you had been practicing. When eating, you sat as far away as possible from him but not far enough to worry the royal administrations that watched you two tentatively. The times you were called to waltz, you performed what you had been learning for months but never made eye contact with him. After a few dances, the royals watching had joined in and forgotten about you, giving you the perfect chance to escape.

You spent your time talking with other royalty, expressing your worries and concerns to Princess Mary of Ryloth. Unlike you, she was happily married, but it was her 3rd time. The first two suitors weren’t ‘good enough’ for her, so she became the royal’s biggest scandal and ignored her administration to marry for love. Luckily her experience with terrible lovers led to wonderful tips and tricks that she gladly gave you for your wedding night. You knew she was telling you these things to help, but in reality, it only made you feel worse about your new life.

“Djarin, my oldest friend, how are you enjoying your wedding?” General Paz said with a heavy pat to Din’s pauldron.

“It’s… grand.” Din sounded unconvinced by his own words.

“Grand? Is that all you have to say?”

“Well, everything appears wonderful, but my wife won’t speak nor look at me.”

“Have you attempted to talk to her?”

“Of course!” Din and Paz turn to watch you talk to Princess Mary. “She never responds, though.”

The uncomfortable feeling of Din’s stare props you to turn around. The blue and silver beskar statues jump when you catch them and quickly turn back to avoid any further embarrassment.

“I haven’t seen her in years, but she has grown to be quite beautiful, you must admit.” Paz shrugs.

“I know, it’s one of the many reasons I married her. I just… wish she’d give me a chance.”

“Well, she better. I overheard that the administration is already seething that you two haven’t gone back to your honeymoon suite.”

Din rolls his eyes under his helmet. “I don’t care about them. They shouldn’t have a say in my marriage.”

“Good luck arguing that. You know they expect an heir to be conceived tonight.”

“I already have Grogu. Is he not enough?”

“Nothing is enough for them, my friend.” Paz pats Din’s back reassuringly. “Just be kind to the poor girl. I’m sure she isn’t pleased with all of this.” He gestures to the grand chandeliers and dramatic towers of cake and food.

Din sighs as he fiddles with the edge of his cape. “Alright. I should probably go fetch her before the Administration creates any more drama.”

“Good luck, your majesty.” Paz bows as Din walks your way.

Din let’s go of his cape before wiping his armor of any lingering bits of dust and dirt, wanting to be as presentable as possible for you. When Din arrives behind you, he clears his throat and bows.

“My Princess, it is time for us to leave for the Honeymoon Suite.”

Without a word, you give him a nod and take his arm. The guests cheer and whisper as you and your husband make your way out of the ballroom. You could hear Royal Administers whisper their concerns regarding your fertility or your performance in bed. It was dehumanizing, to say the least. You fought for justice and equality on Naboo, but this was not the way on Mandalore. Your new role would be diminished to a supporting queen who would raise the future heirs. Meanwhile, the other women of Mandalore were busy serving valiantly in wars. This was the way. Mandalore was born out of extremists, and you had to embrace the consequences.

Din hated the whispers. If he were king, he would have lashed out long ago, but the coronation isn’t for another few days. You didn’t deserve to be treated as an object. Din saw you to be the goddess that would help lead his people into prosperity and the gorgeous woman who may one day graciously birth his children. Such slander against someone so perfect made Din rage under his helmet. A few more days. Din would remind himself.

.

The Suite reflected Mandalore: grand and majestic. Silver swirls of beskar outlined the stained glass windows that watched over Mandalore. The bed was larger than any other you had seen before. It looked cozy; a complete contrast to the large and uncomfortable dress you’ve been wearing all day. You walked over to touch the silk-like blankets and sighed at its softness.

Din watched you with interest - mesmerized by the way the roaring fireplace creates a golden glow on your features. “Wife?”

“Hmm?”

“Why don’t you look at me?” The flicker of sadness in his voice took you by surprise. You weren’t sure if Mandalorians could feel emotions underneath the layers of cold beskar. “Do I… scare you?”

You turn to look at him, your nerves shining through by the twiddling of your thumbs. “I… I don't know.”

“What is wrong, my dear princess? I want to fix this. I don't want to start our marriage off on the wrong foot.” You sit down on the luxurious bed, your eyes now watching as you fiddle with your dress. Din walks towards you, taking a knee to be at eye level with you. “I understand this isn't what you wanted. I heard whispers that it took the maids an hour to get you off your ship. That you fought off any guard that laid a hand on you.” Din chuckled at the image he had created in his head. “But then the fighting stopped… why?” You couldn't find it within yourself to respond. “Won’t you please entertain my curiosity?”

You sighed and looked up into the dark visor. “I realized I was being selfish. I had forgotten that marriage among the royals was for the people… not for love.”

“You do not love me?”

“We barely know each other, your majesty.”

“What are you speaking of? We used to be best friends.”

You scoffed at Din. “We were children, your majesty. You were just a servant boy in the palace back then, but times have changed, haven't they, your majesty.”

“Please refrain from calling me ‘your majesty.’ I thought we were beyond that.” Din groaned, annoyed by the ridiculous title.

“Din, you're to become the Mandalore - the king - in a few days' time. I understand the rules - I understand why you had to marry me.”

“What? So that I could officially hold the title as king? I don't care about a stupid title - the administration does.”

“Then why marry me? There are millions of royals lined up to marry the Mandalore, but why choose me, Din? Why?” You started getting hysterical at it all. Your life's work had come to a halt just so that Din could be crowned king. It was disgusting and unfair.

“As an orphan-servant boy, the days your family visited were the best days of my life. Your parents always treated me like their own - the complete opposite of how the Kryze family did. I meant it when I said you were my best friend. You were the only person who could beat Paz and me in a fight. The only person who would sneak out of the palace to play in the garden at night with me. When your parents… passed and you stopped visiting me… It crushed me. I never stopped thinking about you, my princess.”

You could hear the build-up of tears in Din’s throat, but he wasn't the only one. You too had tears in your eyes, remembering the once pure and innocent life you had. You bring your hand up to din's helmet, holding where his cheek would be.

“Do you remember that last night?”

“Of course I do. It was a cold night in the rose garden. I gave you my coat since you had insisted you didn't need your shall.” Din smiled and chuckled at the memory.

“I... I never saw your lips, but I had never felt such pure joy than the moment they molded against mine.”

Din leans his head forward to rest your foreheads together. Underneath, he continued to beam. It had been so long since he had felt such love - such love that could only be created by you.

“My princess, I never stopped loving you. Even as we grew up and apart, I would watch the holovids that spoke about you, and all the wonderful things you were doing for your people. It was the only thing that kept me going through those torturous years apart from you. I love you.”

Din’s arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into a tight hug. You reciprocated by wrapping your arms around his shoulders and burying your head in the crook of his neck. “I love you too, Din.”

“My wife?”

“Yes, my husband?”

“Will you take this ridiculous helmet off of me so that I may kiss you and make love to you?”

Your glowing smile melts Din’s heart. Your hand reaches up to slowly slide off the silver beskar helmet that covered those features you dreamt of. An audible gasp escapes past your lips when Din’s lips appear. It took everything in you to not pounce on him and cover him in kisses, but you maintain your composure. His nose was strong and beautiful, and his cheeks… oh, how you wanted to leave lipstick stains on them. Then were his perfect eyes. Those chocolate eyes that expressed an amount of love you'd never completely fathom in your life.

“You're stunning, Din.” Din’s heart flutters at your words. The only compliment he's ever received was about his combat skills and valor. He's never been complimented on his looks before.

“I’d never compare to my gorgeous wife.”

Din takes your face into his palms and slowly pulls you in for a kiss. The moment your lips touch, you feel fireworks exploding all around you. The glowing lights flash behind your eyelids as you mold your lips together. The tickle of his mustache causes you to giggle into the kiss, which Din finds to be enchanting. One of Din's hands leaves your face to grip your torso, massaging and kneading your skin.

“I love you.” He murmurs into the kiss. “I love you more than the moons and stars.”

As the kisses become more intense, so does your lust for one another. Din’s hands undo the strings of your wedding dress as you shed his armor off - lips never leaving each other. Once you two were completely naked, Din had you crawl to the center of the bed.

“Now, lay back, my love. I want to show you how much I love and miss you.” You follow his instructions and rest your head on the large cloud-like pillows.

Din crawls between your legs, taking one into his hand. Starting from your ankle, he works his way down, leaving a trail of sloppy yet delicate kisses. He takes his time at your inner thigh, sucking and licking at your skin to make you emit whimpers.

“D-Din, please don't tease me.”

“Hush, now. Let me take my time loving you.” And he does. He spends his time worshiping your body - kissing and sucking the skin around your lips while his hand massages your breasts. Suddenly, Din dives into your sopping wet cunt, immediately sucking and licking your swollen clit. You let out a loud gasp followed by a moan, making Din’s cock bounce up in excitement.

Your noises sound like music - the most angelic music he's ever heard in his life. Each moan and whimper you let out only addicted him more. Din wraps his hands around your waist and sits back, lifting your hips from the bed and to his mouth. You grip the blankets with a scream as Din explores further into your pussy. The animalistic grunts and growls he lets out only make you wetter.

“Come on, Princess. Cum. Cum all over my face. I need it.” And just like that, you let out a scream as you convulse around his tongue. Din slowly lowers you back onto the bed as he licks up your dripping cum. “You're sweeter than a meiloorun, darling. I've never tasted anything so divine. I’d love to stay between your legs forever and drink your cum until the day I die, but I wanna put a baby in you too badly to do so.” You let out a whimper at his filthy words. “Can I, darling? Will you let me fuck a baby into you?”

“Wait, we're not done?” You ask through pants.

“Not done? We’ll be done when the sun wakes up. Even then, I'm not sure if we'll ever be done. Why?”

“The other princesses said it would only be a minute of discomfort, and it’ll be over.

Din tsks and shakes his head, pressing a few kisses to your clit. “Oh, my darling. I'm not like those other royals. I care about my wife’s pleasure, and you…” Din presses more kisses to your overstimulated heat. “Are nowhere near done with your, please. So, I'll ask you again. Are you ready for me to fuck a baby into you with my thick, hard cock?”

“Stars, yes! Please, Din!” You hated how completely and utterly desperate you sounded, but you were completely and utterly desperate for Din to fuck you.

Din crawls up to meet your half-lidded eyes, drooping with lust. He places soft kisses on your cheeks before pressing one to your lips. “Are you ready for me, Princess?”

“Yes, my husband.”

Din grabs his cock, lining it up with your entrance. With a loud moan, he enters your sopping wet pussy.

“Oh, you're so wet! Ungh… Stars, you're so tight too!” Din’s thrusts speed up to a steady pace, your moans echoing through the room along with the lewd, wet sounds of your bodies pounding together. “From this day forward, y-your. Pussy. Belongs. To. Me.” Din emphasizes his words with his cock hitting against your g-spot.

“O-Only i-if your cock b-belongs - Oh yes, Din - To me.”

Din chuckles through his labored breaths. “Of course, my love. My cock is forever yours to do what you please with. I don't care what time- ugnh- or what p-place. It's yours.” You lean up to capture din’s parted lips, swallowing his beautiful moans. The knot in your stomach starts to tighten. Desperate for your release, you buck your hips back into Din. “Yes, take my cock. It's yours. All yours.” Din takes your legs, pushing them to your chest. Both of you let out a series of loud moans at the deeper feeling.

“Oh, Din! I'm going to cum if you keep doing that!”

“Ugh, I can see the galaxy when I'm inside you! Can you feel that, my love?”

“Yes, I-I can feel your throbbing cock!” You throw your head back at the euphoric feeling. Your exposed neck allows Din to swoop down and suck marks onto it.

“Th-That's me, claiming what's mine. You're all mine, my princess.” Din’s thrusts speed up, desperate and ready for you to cum. Each thrust was accompanied by a loud grunt that made you clench even tighter. “I'm gonna cum. I'm going to give you a baby - our baby. Are you ready?”

“Yes, Din! I love y-you!” You scream out a slew of ‘i love yous’ and clench tightly around Din’s swollen cock. Your orgasm and words of love cause Din to cum, sending spurts of his cum into your womb, where your future child would soon grow.

Din collapses on you which you gladly accept. You wrap your arms around his neck and place kisses on the crown of his head. Both of you stay like that for a while, basking in pure love. Once your breaths are back to normal, Din slowly pulls out of you to lay on the bed beside you. He pulls you closer to him so that no space lingered and adjusted the blankets to create a cocoon of comfort around you two.

You smile as you listen to his heartbeat against his chest. Din’s index finger presses to the underside of your chin, adjusting your eyes to look into his.

“Are you okay, my love?”

You nod lazily, completely worn out. “You know, having a husband isn't so bad after all.” Din lets out a hearty laugh before leaning down to kiss you.

“Yeah, having a wife isn't so bad either.” Din smirks at you, causing you to shy away in embarrassment and return your attention to his chest. Your fingers trace shapes and words onto his chest until you stop. A mark on Din’s torso prompts you to inspect it. “What are your curious fingers doing, my love?”

“What is this?” You ask as your finger traces the mark.

“It’s just a scar, dearest.”

“A scar?” You look back at Din with worry in your eyes.

“Oh, don't worry, my love. I've collected so many over the years, I've become immune to them. That one was either from when I fought Bo-Katan or when I fought a mudhorn to save my son.”

“Goodness.... I've missed so much of your life.” Your face droops with sadness, but Din is quick to relieve your worries.

“Now, it's nothing to be upset over. Yes, we've missed a lot, but that means we can spend the rest of our lives catching up and making new memories. Plus, you can meet my son tomorrow.”

You smile and press a chaste kiss to Din’s lips. “I’d love that.” You pressed another kiss to his lips, but this one wasn't so innocent.

“Did I not satisfy you, my love?” Din chuckles into the kiss. You climb on top of him and shake your head. “Oh, does my princess want more?”

You give Din a mischievous grin and shrug.

Din smirks before leaning in to kiss you. “Well, who am I to deny my wife of her wishes?”

A/N: Idk who from my Javier Peña taglist wants to be on this one, but those who are interested in being added to a Din Djarin taglist or a perminante taglist, please let me know.🤍 Can’t wait to hear what you all think!

[jamespotterthefirst]

For A Long Time Now (Ethan x MC)

Book: Open Heart, Book 3

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende)

Words: 2K

Warning: Implied adult situations

Premise: He can finally tell her the three words he meant to say for a long time.

Author’s Note: The non-premium Ethan love confession is supreme and nothing will convince me otherwise. This is named after it. 

I.

The bright beams of moonlight illuminated the small, charming bedroom when Ethan awoke. One glance at the digital clock on her bedside informed him it was almost two in the morning. With a sigh that sounded louder in the still darkness, he sank back into her pillows, his heart beating a content, steady beat at the prospect of having just a few more hours by her side. 

A few hours, though a miserable consolation, were welcomed if it meant having her in his arms, peaceful and beautiful. Ethan glanced down at her, unable to avoid feeling awestruck. Her steady breath ebbed and flowed gently, caressing his skin as she slept against his chest, her ear pressed against the heart that beat for her. A few hours were a small but welcomed triumph.

Soon, dawn would break across the sky, announcing the beginning of a new day and bringing them closer to their inevitable end. 

It was as though his misery was a force so strong, it pressed into her because at that moment, she stirred 

“Mmmm.” She let out a small hum of protest twisting and tangling her limbs further in the sheets. When she opened her eyes, she blinked slowly at first then rapidly, pushing away sleep.

“Hi,” she greeted, her fogged expression melting into a tired but breathtaking smile.

“Hey,” he returned with a small smirk. 

Lilac bit her bottom lip against a second smile, this one playful and coquettish. And just like that, they were drawn to one another again, plucking kisses with hot, languid strokes of their mouths. Their movements became slow, lazy, as though they had all the time in the world. 

His heart ached when he realized how untrue that was.

Lilac, lips bruised from his kiss, beamed at him when they broke apart. 

“Why are you awake this early? Don't tell me you actually get up at two in the morning to start your day.”

“Three thirty, actually.”

Lilac made a sound of faux disgust that made him laugh. “If you made me get up that early daily, I'd murder you.”

His stomach gave an involuntary swoop at the implication. She meant if they spent many nights together, not just one night before their return to attending and intern. If they woke up next to each other every morning, stealing kisses as they prepared for their day. If they had more than just mere hours left to be together. 

Lilac seemed to catch the meaning of her words because she blushed. She opened her mouth, mortified, perhaps to dissuade the tension in the quiet bedroom with characteristic rambling. Ethan summoned a crooked smirk before she could get the words out. 

“Not even if I woke you up to do this?” 

In one graceful stroke of movement he had her on top of him, straddling his waist. His lips trailed slow, delicate kisses along her throat, inspiring the most delicious of moans. By the time he reached her jaw, she was breathless. 

“Ethan,” she whimpered, begging him for more. 

He was happy to oblige, fulfilling every one of her panting pleas until, with mingled cries and moans, they collapsed against the heap of pillows. 

“You can absolutely wake me up like that in a few hours.” She snuggled against his chest as she said this, this time listening aptly to his frenzied pulse. 

Ethan chuckled, pulling her close. 

They remained silent for a moment, contently listening to the distant lull of the city. As his breath slowly returned to normal, his eyes scanned the space of her bedroom, taking in every detail he could commit to memory. 

There were many pictures of whom Ethan assumed were her family—lively, kind-faced people, some who shared her same nose, others her smile, few her eyes. Then, in the many frames cluttering the desk, were the familiar faces of her friends, laughing and smiling in just as familiar places: Donahue's, the coast, even Edenbrook. For a wistful moment, he allowed himself to imagine a photo of the two of them framed and placed at her bedside. Lilac would be kissing his cheek and Ethan would fail to fight back a smile, no doubt looking the happiest he'd ever look in his life. 

For a moment he imagined they were just Ethan and Lilac, not Dr. Ramsey and Dr. Allende. 

A swirl of dark clouds slowly floated away, leaving the moon unobstructed. 

In the full light of the moon, he realized they could be both. Ethan wasn't her direct supervisor. If he pulled some strings and asked another attending to be her supervisor, perhaps they could… 

Lilac shifted slightly and hummed meekly, tilting her face up to him. “What are you thinking about?” 

Her voice was thick with exhaustion, both from her trial earlier and from the celebration after. 

Her lids appeared heavy with sleep, already halfway closed. Ethan almost chuckled at the sight, brushing a lock of hair away from her face. 

“You.”

Lilac smiled despite the veil of sleep starting to overwhelm her, savoring the single word. With another small sigh, she snuggled against his chest, her hand sliding up to rest by his collarbone. 

God, he loved it when she did that.

Ethan paused. 

Love. 

A foolish concept he once scoffed at or tried to explain away with scientific facts. Yet, he loved many things about her, he knew that as extensively as he knew medicine.

Ethan swallowed, fingers absently playing with her silky hair.

He loved her.

There was no point in denying what he had known for weeks, what he had felt since perhaps the moment she held his hand on the loveseat of the NICU. As he held her then, Ethan doubted that was an accurate estimate of when his feelings started. He was already in the middle by the time he was forced to accept the undeniable fact that he was in love with Lilac Allende. 

I love you. 

Thinking the words felt like an echo. Merely replaying them in his mind was no longer enough. Simply thinking them felt like a travesty, a complete lack of respect for the beautiful, brilliant woman in his arms. He had to say them, professionalism and propriety be damned. 

He could figure the rest out later. 

She had to know. 

“Lilac?” 

“Hmm?” 

The sound was soft, distant. When he glanced down, she was asleep, breathing peacefully against his chest. With a sad but resigned smile, he pulled her close and kissed her forehead instead. 

-  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -

II.

June and Baz filed out without a backward glance. Lilac, however, lingered behind as was her custom. Of that much, Ethan was certain before he even turned around to face her. His eyes locked with a pair of curious green ones and his stomach dove, an involuntary reaction to her.

“Can I help you with something, Dr. Allende?” 

She arched an eyebrow at him. “So formal,” she commented as she stepped into his embrace. “That's not what you called me last night.”

The false innocence she injected into that little whisper drove him insane. His fingers clenched her hips, wishing for nothing more than to fold her over his desk. Instead, he smirked down at her. 

“I don't believe I called you anything last night.”

“Mmm, you didn't. You were too distracted making out with me. I doubt you could string two words together.”

Lilac kissed him again, this time taking great care to push her body against his. Ethan groaned into her mouth, convinced this type of torture was worse than any other. They had only shared hungry kisses on several occasions, but Ethan never allowed it to proceed any further, even if his body protested that decision often. 

He didn't think he could bear the pain of separation when she inevitably moved on next year. 

“Maybe I’ll let you call me that in bed,” she murmured.

Ethan groaned again. 

Luckily for him, her pager interrupted their moment and Ethan was spared from making a fool of himself by trying to stammer out a reply. Lilac glanced down and sighed wistfully.

“I have to go,” she lamented, making little effort to move away. “They’re going to have the results for the Senator’s lead testing soon.” 

Ethan barely heard her, too busy memorizing the curve of her lips, the cluster of freckles on her nose, the exact shade of forest green with flickers of gold from her eyes. 

“Are we still doing dinner at your place tonight?” she asked, completely unaware of his lovestruck admiration. “You owe me that Gregorian stuffed chicken from last time.”

Overwhelmed, Ethan merely nodded.

With one last smile, she craned her neck to kiss him goodbye, her hand lingering on his jaw when they broke apart. 

Ethan watched her approach the door, a sense of urgency gripping him. After everything they had been through that year, his heart beat just as relentlessly for her. That much was clear from their recent slip in conviction. If Ethan was being honest, his heart had never faltered once, not even when he tried to put distance between them by escaping to Brazil. 

Every kiss since the one they shared outside his apartment was proof of one irrevocable truth. 

He never stopped loving her.

He doubted he ever would. 

“Lilac?”

“Hmm?” 

She halted right as she reached the door, looking over her shoulder curiously. 

I love you. 

Ethan opened his mouth, throat straining against a sudden knot. Before the words formed, that constant, miserable thought pushed its way to the forefront of his mind.

She might leave at the end of her residency. She deserves the entire world at her feet and you could never tie her down. 

“Ethan?”

“See you tonight.”

-  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -

III.

The real celebration occurred at Lahela's apartment later that evening. At least, that's what the surgeon deemed in a loud and almost incomprehensible cheer when they arrived. When his eyes landed on Ethan by Lilac’s side, however, a small moment of surprise pierced the silence, before he cheered louder than ever, proclaiming, “The Chief is here. Now, it's a real party!” 

Ethan had to admit that this cohort of young doctors knew how to celebrate in style. It didn’t take long before they broke into the impressive selection of drinks at the kitchen counter. The only regrettable aspect of the whole affair was the music. 

“Don Julio 1942, bitches,” Lahela proclaimed, brandishing two sleek bottles of tequila. He seemed to remember Ethan was in the room for he grimaced briefly. “Sorry, Dr. R!”

“The only thing you have to apologize for, Lahela, is taking so long to serve us our shots,” Ethan returned without missing a beat. 

“Amen to that,” Lilac responded enthusiastically from his side. 

After many rounds of high quality shots, their group grew in numbers as other hospital staff arrived and crammed the small apartment. Though no one excluded Ethan from their small cliques—quite the opposite, everyone was too eager to talk to the new Chief—he was happier observing from the sidelines. 

No, he was happier observing her, laughing and celebrating with her friends, from afar. It was like being a spectator to the most beautiful and moving art piece he had ever seen. She deserved all the revelry and acclaim pouring over her that night. This was an exciting chapter in her life that she had fought hard to earn. Ethan did not believe the sun itself could contain the pride blooming in his chest. 

After a couple hours, the late evening found Ethan at the terrace of Lahela’s apartment, a blanket of the deepest purple overhead. 

“Too important to hang out with us plebeians now that you’re Chief of Medicine?”

It was Lilac, standing at the sliding door, cheeks flushed and smile radiant in the moonlight. 

“That has literally never been true about any administrator,” he returned, though smiling just as brightly. He couldn’t contain the elation now that the floodgates had opened. 

Their bodies found each other, as they always would, joining in an embrace. Ethan kissed her forehead, the movement something close to second nature. “I’d argue your new job is more worthy of such praise,” he murmured. With a small nod toward the party, he added, “And theirs.”

Lilac pulled her chin back to survey him with pride. “Spoken like a true leader.”

A rumble of collective groans and cheers erupted from inside the apartment as a new song blurred through the speakers. 

“Bryce is on an eighties-only lockdown,” she explained with a laugh. “He does that when he’s had too much to drink.”

Ethan scrunched up his nose. “Then we got out just in time.” 

Lilac laughed, the sound a comfort to Ethan. They stood there in each other’s embrace, overlooking the twinkling lights of the city, reminiscent of another time long ago on a different balcony. Even then, his heart beat fiercely, desperately for her. Back then, he fought so courageously (and foolishly) against the three words that seemed the only truth in the universe. 

He didn’t have to deny himself of happiness anymore.

At long last, he didn’t have to fight them anymore.

“Lilac?”

“Hmm?”

She glanced up at him.

“I love you.”

 Her smile rivaled the stars above their heads.

“I love you, Ethan,” she replied without hesitation. 

He didn’t dare believe he could ever be happier. Then she kissed him, pouring her feelings into every movement of her lips, and he realized his happiness was boundless by her side. When they pulled apart, breathless and grinning like teenagers, Ethan let out a low chuckle.

“It’s an outrage to tell you that with Starship playing in the background.”

Lilac laughed, her eyes sparkling with unshed, happy tears. “Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now is a fitting song if you think about it.”

Ethan made an exaggerated face of disgust that he was sure would make her laugh. Pure satisfaction coursed through him when it did.

 “Luckily for you, you can tell anytime you want now,” she told him.  

He kissed her again, spurred on by uncontained elation. 

“You can rest assured I will.”

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

Author’s Note: I am not okay after that confession. I had to write something. Part I takes place right after her trial in book 1; Part II is right before her attack in book 2; Part III after that confession kljdlkfk

A few notes:

I still plan to write for Lilac and Ethan as time and creativity allows. If anyone still wishes to read them, then they’ll be here for you <3. If anyone still wants OPH content, you can count on me for that. I don’t plan on letting go of this story for a while. 

I’m going on a trip to the East Coast next week, including Boston (eeeek). I will leave a queue of random stuff but also two fics. One will be Chapter 1 of my OHTY Rewrite. The second will be a short ficlet I wrote a while ago

I am currently working on the next chapter of both Pictagram series. Hopefully I can post those when I come back!

Whether you leave the fandom or stick around (or something in between), I want to sincerely thank everyone who has supported this crazy journey of mine for the past year. Writing has always been my passion, but I stopped doing it for years before Open Heart. It was this book, these characters, and YOU who motivated me to write my little heart out. You guys gave me my happiness back and for that I am extremely grateful.  

I love you guys! 

*Tagging in a reblog*

[mc-critical]

I don't know if it was asked before, but what do you think about Valide and Beyhan Sultan? I know she is not her real daughter in history, but in the show she still called her daughter and in episode 102 Hatice said they have the same mother and father. Yet...I think Valide was a little more careless to her if you compare her love for Hatice. Show didn't give us many details about Beyhan and her past, but for a mother who got sick just after hearing her daughter got betrayed (Hatice-Ibrahim), her reaction and care for Beyhan after Beyhan's husband death seemed...low and weak to me. Maybe it's because she is older, or wasn't with her for years like Hatice, what do you think? :)

I never got such an ask before, don't worry. :)

Valide wasn't shown to be that close to her daughters other than Hatice, but this could be more because of their place of introduction - Şah and Fatma got introduced in the third and fourth seasons respectively and that was when Valide was dead, hence leaving us with no chance to flesh her relationship with them out. Still it's weird that they got no more than a passing mention by Valide and that was in her monologue in E58. In the case of Beyhan, I feel it has more to do with Beyhan's prominence in the story - she was (unfortunately) barely around and when she was around, she was usually around for emotional support to other characters, which also didn't truly allow a detailed development. Not to mention that Beyhan was usually supporting Hatice, her most fleshed out relationship which consisted of separate scenes between them and limited even further her interactions with her mother. The sisters so often seemed to be a family that's independent of Valide, even though they consider her a part of it as well, maybe because they can share stuff with each other that Hafsa would reprimand them for or simply not understand. It's like the dynastic family learns to rely on each other first and foremost, something both Şah and Hatice advocated for and Beyhan seemed to be on board with. No matter how strong her will to cut her family out was after the execution of her husband was, she didn't cut Hatice or Şah out, even when she appeared to resent Hatice as much as Hafsa from trying to distract her while SS was executing the punishment of her husband to the point of claiming she would understand only when SS executes Ibrahim, too.

Despite of any and all shortcomings, Beyhan was the second closest daughter to Hafsa. It's true that they didn't get much chance to interact - just like Şah and Fatma, Beyhan was far from the harem and had a very solid life for so long. They were miles apart and she could visit only so much, but still they were always happy to see each other. Beyhan also holds family in a high regard and is shown to be a very stable and mature character for the little screentime she had. It's probable Valide took Hatice in her wing because of the death and misery she experienced, in contrast to Beyhan's relatively calm life far away. There's clearly a strive for protection of the daughter that seemed to have experienced more sorrow and not have a marriage where she could take her own life into her hands. Sure, at first Valide thought that's the reason for her sorrow (and it was, along with her love for Ibrahim, rendered impossible by the customs in the harem in her eyes) and tried to marry her as soon as possible, but there's a hint of favoritism Beyhan is aware of and mentioned to Şah - that Hatice is Valide's favourite daughter, the one closest to her, the one who is inspired by her and the biggest witness of the dynastic virtues Valide had and wanted everyone else to follow. Hatice being alongside Valide the most out of every other daughter of hers would normally trigger another kind of sentiment, different than anything else she had with the others. Being together everyday and being a long distance away does make a difference. And since Valide knew Beyhan was fine (before E21), she had no reason or need to bond with her all the more or visit her that much all these years before E21 happened (Beyhan visited instead). The system encourages the dynastic sultanas to have a separate life outside of the castle and that's something that's considered normal both for Valide and Beyhan, so why would that be of worry? They still had a pretty decent connection for such circumstances. As seen in E14 and E21, Valide and Beyhan were pretty fine until that scene happened.

Beyhan confronting everyone after her husband's execution is a very important scene for her, because all of her familial ties seem to be breaking apart. She is shown to be a big emotional support to everyone else afterwards, but here, it's like no one fully understood what she went through. Similarly to the way they were trying to help Hatice get over Ibrahim in S03, here Beyhan appears to feel the same Hatice felt. They were trying the way they knew how, but they weren't helping. And what's worse, while with Hatice they were mostly saying that it would pass, with Beyhan they try to justify SS's decision. They're right, yes, because the audience knows that he was a continuous traitor, but Beyhan didn't and couldn't see it that way (at least not yet) and they didn't understand. Only Hatice tried to understand, but to Beyhan that all was just empty words, because Hatice was trying to empathize, but how could she empathize when she doesn't know the actual extent of that pain? Valide also didn't understand. And she couldn't understand. She wasn't truly willing to go beyond what had to be done and consolation while justifying the object of Beyhan's rage would in no way work at that moment. Beyhan was indeed disappointed by everyone then, which caused her to detach herself to all these alleged familial values, because that was almost fully destroyed. And while SS was the most culpable in this aspect and Beyhan was aware of that, Valide (and Hatice) also plays a part in this with her bad attempts to console. And Beyhan's actions are totally understandable.

Still, we should note that Valide didn't react in the same way she did when she found out about Ibrahim's affair, because the situations were inherently different. Ibrahim's infidelity seemed to be both a bigger and more personal issue than Ferhat's execution. Or actually, Ferhat's execution was a necessity regardless, in spite of Beyhan's feelings, something that needed to be done for "the order to be kept" after so many betrayals from the pasha, while with Ibrahim we have a situation with a whole cascade of consequences and many, too ruthless executions. It would not only hurt Hatice's feelings, but it would distort all the balance and piece of the dynasty in a massive way. We once again circle back to Beyhan being more stable as a character, we see that, but Valide also knows that and she may not have expected Beyhan to want to cut herself out from everyone like that. She expected her to understand the necessity of the execution anyway, but with Hatice she knew that wouldn't be possible because of all she suffered because of Ibrahim and the fragile state of her mind. Beyhan was different in that regard and even though they lived far from each other, I believe Valide knew that about her daughter. And we see that Beyhan did the right call in cutting herself out for a bit and took things far better than Hatice did when it came to her husband's death because of it.

We should hand it to Hafsa for still trying numerous times to stop Ferhat's execution before it happened. It showed that she was perfectly able to take and did take the feelings of her children into consideration, because she knew that would hurt Beyhan in some ways and used that as an argument in front of SS. This even made him wait and postpone the decision as much as he could. But really, Valide took account of Beyhan's feelings, but I feel her reaction went past her worst expectations. There is also the angle of Valide's motherhood and value of family being in conflict with her immense care for tradition. (both layers of her character were in accordance in Hatice's case.)

And ultimately, Beyhan realized that a punishment for her husband was in order (but exile, not execution!), reunited with Hatice, regretting her earlier words to her, and came to mourn Hafsa after all, but the wound still remained and I don't think she let it go completely. She didn't come in the harem (except for E84 when Hatice called Hürrem out for the entertainment), which could mean that there's a part of her that would never go back there because of the lingering memory. And that included both SS and Valide.

[impaladolan]

Capture - Grayson Dolan [2/-]

summary: after an unsuccessful attempt to escape, Y/N is in for more than she bargained..

warnings: lil bit of smut, swearing, and bdsm undertones

a/n: this is part TWO of this little series! check out part one before reading this!

Your senses slowly began to settle back into you, and you finally realized just what kind of mess you were in..

Right after his bold exit, your exhaustion caught up to you and your eyes became as heavy a dumbbells. But when you awoke for the second time that evening, the situation truly hit you right in the noggin.

You were in a foreign place, that you were incredibly scared to even attempt an escape out of. The foggy memory of the stunning man that had entered the room, was becoming a false reality. Had you dreamt of him? Was he just a twisted piece of your imagination?

Surely not.

It seemed so utterly real that the nameless man had to be an actual human. And even that thought scared the absolute shit out of you. If he were to barge right through the same door, you wouldn't know how to even address him, let alone look at him. So you stayed hidden beneath the large comforter, softly shaking with fear as your eyes began to water. You were starting to miss things you never thought you could miss. Like the pumpkin-apple candle that you'd light from time to time, or your piano you love to play, to wake you up in the mornings and settle you down in the evenings. Hell, you were even beginning to miss your refrigerator that held all your favorite foods and drinks, and your spacious bathroom that you regularly took a soaking bubble bath in.

Oh god, a bathroom. Just at the mere thought, your bladder revolted and signaled it's everlasting need to be freed. But you were too scared. Though, you couldn't last much longer without accidentally pissing yourself, but that'd just make this dreadful day even worse. So with your fears in mind and the shaking of your body reminding you, you pushed back the covers and lifted yourself from the cushiony mattress, your toes curling at the frigid touch of the marble floors. You oddly looked left and right, in search of what could possibly be a hidden camera or worse— a person, but came short with nothing of the sort. You began your tip-toeing steps towards an open door that unmistakably led to the sacred toilet you were literally yearning for, and ever so softly shut the door, for at least a little privacy. It was an expensive looking bathroom with even more expensive looking appliances.

But without further examining you rush to the porcelain bowl and pull down your undergarment, quickly seating yourself and letting all the filtered tension go. A relieved sigh escaped your lips, but your asscheeks sure did feel sore.

Maybe it wasn't a dream..

You let your thoughts roam as you emptied your bladder and tore a piece of toilet paper from its roll and wiped, finishing with the click of the flushing button and directing yourself towards the sink. The women in the mirror caught your eye, though she looked oddly untouched. You thought you'd at least have a bruise or two fluttered across your arms or your face, but it appeared as though you were as good as new and unbothered. Whoever had kidnapped you didn't fully intend harm, but rather some other premeditated plan that you weren't truly sure of.

Though you felt somewhat at ease, your frightened thoughts lingered and you washed your hands quickly and tip-toed back to your aclaimed warm bed that you slightly missed the absence of. You could've gone for round three of sleeping that day, but yet again, to your dismay, the familiar sound of a door opening and closing kept your eyes open, and an unfamiliar scent glided into your nostrils and made your stomach growl profusely.

"Hungry, darling?" The same voice from your dreams questioned the air around you and just as before, you couldn't refrain from laying your eyes on him. He was undoubtably real, except this time he was fully clothed in a tucked white dress shirt and pants, a belt tightly wrapped around his waist. He was even dreamier than before with his hair all done up and his fingers clad with shiny rings that hadn't caught your eyes before. You drew your attention away and slowly nodded, bringing the large blanket up to shield yourself from his eyes. He set the platter down on the nightstand with what looked to be a sweet smile and grabbed a little portable table to set just above your thighs. He neatly settled the prepared food onto it and seated himself at the end of the bed, motioning his hand for you to begin.

You were hesitant to eat anything he could've made at first, but you were more scared of him becoming mad, so you gladly picked up your spoon and began to chew on the nice noodle soup, it's brothy flavor feeling nice on your throat. You almost whimpered at the taste when you finished your very first bite, your eyelids shutting and your head titled back in sensation. "Good?" His deep, softened voice brought you back to reality and your head was nodding before you could detest anything of it. "For how mouthy you were this morning, you sure haven't said much at all." His words struck true as you thought back to the prior events, his seething words and your snooty comments that arises the anger in him.

"Well, I'm sorry to inform you, but you had caught me in a moment of weakness and I will forever regret it. I was taken against my own free will, without the ability to even fight for my freedom, and you think it's fair to treat me like a whore who "deserves to be punished" and was in quite a drowsy state of mind. You're a sick bastard whether you've been told that or not." You seemingly growled at him, but he didn't seem to be angered, let alone offended. With all the stillness and subtleness in the world, he answered;

"Yes, it may have been a moment of weakness, Ms.

Y/L/N, but when was the last time that that pretty pussy of yours was touched, hm? How long has it been since you've came by someone else's hand, or cock perhaps? Darling, I may be a stranger to you, but you're no stranger to me." And with that, he left you stunned (and regrettably horny), all alone in the same room you've been trapped in for who knows how long? Ugh, it was so angering the way he could flip what you say into something far from being similar to anything you were trying to argue.

But he was right..

Yes, it's been a rough couple years in the dating life for you. Though, it never had to do with "supply of men" because here and there, you'd get a little flustered by a handsome man wondering if you'd like to get coffee sometime. But you'd always sweetly decline and carry on with your day. You were a focused, driven person that had their mind set on nothing else but your arising business endeavors. You simply didn't want to begin a relationship because you weren't fully ready to give so much attention to one thing while you were too focused on another.

And being honest, men are very clingy. And mysterious..

His final little statement about "You're no stranger to me" really confused you. Had you met him before? Was he from your hometown? It was truly a mystery. Who's to say he wasn't some sort of stalker whose been following you for the past five years? But that sounds absurd. Why would such a handsome, dreamy, sexy— a'hem, man want to have anything to do with you? Whatever it is, you weren't exactly mad about it. Because just like earlier, when you were hazy and half asleep, you felt the same tingling and flutters right down to your core. He was so smooth with his words, it's hard not to fall to your knees and become his beckon call. Fuck, anytime you laid eyes on him, your body begins to writhe with shudders, creating that pooling sensation where your core throbbed the worst. A large part of you couldn’t wait to see him tomorrow, throw some sly comments at him or even try escaping, anything to catch his attention.

So before drifting asleep, your mind raced with loose plans and tactics for tomorrow, when you’d awake in the same room for presumably the third or fourth time.

-

Go time.

Initially, you had planned to sneak out only to anger him, but now that you were thinking about it, why not at least try to escape the clutches of the room and run away, hopefully home if you could.

You were missing it so much already, though you’ve only been gone for approximately thirty-two hours (maybe). But you were becoming bored with the view of absolutely nothing except gray walls and the one large painting on the wall. It looked like a countryside, a barn with a red roof-top and white siding while trees decorated the entire area around it. It was an odd picture to be put in this room, it didn’t really match the minimalist vibe the entire rest of the proximity put off. But anyway, it felt weird getting out of bed and twisting the handle on the door, and to your satisfaction, it opened with a faint click and you were finally able to be freed of this room.

The even more so frigid air smacked you straight between the eyes the moment you fully opened the door, it made your eyes water slightly. Taking the very first step out of the room, you notice that the walls in the long hallway are a powder color, which brought a weird grin to your face.

Those gray walls just weren’t doing the trick.

You slowly begin to tip-toe to the right of the entryway, looking in every direction possible. You didn’t really know if he lives alone or with others, but you were banking on the possibilities that there were others in the nice, freezing home.

Why the fuck does he keep it so cold?

You continued your slow, padding steps until you came across another door-less room; the kitchen. Thankfully there was no one in the huge kitchen, and your stomach jolted to the smell of just another soup, you just couldn’t recognize it. You almost scavengered for a spoon, but the faint sound of shallow footsteps corrupted your hearing and you b-lined straight to a cabinet, that happened to be a pantry once you were enclosed inside. Before entering, the pairs of footsteps let out a few hoarse chuckles and cackles, ultimately placing them as men. From what you could see in the tiny, barely visible crack, you could for sure make out who was standing directly left to the cabinet you were stuck in; the panty-dropping hottie from earlier.

You were just praying to God that he wouldn’t find you.

You took every breath as carefully and slowly as possible, not moving a muscle as the two men conversed, though it was muffled and incomprehensible. After what seemed like hours, you swore you heard a few goodbyes and a loud door shut. You wanted to sprint out of the damn tight-knit cabinet and run for your dear life, but you slowly opened the door and breathed in a large breath once you were finally free of your slight claustrophobic fears.

“Better run, sweetheart.” His deep, distasteful voice scared the wits out of you, which made your instincts ignite the moment he took a step closer to you. Before you knew it, your feet were pacing back and forth in long strides as your arms pumped up and down, though your blanked mind came to a loss on the directions out of the house.

This was it.

There was no way you’d make it out of here. He was obviously much faster and actually knew the layout of his own house, while you, on the other hand, had no damn clue where the front door is. So your heart sank deep in your chest when you felt his warm, muscular arms wrap around the entirety of your waist before you hand could even grasp an unknown handle that you were violently reaching for.

“Think you’re fucking smart, princess?” He whispers in your ear, carrying you away, presumably to your prior settings while you helplessly let him. You didn’t even thrash against him, or even attempt a kick to his groin.

You just.. let him.

“Fuckin’ lucky I don’t tie you up and spank your ass until it’s numb again.” He murmurs to himself, dropping you off on the same bed you’ve been sleeping and awakening in whilst he shuts and locks the door too. Just his little comment to himself made your mouth water and your pussy clench. It was hard enough being in such a close proximity with him.

Once testing the door to see if it was locked properly, he turned back to look at you with a cold, lustful stare that had you aching all over yet again. For someone that you don’t even know their formal name, you sure did have the ‘hots’ for him. In a flash, his shirt was off and his pants were unbuckled, the heat arising in your cheeks as he strode over to you in his nakedness. “Knees. Now.” He points to the floor below him, watching with demanding eyes. You, of course, reacted before thinking. You were on your knees in seconds and had your hands wrapped around his increasingly large girth. You really hadn’t looked at it before, you were honestly terrified to. But now that it was right in front of you and your fist was slowly pumping it, you craved it.

“Since you haven’t been very nice to Daddy, you’re gonna have to give him a little sweet treat..” He caressed the top of your head, looking down upon the sight of you stroking him made his cock jump slightly. With your own eyes in him, you ran your tongue along the protruding, red vein of his cock, suctioning off his tip like it was a straw. He threw his head back with a pleasured sigh as your warm and thick muscle made his erection grow. With a few internal encouragements in your head, you let your mouth intake more, slowly edging its way to his public bone. What you hardly couldn’t fit, you let your fingers glide over. His sharp intakes of breaths and groans had your own self a mess, and you almost wanted to creep your own two ‘flimsy’ fingers down there and relieve it.

You let your hands travel to his constricting balls, fondling them with the slightest of touches. He squinted his eyes and held himself back from coming right then, but it was too late. For his thick, hot ribbons of cum released all the way down your throat and to your chin.

He didn’t last long..

It unusually tasted sweet, compared to others who seemed to be sour and gummy. Though he was done and physically drained, you continued slow motions, only quickening them by the second. Overstimulating has and will always be one of your favorite kinks. To see someone shaking and aching from their own sensitivity made you all the more horny and sexually-frustrated. But the overstrung man put an end to the real quick, pulling you to your feet and shoving you back onto the cushiony bed where your comfy gown rose and his intense stare darkened.

“Don’t you make one fucking sound..”

(masterlist)

[eryiss]

Chapter Ten - The Hollidays

Summary: Freed and Laxus live incredibly different lives. Freed is a corporate lawyer in the capital city, and Laxus works as a handyman in a countryside hotel. Despite their differences, their lives collide when Freed inherits a house in Laxus’ village, and hires him to make the derelict building liveable. But the closer they get, the more they seem to offer each other. [Fraxus Multi-Chapter]

This was written as my admission for Fraxus Day 2020, hosted by @fuckyeahfraxus​. Happy Holidays Everyone. Hope you enjoy the chapter.

You can read this under the cut, on Fanfiction, or on Archive of Our Own. You can find the chapter masterpost here.

Chapter Ten – The Holidays

They hadn't spoken about it. They hadn't spoken about anything. They hadn't even seen each other since it happened.

Laxus had woken up in Freed's bed, wrapped up in the man's crisp sheets without a bedpartner. The sound of movement had stirred him, and through bleary eyes he had seen Freed moving through his bedroom. He'd watched as Freed had retreated quietly into the cottage's bathroom, followed by the sound of a shower. He returned a little bit later, to dress himself, and for reasons he couldn't explain Laxus pretended to be asleep.

With closed eyes, he had heard Freed's sigh. He'd shaken Laxus' shoulder to wake him, but the blonde continued to keep up the pretence of sleep. He had eventually given up, and the sound of pen against paper filled the room. Laxus should have made it known he was awake at that point, but he didn't.

And then Freed left, but not before gifting Laxus a featherlight kiss and whispering, "Happy Christmas my love."

Laxus only opened his eyes when he heard the locking of the front door followed by the sound of Freed's car engine starting. When he did, he sat up in Freed's large bed and rested against the headboard with a sigh, already regretting his stupid decision to remain silent as Freed woke. But he couldn't hang out the window, yelling in the hope that Freed would hear him and turn around so that Laxus could…

Could do what exactly?

Thank him for a night he would most likely never forget? Try to take back his words and all but beg for the opportunity to see if a long-distance relationship could work between them despite his disdain for them? Convince both Freed and himself that he wouldn't mind battling Freed's job for the man's attention for as long as they were together? It wasn't… those weren't things that Laxus could do.

So instead, he had sighed, and looked to the bedside table where Freed had written a note for him to find. A note that Laxus still had on his person, tucked into his jeans pocket, a week later.

It was pathetic really.

New Year's Eve was meant to be a night of celebration for young people, if Laxus could still be considered young. Admittedly, living in a town like Magnolia meant there wasn't much to do on New Year's Eve other than a few bars, but at least that would have been something. But, instead of doing that, he found himself at his grandfather's party, surrounded by people considerably older than he was. He was sat on the sofa, attempting to find some entertainment in the TV coverage of New Years in Era.

The location felt like a kick in the teeth. Because Freed would most probably be out there somewhere, with Evergreen and Bickslow, enjoying themselves and taking advantage of the night long party that the city became. Perhaps Laxus should have asked Freed if he could go with them.

He'd been tempted. But after what had happened, Laxus didn't know what to say to him.

They'd texted a couple of times, but never anything of substance. Laxus had wished Freed a Happy Christmas, they'd had some small talk but that was it. Laxus had wanted to ask how he was coping without any family members throughout the day, remembering how bad the holidays had been without his mother for his first time, but couldn't find the guts to press send. It was ridiculous, because before their night together things had been so easy. But after, Laxus didn't quite no where he stood with Freed.

Because the end date was coming. Only the bathroom needed to be finished in the house, and that would take a few days at most. Once that was finished, Freed would look into selling it, and his time spent in Magnolia would be over. And Laxus couldn't help but wonder if their promise of only having one night together was meant to be an ending to their relationship as a whole.

It was a thought he tried not to linger on.

And to stop it from ruining his mood, he stood and walked to the kitchen, where an array of drinks had been placed for anyone to take. Laxus picked up one of the flimsy plastic cups and assessed all of the drinks on offer, before settling on beer. He doubted his grandfather would be pleased to find a pint of his wine gone.

As he gulped down the drink, he unfortunately didn't instantly forget his anxieties about Freed leaving his life, but it at least gave him the confidence to be optimistic. Because Freed wasn't just going to pack up and leave his life like that; he was the kind of man who made friends cautiously but stuck with them through thick and thin. Even in the note he had left Laxus, he mentioned wanting to continue their friendship.

Pathetically, he found his hand grazing his pocket as the urge to reread it grew.

But the urge was more powerful than any good sense that he had left, so he reached into his pocket as he leant on the kitchen counter. He unfolded the now crumpled paper, placing his beer to the side of him, and began to read through the words that he had already committed to memory.

He tried not to let the feeling of melancholy consume him as his eyes roamed the page.

~~~

"You know, if you're gonna be like this all night, you could at least tell me why."

At Cana's words, Laxus let out a small grunt. She and Mirajane had arrived at Makarov's party a few hours prior, which had been enough time for Laxus' mood to get worse and worse. The more he stood around Makarov's house, surrounded by old men and women who had known him since he was born, the more he was reminded of his life before he had met Freed and his life had gained more purpose.

Because this party was what his life had been. Just standing around with nothing to do, wishing the hours away and the day to end, only to have another day of the same boredom. Every day had been like that, and Laxus had a horrid feeling that it would be like that again.

At least with the party, he could step outside and get away for a while.

"You should at least try to cheer up before he gets here," Mirajane sighed.

"Before who gets here?" Laxus muttered, taking a drag from his cigarette.

"Your boyfriend, dipshit," Cana taunted, and Laxus' eyes flickered to her in alarm. Her expression faltered. "You do know he's coming, right?"

Laxus shook his head, a little dumbly.

Why didn't he know that; he should have known that? He was, at least to Laxus' knowledge, the only real point of contact that Freed had in Magnolia. How would Freed have even found out about the party, since Laxus had never mentioned it was happening? And even if someone had mentioned it to him and invited him, surely he would have at least told Laxus to expect him there. Their texting had been limited, but it had still been there.

A flush of both excitement and dread filled the blonde. It was very possible that every concern and worry about the future of their relationship would be either confirmed of denied very quickly, and he hadn't been given the time to prepare.

"Lisanna's getting him from the train station right now, she left a while ago," Mirajane explained.

"Why her?" Laxus asked, though the real question of 'why not me?' was obvious.

"When Freed was staying at the hotel, they saw a lot of each other. She insisted on waiting his table when he had breakfast in the restaurant," Mirajane shrugged a little. "I think that, other than you, she's probably the person he's closest to in Magnolia. Apparently he wanted to talk to her, but I wouldn't worry. It's not like she's Freed's type."

"Maybe he wants to make you jealous," Cana grinned. "Maybe he thinks it'll make the lovin' bett-"

"Can you just stop with that shit for one fucking night," Laxus raised his voice, aggression clear as he glared.

Nobody spoke for a moment.

"I'm gonna get a drink," Cana muttered, leaving the front garden, and going back into the house.

Laxus sighed. "I didn't mean to be-"

"I know you didn't," Mirajane smiled placatingly. "She's just a prideful woman, and she can take things too far without realising it. I should go and check on her," She pushed off from the wall she was leaning on and smiled at Laxus. "And, if the reason you're feeling down is because of Freed, then try and make up."

"It ain't him," Laxus lied.

"Well then you should make the most of him being here then," She suggested, though Laxus doubted she had believed him. "Because he makes you happy, and that's important. Don't throw it away."

She walked into the house, and Laxus raised the cigarette to his lips again, looking up the road in the hopes of catching sight of headlights coming towards the house.

~~~

A car eventually did show up, and Laxus' heartbeat increased sporadically when he saw that it was Lisanna's. He quickly dropped the cigarette to the ground and stomped it out, not knowing what Freed's opinion on smoking was; whenever he had smoked over the past few months, he had done it in private and never where Freed would find him, though he'd found the urge a lot less overpowering and had indulged a lot less since meeting Freed.

He supposed it was the by-product of having things to do with hit time.

The car pulled up on the road outside of Makarov's house, and out from it came both Lisanna and Freed, dressed in his obnoxiously tempting suit; made more tempting now that Laxus knew what lay under it. That thought went as fast as it came, however, as when their eyes met Laxus found his mind blank.

Lisanna said something to Freed, patted the man on the shoulder and walked into the house, smiling at Laxus as she passed him. This left the two men alone in the cold night air, looking at each other in a moment of almost stupefied silence.

"Laxus," Freed eventually said, and the sound of his voice was like music to Laxus.

"Hey," Laxus said, and his voice only barely wavered. "How are you?"

"I'm good," Freed nodded a little. He visibly swallowed, and took a step towards Laxus. "Could we talk, please?"

"Yeah, sure," Laxus also moved, meeting Freed in the middle. He motioned to the small brick wall that separated the front garden from the pathway. "You wanna sit?"

"Thank you," Freed nodded again.

This wasn't going to be a good conversation, Laxus could tell. The very fact that Freed was willing to sit in the cold winter air near the middle of the night said quite a lot. But, Laxus could see Freed gently grazing the palm of his hand while he moved, a nervous tick that Laxus had picked up on a while ago for when Freed was feeling overwhelmed and nervous. This couldn't be a good conversation, and Laxus forced himself to breath calmly before sitting beside him.

"I should apologise," Freed began, his voice low. Regretful. "For kissing you, and certainly for suggesting that we have a night together. You made it clear that it wasn't for the best, and I should have listened."

"I wanted it as much as you did," Laxus admitted. "I enjoyed it, so you don't need to feel guilty. It's just, that's all it could be."

"I know," Freed sighed, looking down at his lap rather than at Laxus. Laxus wished he was looking at him. "But that doesn't change the fact that, the reason I did it was because I was being selfish. I was too focused on what I wanted to think about what was best for us both, and I am very sorry for that. Because if I hadn't kissed you, if I hadn't wanted more from you than I should have, then we'd probably not be out here, having a conversation like this. We'd be inside, enjoying ourselves. But we can't do that, can we?"

"I guess not," Laxus sighed, admitting to a truth that he hated. Because as much as he wanted things to be normal, they weren't.

"I really am sorry," Freed whispered. "Everything you said was right, though. Why we couldn't be together. But I need you to know-"

"Freed," Laxus quivered. "Don't."

"I need you to know that I want to change. That I'm trying to-"

"Please don't do this," Laxus' plea was barely audible.

"-become a better-"

"Freed," Laxus almost begged, voice cracking and getting Freed's attention fully. "You can't do this, you just can't. Because the more you speak, the more I'm gonna believe you. You're like a… a fucking drug to me. I don't get why exactly but I knew you were gonna be big in my life the second I saw you but… I can't get addicted to you. Because it's only gonna end badly."

"Why do you think that?" Freed asked, voice bordering on breaking.

"Because it would," Laxus swallowed. "Because your moms dead and you're refusing to deal with it, and I know what happens when you do that. Because you've got a job and a life that I don't know anything about, and I couldn't work with. Because you're not the kind of guy I could have something casual with. For whatever reason Freed you're the first guy I know to ever make me want more than just a quick fuck or a few weeks together. What I want from you, you can't give me right now. And if we get together, and if you keep saying that there's a chance we can work out, then one day it'll all go to hell."

"Laxus," Freed started again. Laxus wouldn't let him.

"You said one night, that was it," He tried to make his voice strong. "And that's what we did. And I can't risk tainting it. You're more important to me than you know, and I can't ruin it. And I think if we do anything more, then I can't see a way that we end up happy."

"I see," Freed whispered.

Neither spoke for a while after that, instead sitting side by side as the cold winter air flowed over them. Laxus found himself blinking back tears, unable to look anywhere but at his feet as seeing Freed might be too painful. He suspected that Freed might have been doing the same.

"Laxus," Freed said eventually. "Do you remember when you invited me to live in Magnolia? You told me that, in certain circumstances, you can't just carry on doing what you're doing because its easy, and that you sometimes need to remove yourself from a situation to find out who you are now," Laxus nodded. "I think I need to find out who I am without you. Or at least without the possibility of something happening between us."

And didn't that feel like shit.

"So you need to take a step back from me," Laxus whispered, blinking harder now.

"I think so," Freed sighed. "Not permanently, I hope. But you're right, the more time we spend together, the more I'll want to be with you. And if you're as certain as I believe you are, then I think we shouldn't see each other for a while. That we shouldn't… torture ourselves with something that we can't have."

"Yeah," Laxus voice broke. "Makes sense."

"I'm sorry Laxus."

"Don't be," Laxus forced himself to shrug. "I'm the one saying we can't be anything. You're just respecting that."

"Are you okay?"

"Fuck knows," Laxus laughed a little. "You?"

"No," Freed admitted. "I think I should leave, though. There's no good that can come from dragging it out."

"Guess not," Laxus took in a quivering breath. "You wanna call a taxi or something?"

"I'll stay at the house tonight, I can walk there," Freed sighed. "I really am sorry, Laxus."

"It's not your fault," Laxus whispered. "It just is what it is."

"I suppose so," Freed's voice wavered. "Goodbye, Laxus."

"Goodbye, Freed."

With an audible, quivering sigh, Freed stood up. The sound of shoes on tarmac became quieter and quieter as Freed walked away from Laxus, and the blonde only looked up when he knew that Freed was out of sight. He let out a strangled breath, looking at nothing as a wash of misery overtook him. He found his hands moving towards the note in his pocket without realising it, and a moment later he was looking down at it with tears prickling at the corners of his eyes.

'Dear Laxus,

I would first like to explain why I'm not here for when you wake. This was in no way my intention, but my train to Era was looming and, despite my best efforts, you are nearly impossible to wake. You have a rather endearing habit of gently snoring, so I can forgive you for that. I do wish I could have spoken to you before I left though.

Our time together last night was incredible, I expect I won't ever forget it, and it is entirely because I shared it with you. You seem to enlighten my existence in a way I can hardly put into words, even though I intend to try. You seem to brighten me, challenge me, and make me a better man. It's as if I have been struck by lightning just by being in your proximity, and your influence on my life has been only positive. When we kissed, it felt as though life was reinvigorated for me. Please know that you are one of the best people I have met, and your kindness is something I'll never be able to thank you enough for.

But I understand why last night is all that we can have as anything other than friends. I know why we can't be more, and as much as I would love to indulge my urges to keep you in my arms for as long as you'd have me, I understand why we can't.

I only wish we can still remain part of one another's lives still. I hope to see you soon, my love.

Freed.'

As the fireworks exploded behind him, bringing in the new year, Laxus let himself cry.