#toning down the beard today since I think it's kind of funny that he ended up looking like mr townsend of townsends fame last time

[chiropteracupola]

sunshine afternoon (though with this color palette you can hardly tell)

[flintlock fortress, as always, is a collaboration with @dxppercxdxver]

[furblrwurblr]

Patience, love!

Hey hey hey! Guess who made another Douxie x reader soulmate fic? m e

Douxie x Reader Soulmate AU, fluff, angst. crack if you squint.

Warnings: Swearing, I was far more casual this time, more misunderstandings aha, angst if you squint but it's not that hidden

The song in question: here, viewer discretion advised. It's emo boy by Ayesha Erotica, and this fic doesn't make a whole lot of sense without it? It can but you'll have to wait for a vague clarification.

Please enjoy our boy feat. Zoe!

Part 2

For as long as you’ve lived, your soulmate’s thoughts about you wrote themselves on your body, just as they had for nearly a millennium. You could tell you’d missed yours a few times. Back in Italy, you’d often stumble out of an alley after a riveting fight with a litter of canal criblets and their mother (why did the only aggressive species of hippocampi have their kids in the canals?) with quiet compliments and passing thoughts along your limbs.

“Another wizard? I wonder where they studied,” or “That was quite a spell, great technique! Wait! Watch out for the-” (that time you’d been a teeny bit distracted by the compliment and whirled around just in time to meet a screaming criblet doing its damndest to bite your face off with its nasty little teeth and bruise you with its impish little hooves. The fuckers were sharp.) The critter left you in a blinding blast of blue. Someone dressed in near all-black ran past you, but by the time your eyes cleared, the blue light was blasting away across the canal and a couple of violent hippocampi babies prevented you from following. Since, you always kept an eye out for that telltale blue light.

༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓

Over time, soulmate laws abated, seen as inhumane towards those unfortunate enough to not have one and those who simply didn’t want one. The law changes allowed you to date around a bit, but, with each partner, you felt more and more guilty as you learned about your true soulmate. By now, you’d discovered he’s a he, he’s a wizard, and he’s a hopeless romantic. Often he’d daydream about all kinds of cheesy dates and tropes he hoped to do with you. Most painfully, he thought about how excited he was to experience everything with you for the first time. Of course, you two had already had mental conversations about it and though he always accepted it, you could tell he was a bit disappointed. You didn’t have many firsts left and said you’d save those at least, but he, sweetheart he was, said he’d just give you more firsts. First scuba dive. First romantic boat date, but in the clouds. First couple’s bake at 3 AM in your shared flat. 

You stopped dating after that.

༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓

Now, it was the start of the 21st century and you were impatient. You’d traveled everywhere, sign of that beautiful blue, and no help from your cheeky soulmate. Every time you asked if he was in a new country, he’d tell you: “That’s for me to know, and you to find out.” It made you tear your hair out, never settling down anywhere. After a while, he seemed to notice you were moving slower, motivation no longer able to breeze you through three large villages in a month. He started being super obnoxious about how much he “looooved America, Merlin’s beard, Land of the Free! Free! Dobby is free! What a wondrous place!” After a sharp word and a warm, giddy feeling from him, you were on a plane to The ‘States. What a way to start your 2000’s, huh?

Sixteen years. It had taken you sixteen years to comb the country, starting from New York and finally reaching California. You could feel your hope dwindle, but you had one last straw to go on: Benoit’s. He’d wanted to take you there a couple times within the past couple years so it must be in his area. Problem is, the entire west coast was covered in them, every city, small and large, having at least one. You’d ruled out the other states after years of searching, only California was left. With a bittersweet, determined huff, you boarded the plane.

༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓

You gave up. Where the fuck was this guy? For the first time in your life, you decided to settle. You’d looked in every nook and cranny California had to offer and didn’t find him. No magic, no man, no nothing. Seeing as you couldn’t seem to find shit, you turned to your magic. You could cast a few defensive and offensive spells, but your speciality was tracking. Ironic, isn’t it? You’d tried searching for him that way, but his aura was too warded and its memory too faded from your memory to work. However, now you were doing it for yourself. You bought a map and worked your magic, seeking stone swinging in perfect circles and settling around a small town called Arcadia. Funny, you hadn’t been there yet. What if- no. “He’s gone”, you reminded yourself. You found a flat in the area and set off. 

༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓

Douxie felt it the moment you gave up. He didn’t know exactly what you’d given up on, but he did know he hadn’t seen any more locations pop up in a couple weeks. For some ungodly known reason, he didn’t realize that all your questions of his whereabouts weren't just a passing curiosity. He was waiting for fate to bring you two together, not considering his soulmate might be so impatient and eager to meet him that they’d travel the ends of the earth. 

He’d been washing dishes at Benoit’s when his coworker pointed out the little black letters on the back of his shoulder. “He’s gone.” He went back to work with a heavy heart. “So much for waiting for fate,” he thought.

You’d just moved the last box into your new flat when you saw it. So much for fate? You spent the rest of the day in bed, tears christening your rented mattress. “I guess he gave up too.��

You couldn’t live off your savings forever, you only had so much gold left from the Golden Age of Piracy to sell to museums. Within a week, you’d secured jobs at the local Speedway and HexTech. You convinced yourself you were okay, that this was better for you. You bonded with your coworkers at HexTech, but there was one you were having difficulties with. Normally this wouldn’t be an issue, but you really admired her. Her name was Zoe, and you couldn’t get enough of her. 

One day, you worked up the nerve to strike up a conversation during your shared counter shift. She liked you when you got to talking, and said she’d help you finish unpacking your flat as soon as you told her why you didn’t generally act so free as you did in the past hour of conversation. You agreed to tell her while she helped you.

The two of you made a day of it. She brought snacks and a housewarming movie for you both to watch when you finished, and you made a smorgasbord for lunch paired with a good wine you’d been saving since the 1800’s. No time like the present, eh?

You plopped onto the stained couch that came with the place. Heaving a great, satisfied sigh, you looked over your flat with a smile. Settling felt good, like you had a place you belonged.

“It looks fantastic, Zoe, thank you for the help.”

“I’m good, aren’t I,” she said with a confident smile, sitting next to you on the couch. A few moments pass in silence. Her tone shifted. “Spill,” she demanded.

You sigh and recounted all that’s happened with your soulmate. Your passing in Italy. Your shame. His enthusiasm. The shift that seemed to occur all at once, both of you switching gears at the same time.

She looked at you sympathetically, knowing full well how it felt when things went wrong with a soulmate. Sucking in a breath, she hesitated. You could tell she was trying to find the right words. You almost told her it was alright that she didn’t have to-

“He sounds like a dumbass,” she blurted. 

You shared a laugh, agreeing.

“I really do like him,” you sighed. “Some part of me still has something there, you know? This is one of the few places I haven’t looked, there’s a Benoit’s here, but I’m… I’m petrified.”

Zoe looked you over. “Give me your phone.” She held out her hand and cut off any protests. After some fiddling, she handed it back and you found 5 alarms and 2 calendar events, all with very obnoxious titles. “You. Me. Benoit’s. You’re not getting out of it, I’ll bring a grit-shaka if I have to.

You groaned and moaned about it as she put in the movie, the self-satisfied smirk never leaving her face. You quieted down as the movie started, realizing there was no way around it. You were secretly thankful for such aggressive support, but opted to shake all thoughts of soulmates from your mind as you shared this moment with your new friend.

༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓

Today was the day. You’d gotten into something comfortable to try and calm your nerves, but it wasn’t doing much. After fixing your hair for the third time, you jumped at a knock on the door. Zoe came in, grabbed your purse, and pulled you out of the building by the wrist. You started walking, the cafe only two blocks away. By the first block your hands were shaking. Zoe pulled you behind Stuart’s electronics and held up a grit-shaka.

“Mother Midril, you were serious?”

“Deadly,” she said, looping it around your neck.

Your shaking calmed instantly, your magic preventing it from getting too out-of-hand. Troll magics were tricky.

You two walked in and sat at a booth, ordering your respective coffees and breakfast items from a nice young man, he couldn’t have been older than sixteen. After a bit of a wait, the voice of Adonis himself asked you both how you were doing, handing you your coffees. He spoke with Zoe a bit and introduced himself to you as Douxie. You confidently responded in kind, but your mind could only think of one thing.

You struggled to keep your composure, even with the grit-shaka. Yes, the thing calmed your nerves, but damn did it bring back some old habits. You saw Zoe’s eyes widen at Douxie’s arm but paid it little mind. He was hot. Long hair, tight jeans… you barely responded coherently as Emo Boy by Ayesha Erotica blasted through your brain. Yes, it was embarrassing, yes, you wanted your soulmate more than anything, but gods above he was your type and you’d be damned to not appreciate it.

As soon as he left, you brought your hand behind your neck and removed the blasted thing, looking at Zoe in shock. Her expression mirrored yours but for a very different reason. Douxie was the dumbass. And you’d just technically praised his dick, insulted him, and asked him to fuck you over 10 times, and it was all written up his arms and probably around his torso. She broke out into a cackle, tears mildly smudging her mascara. You were utterly confused and looked at his retreating figure over your shoulder, noticing a thought coming up the arm you’d slung over the booth chair. 

“I’m flattered, I think? You must be the little minx at table three. I knew you weren’t one for waiting, but at least buy me dinner first! I’ll be right out, just let me grab my sweater to cover this a little bit. Think of the children!”

You stopped breathing altogether. Tightening your lips, you let out a muffled scream and pulled Zoe from her seat across you. Your elbow knocked over your coffee and you nearly did the right thing of helping, but you didn’t have time. All these 800 years, all your hope and searching, and you make the worst possible first impression. Sure, it wasn’t good already, but now he had a face to put to the shame. You stumble out the door, Zoe’s laughter still following you out of the now-silent diner.

Douxies pale cheeks were blazing with color as he pulled on his sweater in the break room. Going over, ahem, such blunt words, no matter the context, wasn't good for his health. His shirt raised and he saw the hurried words appear near his hip, chuckling as he started to read. He’d seen the grit-shaka; they must have taken it off.

“Shit, it’s you? I knew going was a bad idea, I’m so sorry, I’ve probably made you so uncomfortable, I’ll be going now.”

Wait… going? Douxie slammed the door open, hearing the wall plaster crunch inside. Table three was empty and covered in coffee, your purse was still there, and the diner was completely silent. Your coat swished out the door and he tripped over himself, stumbling between tables to get to the door. He ran out into the empty street, looking for something, anything. His boss called him back in to help, and he sulked into the diner. Bending down to pick up the cup so he could mop up the mess, he lit up. Your purse. It sat on the seat, the various charms and keychains glistening with the glow of one of Mordrax’s miracles.

༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓

You and Zoe made it back to your flat, out of breath. Zoe was still giggling as she reactivated the wards on the door. You plopped on the couch again, this time in shock. Zoe shook you out of it, eyes sincere. 

“You have to go back.”

“I one hundred percent do not, there’s absolutely nothing holding me to that.”

“There’s me, dipshit, and there's something else. You’re too empathetic to put him through any more.”

You looked at her, surprised. “What do you mean?” you asked, voice small.

She explained how much it hurt him that you’d dated others even though he knew it was entirely your decision. How much of a hole it made in his heart when you gave up. How he dropped his regular temperament for a sullen, depressed shell of the man he was, going through the motions and not much more.

“I understand if you want to wait a while, but-”

“But I have to go back,” you said, drawing your knees to your chest. She scooted closer to you, wiped your gathering tears, and planted a light kiss on your forehead. She snorted when you brought your hand to the spot she’d just kissed, checking for residue from her jet black lipstick.

She gently swiped a thumb across her lip and bopped your nose. “No-transfer. I buy the good shit,” she said with a smile.

She put on a calm movie and wrapped you in a blanket, telling you how proud she was at your bravery and discussing plans for returning to Benoit’s.

༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓

Three weeks later, Douxie had called you a few times. You'd left your phone at home in Zoe’s insistence and left your purse at the scene of the crime. Now, you were ready to sort out more than your missing belongings. You walked out of your flat prepared to have another go. Sort of. You had a decorative facemask on, a large dark sweatshirt (to deter being perceived in any way), and no intention to actually speak to him. You just wanted him to know you were there and not completely rejecting him. Zoe had spoken to him, so he knew you’d be there during his shift and how nervous you were. You were grateful for her, she’d told him the gist of what you couldn’t say yourself, but some things she’d said were best heard from you. 

You sat down, fingers twitching. God, did you want to pick at something. You settled for scratching at the table, not feeling like making a mess of lint in the same booth you’d drenched in coffee not three weeks prior.

Douxie came with your drink, already having memorized what you ordered last time. Your purse was strapped across his body, laying at his hip. He gently placed it on the table and pushed your coffee towards you after carefully slipping something under it out of your field of view. You went to check and he covered it with a chuckle.

“You really aren’t very patient, are you?”

You covered your face and laughed. Taking a deep breath, you pulled the mask under your chin and placed your hands in his. “No, I’m not. Which is why I won’t wait any longer. I’m sorry. I was so caught up in myself I never thought to properly communicate with you. I hurt us both unnecessarily, can you forgive me?”

His eyes softened, lips lifting into a gentle smile. “Of course, love. I’ve waited for you for so long, and I had my part in this misunderstanding, so of course I can. I’m still on shift, but- ah, just check under the cup, would you?” He lifted one of your hands to his lips, gently brushing over your knuckles. “I’ll see you soon, darling,” he said, getting up and back behind the counter.

You took a slow sip of your now-cooled coffee and nearly spit it out at what he’d placed under it. Two tickets to Warped Tour laughed at you from the tabletop. You eyed them warily as you picked up the accompanying note. 

“Hey, love! I hope you haven’t been to Warped Tour, it can be our first first! Apologies for the strange wording. I’ll see you at 7:00 on XX/XX/20XX outside your flat, I’m taking you to dinner before we go. Plus, we can get that romantic boat ride in the clouds I promised so long ago out of the way too! I can’t wait. You must be rubbing off on me. I’ll be seeing you, love. -Hisirdoux”

Next to it was a paw print. Did he have a cat? Either way, he was an absolute cheek. You drank your coffee in silence, a new calendar event to look forward to. 

[pyrobane-fandom-space]

Significant Strides in Relations

Author: Merlyn Bane

Word Count: 10.3K (shut up, don't @ me okay)

Summary: Obi-Wan Kenobi manages to catch the attention of his attache on a diplomatic mission.

Warnings: Adult Content™. Strong language, smut. Virgin!Obi I guess. Unprotected sex--wrap it up!

A/N: Did I come back from the dead just to post some completely self-indulgent bullshit? Yes I did. This is like 3.7K worth of smut with like 5K worth of justification and like 1K of Skywalker bullshit at the end and I'm not sorry about any of it. I would also just like to blame @no-droids and their Open Door series for giving me a Thing for Obi-Wan in the first place.

(gif found on google, not mine)

You want to fuck the Jedi.

And, yeah, sure, you feel a little bit bad about it. You know enough about the Order to know that that's something the Jedi don't do--if the poor man knew the direction your thoughts had taken, he'd probably be scandalized. You can clearly imagine his face turning, just, scarlet, especially because you do mean fuck. 

Obi-Wan Kenobi is visiting your planet on a diplomatic mission that you haven't been briefed on the particulars of, and you've been assigned to him as an attaché during his stay--tending to his needs, making sure he's comfortable while he's here. It's a function you've performed many, many times as part of your duties to the royal family, but Kenobi has been...particularly pleasant, to work with. The Jedi is kind, treats you like an equal even though you're technically working for him for the time being, and he's funny. You hadn't realized the Jedi were allowed a sense of humor, but Maker, this one is sarcastic, constantly teasing with a playful glint in his blue eyes that is...not helping you with the whole 'wanting to irredeemably corrupt him' problem that you're currently having. 

You show up at his quarters just before breakfast to collect him as you have for the last two days and he's already there waiting for you, opening the door just as you're coming to a stop in front of it.  Kenobi gives you a gracious smile as he steps into the hallway with you, letting the door slide closed behind him, and you return it before turning to start making your way to the dining hall. He falls in step next to you and despite the fact that he really isn't walking that close to you, you swear you can feel him there. "Good morning, young one." 

You snort softly, scrunching your nose up as you give him an unimpressed side-eye. "Young one? You realize I'm within five years of you? I think you spend too much time with your old padawan and not enough with your peers, Kenobi."

The Jedi chuckles next to you, looking suitably sheepish as he grins over at you. "My apologies, my lady," he says, and you can tell that he's teasing you lightly. You roll your eyes but don't correct him--no, instead you internalize it, and his innocent my lady gets cataloged away with the rest of the impure thoughts that have been plaguing you since you saw him in the great hall upon his arrival. "I meant no offense."

"None was taken."

The conversation sort of just...drifts off, and you take the time to study his features out of the corner of your eye while he's looking ahead. The Jedi is...handsome, and frankly you think it's very unfair of the Order to lock all of that up under a chastity vow. The lines of his face are classical, look like they could have been carved from marble--only accentuated by the scruff of the beard lining a jaw you kind of want to sink your teeth into. 

And, Maker. His eyes. The clearest crystal blue, like twin glaciers, piercing directly into your soul every time you meet them but...gentle. Always gentle. You know he's as talented a warrior as he is a negotiator, you've heard the stories, but you would never know it from his pretty eyes. 

"What are your plans for the day, Master Kenobi? Since there won't be any official matters taking place today." It's the third day of the week, and on your planet it is considered inappropriate to do such work then. Most of your people will be in services today, to include the royal family. You probably should be, but you had offered to stay behind and continue to assist the Jedi--you've never cared for such things, anyway, and you certainly think he makes for better company.

Kenobi turns his head just enough to give you a small smile before he looks forward again, humming softly as he considers his answer. "I will likely confer with the Council this afternoon, update them on how the negotiations are going. Perhaps I will take some time to meditate, as well. You may have most of the day to yourself." It's quiet for a moment, then: "And you may just call me Obi-Wan, if you wish."

Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan--

It does not escape your attention that this isn't an offer that was even extended to your employers, who he's supposed to be here on the sole purpose of brokering an agreement with. They've still been using titles with each other, you know they have. Fuck. "Obi-Wan," you repeat, hoping that it escapes his notice how much you find that you like the way it feels on your tongue. Obi-Wan. "If you find you have the time, later, maybe I could show you around a little more. There are some places on the palace grounds I think you might enjoy."

The Jedi hums again, and you can see that he's still smiling when you look over at him. "I will certainly keep that in mind."

You reach the dining hall only a few minutes later, and go your separate ways once you've gotten your food. You find a seat at one of the far tables tucked into a corner that's already populated by a couple of your fellow staff members, making sure to sit so that you're facing him so he can get your attention if he needs it. You're being elbowed almost the second your ass hits the seat, the girl to your left clearly desperate for whatever gossip she thinks you have as she leans in and whispers at you in hushed tones. 

"Maker, you've got a dreamy one. You're so lucky, I was assigned to--"

You're not even listening, not really--tuning her out while you tuck into your breakfast. You suppose you don't have any real right to be so annoyed with her, truthfully, given that you've been having similar thoughts about him yourself all morning and for most of the last couple of days, but you find that you are anyway. The girl doesn't even seem to realize that you're ignoring her, continuing to chatter at you until one of the other people at your table manages to redirect her attention, if not the subject. 

 You tell yourself that the reason your attention stays focused on the Jedi is in case he needs you for anything but you're not very convincing, even to yourself. Your mind wanders while you eat, formulating scenarios that all seem to end with Obi-Wan between your thighs. Most of these thoughts are generally nonsensical, idle flashes and half-strung together images, but some of them come through with alarming clarity. 

I want to suck his cock.

The Jedi suddenly chokes on whatever it is he's just eaten. 

You instinctively shift to stand up to try and help him but his companion is already there, smacking his back with more force than you think is probably necessary and laughing loudly enough that you can hear him from your table. Skywalker, you think his name is. He's still chuckling when they settle back down, despite the thoroughly unamused looks Obi-Wan is shooting him. You snort quietly to yourself and Skywalker turns his head to look at you like he can sense your eyes on them. Your eyes meet for a second, two, and then to your horror he winks at you.

Your stomach sinks. No. No, no. No. He's just winking at you because he caught you looking over at them, right? Jedi can't. Jedi can't read minds, right? Surely not. The younger Jedi raises an eyebrow at you, the edge of his lip curving into what can only be called a smirk, and you really. Just need the ground to open up and swallow you whole right here. Maker. You're going to have to work with Obi-Wan for the next couple of days--how the fuck are you supposed to look him in the eyes, now, knowing that he's heard you this entire time? 

 Breakfast passes both entirely too quickly and not near quickly enough, and before you know it, both Jedi are getting to their feet. You curse quietly under your breath and stand yourself, disposing of your tray before you manage to make yourself walk back over to join them. You still have a job to do, regardless of whether or not you want to dig yourself a nice deep hole to die in right now. You do your best to force a smile once you reach them, really trying your absolute hardest to pretend that none of...that, had just happened. Like you haven't been caught lusting over Obi-Wan fucking Kenobi by the man himself. 

Skywalker is the first to speak, that Maker-forsaken grin still plastered firmly in place on his face when he does. "Hello,"

You think he's having entirely too much fucking fun with this, frankly. 

Obi-Wan seems to agree with you, if the look he gives his companion then is anything to go by. You swallow, doing your best to reign in your composure as you raise a hand to wave at him in response before turning back to the man you're supposed to be assisting. "Are you--" you pause, clearing your throat before continuing. "Are you ready to return to your rooms?"

Maker. Maker. Why did you have to say--

"Quite," Obi-Wan answers before you can stutter out an apology, giving Skywalker what can only be described as a warning look before he turns back to follow you. Your gaze stays all but permanently affixed to the floor as you start making your way down the hall, the only thing indicating that he's still beside you the sound of his boots on the tile. 

You can feel his eyes on you when you reach his door but you still can't bring yourself to meet them, clearing your throat awkwardly and folding your hands behind your back in a bid to stop yourself from picking at your thumbnail from the nervous energy that's suddenly coursing through your body. "I. I hope you have a pleasant rest of your day," you manage to stutter out, taking your leave before he can say anything to stop you.

You end up having a couple of hours to yourself to stew in the privacy of your own room before anyone comes for you. 

You groan quietly when you hear the knock at your door but haul yourself to your feet and make your way over anyway, pushing your hair out of your face. You frown minutely when you find one of your coworkers standing there. Kaljova--she's assigned to Skywalker, if you recall correctly. She seems vaguely concerned with the state you're in but is kind enough not to comment on it, giving you a polite smile instead. "Master Kenobi has asked for you," Kaljova tells you, and has the grace to pretend to not notice the way your face falls with it. 

"Do you know what he needs?" you ask her, blessedly managing to keep your voice even. You reach down to grab your cloak from the table by your door and tie it around your shoulders without waiting for her to actually answer, stepping out into the hallway and letting your door close behind you. 

She shakes her head, shrugging a little bit. "Master Skywalker didn't say, I'm sorry."

You shake your head, sighing softly but giving her a small, reassuring smile. "It's okay. Thank you for letting me know."

She returns your smile and nods once before she turns around and leaves you to your own devices again. You groan quietly, pinching the bridge of your nose as you work up the nerve to actually make your way to the visiting diplomat wing where you know he's waiting for you. It takes you a couple of minutes but you do manage to make your feet move eventually and they carry you there far faster than you'd have liked them to. 

You swallow harshly and close your eyes for a second before reaching up to knock on his door, bracing yourself. Maker, he probably wants to talk about it, clear the air or whatever, and you are just...absolutely not even a little bit equipped to deal with that right now, frankly. You're able to school your features as the door slides open but just barely, and you stop breathing altogether when you look up and meet those pretty blue eyes. 

And he seems...surprised to see you. 

That kriffing--

"You...didn't send for me, did you?"

Obi-Wan shakes his head, looking more confused if possible, and you just sigh quietly, giving him an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, I think there was a...miscommunication." And I'm going to kill your fucking padawan. "I'll just--I'll just go." You raise a hand in a very awkward not-wave and turn on your heel to go, but then.

The Jedi gently grabs you by the elbow, and everything stops for a moment. 

Goddammit.

"Wait," Obi-Wan says, softly--like he's trying not to spook you. You take a deep, stuttering breath, and sigh it out, relaxing where you stand as you give up on getting out of this. "I believe...it would be a good idea, if we talked."

Yeah, that's. That's pretty much what you figured, unfortunately. 

"I'm very sorry, if I made you uncomfortable, I...I didn't know you could--" Didn't know you could hear me. 

"I know," he tells you, just as gently as before, and you reluctantly turn just enough to be able to face him. His eyes are soft when they regard you, and you find your breathing evening out despite yourself--wondering idly how much of it is actively his doing. "Just...come inside. Please."

You can't find it in yourself to deny him so you nod, letting him lead you into the room and trying to pretend that you can't feel your heart stop when the door slides shut behind you. Obi-Wan seems to notice you not knowing what to do with yourself because he gestures to one of the chairs in the sitting area, sitting down in the one opposite it once you're settled. It's quiet for a moment as both of you seem to search for the right words. 

"I would like to begin by apologizing for Anakin," he says finally, and you snort as the words register.  He gives you a wry smile in return, and continues. "He means well, but he can be...thoughtless, in his humor, at times. Particularly when it is at my expense."

"He sounds like he must have been a joy to train."

That earns you an almost startled sounding laugh out of the Jedi, which manages to get a real smile out of you. "I fear he may have also misled you, to an extent." He tells you, not quite meeting your eyes now as he scratches at his beard. You give him a questioning look and he sighs softly, leaning back in his chair. "We...can hear thoughts, but only if we go looking and it is considered very inappropriate to do so without reason."

You feel your eyebrows knit together in confusion, then, and you tilt your head at him. "But you…?"

Obi-Wan winces, and nods. "You may have...projected, this morning, inadvertently. It was...rather loud, and my guards were not as firmly in place as they probably should have been."

Oh. So you'd shouted it at him, then. Great. "Oh."

"I had...gotten a sense of the direction of your thoughts, before that, but you were acting very professionally so thought it best to pay it no mind."

That's...very kind of him, actually, to have simply ignored it even though it must have made him uncomfortable, especially when he so easily could have just told you to knock it off or requested a different attache. You clear your throat, finding yourself picking at your thumbnail again. "I appreciate that."

"You needn't be embarrassed, you know." the Jedi murmurs softly, and you look up to meet his gaze despite yourself. He smiles at you a little bit, then, and it brings something very warm into those blue eyes of his that almost makes you just a little lightheaded. "These things happen. You're only human, you can't be expected to have complete control of your thoughts all the time."

"You do," you point out, just because you feel the need to. "Jedi do. So I'm told."

"We spend our whole lives learning to try." he amends, and there's something so human in the way that he grins that suddenly, all you want to do is lean over and kiss him. "It is a constant exercise, not a skill that can be mastered."

"Still. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable this week."

"Uncomfortable might not be the right word for it, speaking truthfully," Obi-Wan admits, so quietly that you're almost not even sure he's really said it at all. And--Maker, is he implying what it sounds like he's implying? You know your eyes must be just about bugging out of your head with the shock but he mercifully either doesn't notice or pretends not to, scratching at his beard again as he seems to consider his next words, and you...really need him to stop doing that. It's becoming hard enough to maintain your focus as it is. "There were times where I was perhaps...tempted."

You stare at him, blankly, blinking slowly as the words process. Tempted tempted tempted-- "I thought Jedi couldn't…"

Obi-Wan clears his throat, and suddenly he's the one looking unsettled. "Technically, the Code prohibits intimacy, attachment. It...says nothing about the act itself."

Oh. Oh.  

You're still staring at him, just completely dumbstruck, so the Jedi seems to decide to take it upon himself to continue talking and fill the space. "For most of us it ends with the same result, functionally, but. Technically." 

Maker, get it together. You feel like you're on a several second delay, having great difficulty processing this new information, let alone giving him the verbal response to it that he's clearly waiting for, now. "Have you--"

"Almost. Once. When I was a padawan myself. My master and I were stationed on Mandalore at the time, assigned to protect the Duchess." 

You're grinning, now, you can feel it tugging at the edges of your mouth. Maker, you suddenly need to know this story like you need to breathe. "What happened?"

Stars, you swear you can see the tips of his ears turn red. "Qui-Gon caught us. It has...certainly dissuaded me from making any attempts since."

You laugh. You can't help it. Suddenly you're laughing so hard it nearly hurts, grasping your middle with one hand while wiping tears from your eyes with the other. You would feel worse about it if Obi-Wan didn't look so amused himself. "Oh, you poor thing." you snort before your brain can catch up with your mouth, and you feel your own face heat when you realize the implication of what you've just said to him. Way to go, Ace. 

Except...he's still grinning at you, amusement dancing in those blue eyes, and all the air seems to rush out of the room when they lock on your own. Kriff. "Are you suggesting that I'm missing out, then?"

He's teasing you, the bastard, and all of sudden it makes you feel bold. You lean forward in your chair, then, resting your elbows on your knees as you encroach on his space and pull your lower lip between your teeth.. "I'm not suggesting anything, Master Kenobi," you all but purr at him, "but should you be interested in finding out for yourself…"

The offer hangs in the air between you, then, like a lit fuse while you just stare at each other, both waiting to see if the other will make the next move.  

"And what might this...demonstration...entail?"

"Nothing you aren't completely on board with," you tell him immediately, because if this happens--Maker, if--it is absolutely imperative to you that he enjoys himself just as much as you do. Which...gives you an idea, actually. "I make sure my partners have a good time. Haven't done my job if they don't."

Fuck, the Jedi's eyes are blown. His pupils have nearly overtaken those pretty blue irises and it makes your breath catch with how much you want to ruin him. You can feel the tension rising in the room between you, feeding on and feeding into your arousal in a vicious cycle. He swallows, and you watch his Adam's apple bob with it and narrowly resist the urge to bite him. "Oh?"

Kriff, you need to leave before you fuck him right here and ruin your plans. You give him a small, soft smile and stand, padding over to him. His eyes track each movement, his head tilting back to gaze up at you when you come to stand between his knees, and you can see how ragged his breathing's gone at the sudden proximity. You reach out and let your palm wrap around the line of his jaw, your fingernails scratching lightly through the coarse hairs of his beard, and the Jedi's eyes fall closed before you even lean in. He gasps when your mouth brushes against his own, the faintest whisper of a kiss, and your smile widens. "I think, that you deserve to be seduced properly, Obi-Wan," you breathe. "I'm not going to fuck you, Baby, not just yet. When you really want it--then I'll give it to you."

 It takes several seconds before he's able to get words out again, and when he does you can barely hear what he's saying from the rasp in them. "I think, my lady," he pants, "that you are being exceedingly cruel."

You chuckle softly, letting your thumb brush across his lower lip before you straighten up and take a step back, ignoring the almost whine that escapes his throat when you do. "Perhaps."

For the rest of the evening, you act as normal--as if none of the events of the day had taken place. You meet with Obi-Wan and escort him to the dining hall for dinner as usual and go your separate ways once your trays are piled high. You do your best to resist the urge to glare daggers at the other Jedi, particularly when he grins and waves at you, but you are able to content yourself with the sharp look Obi-Wan gives him for it as he sits down. Dinner is uneventful despite Skywalker's best efforts, and passes quickly. You give Obi-Wan this time to...come down, essentially, to gather his wits back about him before you really set your plans into motion in the morning. You had left the Jedi absolutely wrecked this afternoon, and not only do you think it would be just a little unfair to begin your seduction in such a state, you're a little concerned that you might actually kill him if you overwhelm him so much all at once. So, you give him time to breathe. 

Or at least, that is your intent. 

The sudden drop almost seems to have the opposite effect. Obi-Wan's composure is, outwardly, as impeccable as always. No-one but you and Skywalker--you're sure--would be able to tell that anything's up. The only reason you do is because you still can't take your eyes off him so you notice the way his haven't left you, either. And, Maker, the way he looks at you. You almost want to give in, drag him back to his rooms now, but. You meant it earlier, when you said you thought he deserved better than that. The concept of virginity as a special thing is not one you've ever particularly put much stock in, yourself, but you know that this is, will be, a big deal for him whether he's willing to admit it or not. You want to give him at least this much. He might not be allowed true intimacy or emotional attachment, but that doesn't mean the sex has to be careless. You meant it, when you told him that you take care of your partners.  

The next day, you start slow. Obi-Wan is actually fairly busy with the diplomatic mission he'd been sent here on in the first place, which makes that relatively simple. The only time you really get with him that morning is when you're escorting him to and from meetings, so you spend that time finding excuses to touch him. Subtle things, like adjusting already-straight the collar of his robes. 

"Good morning, Obi-Wan," 

The Jedi steps out into the hall with you and lets the door close behind him, returning your greeting with an easy grin that makes your heart skip a beat. "Good morning. Where are we off too?"

"You have a meeting with the Chancellor, first. It'll be long and likely boring assuming Skywalker behaves himself, but productive." You give him a soft smile, stepping forward and looking up at him from under your lashes. He watches you intently, almost seeming to stop breathing for a second when you reach up and adjust the tan collar of his robes, your fingertips brushing lightly against the skin of his throat when you do. You let the moment linger a second longer than it needs to before you step back to a respectful distance and nod down the hallway. "Shall we?"

Brushing his hair out of his face when it's fallen into his eyes.

Obi-Wan looks about as tired as you expect him to when he comes out of his meeting a couple of hours later but he has a small smile for you when he sees you waiting for him in the hallway anyway. Skywalker follows him through the door seconds later but barely pays either of you any mind, grumbling something about breakfast as he follows Kaljova down the hall. The two of you stand there for another moment, glancing at each other and chuckling at the younger Jedi's irritation, and you notice idly that some of his blond hair's managed to fall out of place. You reach up to brush it back out of his eyes and bite your lip when they zero in on your own, and you find yourself leaning in further before you can stop yourself only for you to jump apart when the door slides open again. The Chancellor gives you both a polite nod as he takes his leave, completely unaware of what he'd interrupted, and you have to shake your head to clear it once he's out of sight. You can still feel the Jedi's eyes on you when you turn to make your way to the dining hall.

It continues this way, more or less, until lunch, when you decide to kick it up a notch going into the afternoon. You remember what he told you about being able to pick up on your feelings, at least in a general sense, whether he went looking for them or not so you decide to lean into that and let your mind run wild with the things you want to do to him. You're careful not to project any particulars at him this time but you can tell that he definitely takes notice when you start letting your thoughts wander. 

You're still sitting in the dining hall at your separate tables, and you smirk lightly when his eyes snap up, watching them narrow when he realizes what you're doing. You maintain that eye contact shamelessly, pulling your lower lip between your teeth as you try to imagine what's waiting for you underneath those robes. Skywalker's glancing back and forth between you and grinning but Obi-Wan ignores him completely, raising an eyebrow in your direction that you merely shrug at. You see him shift slightly in his seat after a little while of this and decide to lay off a bit--for now, at least. 

Obi-Wan has to consult with the Jedi Council after lunch so you decide to have some mercy on him immediately leading up to that and take a break from your little game. You're sure he's still aware of the arousal boiling low in your belly while you walk him back to his rooms after lunch but you're not actively focusing on it now, letting yourself relax and the Jedi by extension. 

It's during dinner that evening that you really kick it into high gear. 

You're not even fully sure this is going to work, since you've only ever done it once and by accident, but watching Obi-Wan converse with Skywalker at their table, you know you want to try. So you focus your attention on the Jedi, and hone in on the thought of what you think it might be like to kiss him until you see him stiffen and you know he's got it. You keep going, feeding him different images that only grow more explicit as you grow bolder. Sucking and biting bruises into the skin of his throat and chest while you grind down against his cock. Looking right into his pretty blue eyes while you stroke that cock, watching him come apart when you finally take it into your mouth like you've wanted to do practically since you laid eyes on him. Riding him, burying your hands in his hair and swallowing his moans while you bounce in his lap. 

Obi-Wan grits his teeth across the dining hall, gripping the edge of the table he's sitting at tightly and pointedly not looking at you while he tries to regain control of his breathing. Skywalker is staring at you, wide-eyed and slack-jawed in total shock, and you only smirk back at him in response as you let the projection drop. You didn't necessarily want the other Jedi to see those things, truthfully, but you don't know how to control the projection well enough to block him out and he's been enough of a dick about the whole thing this week that you really don't feel all that badly about the fact that he looks like he kind of wants to bleach his brain, now. 

You simply go back to your meal once you've dropped the projection, though you can't help the small grin that stays plastered on your face. The next few minutes pass that way, but then.

But then.

Well, projection goes both ways.

It feels sort of like a tickle, at first, at the edge of your mind--easily ignored. Then it turns into a gentle prodding, and when you look up to confirm your suspicions, his blue eyes are locked firmly on yours and it takes your breath away. He's...being remarkably gentle with you, knowing that no-one's ever been in your head before like this, waiting for you to relax and let him in in a complete roll reversal that shocks you. You barely manage to contain the gasp when you do, because he's suddenly pushing images back at you. Obi-Wan thinks back to how your fingers had felt in his hair this morning, and then reimagines that feeling with you in his lap, tangled in his hair while you kiss him. Then, fuck. With his head between your thighs. He stops and focuses in on this one, imagining as many details as he can manage as he pushes it to you. Your hands pulling on the blond strands while his grip your thighs, holding you open as his tongue laves through the folds of your cunt. 

The moment feels like a tipping point, and both of you know exactly what is going to happen once this meal is over. 

You're so pent up and aroused when it's finally time to leave that you're lightheaded with it but somehow you manage to get to your feet anyway, and thankfully you don't end up having to deal with Skywalker at all because Obi-Wan is out of his seat first this time and meets you halfway. There's something in the air between you, something tense and charged, and you know you need to get him back to his rooms now. He seems to be on the same page because he wastes no time in following you out of the dining hall, and his strides are longer enough than usual that you actually struggle just a little bit to keep up. 

And there's something so…juvenile about this, rushing off and sneaking around, but it's...fun. You feel almost like a teenager again, truthfully, so eager to get him alone somewhere private so you can get your hands on him that you're all but running down the hallway to get there. 

You're on the Jedi the moment the door closes behind you but he's right there with you, pulling you in for a kiss that's all enthusiasm and little finesse but heats your blood anyway. Your fingers tangle in his hair as you tug him closer and he moans with it, his own hands finding your face and framing it gently. You run the tip of your tongue along his lower lip and press forward when his mouth opens into it on a gasp, licking into his mouth until he has to pull away to breathe. 

Maker, he already looks a mess; beautifully flushed with his hair all askew and his pupils blown wide. It makes you want to do, just, unspeakable things, but you know you still have to take your time and ease him into it or this will all be over too fast and you can't have that.  

"Go...go sit on the bed," you murmur, putting a hand on his chest as you step back and take a second to try and get your wits back about you. "Take your boots off. And your cloak."

And, Kriff, he does it immediately, nodding at you with that just fucking wrecked look in his eyes before he turns to do exactly what you told him, laying his cloak over the back of one of the chairs and padding over to the bed where he sits on the edge before leaning over to take his boots off. You watch him the whole time, almost high on the heady feeling that comes with this hyper-competent Jedi Master doing whatever you tell him to. 

You take your time in joining him, partially to tease and partially just because you need those extra few moments. His eyes track every movement as you remove your own cloak, laying it next to his as you toe your shoes off, and you give him a small smile as you make your way over to the bed. Obi-Wan's breath hitches when you climb up onto it and seems to stop altogether when you carefully settle yourself on his lap, his hands fisting at his sides until you reach down to take them gently and guide them to your waist. "You can touch me," you purr, running your nose along the line of his jaw and grinning to yourself when his grip suddenly tightens with it. "It's encouraged, in fact."

He snorts quietly, so breathily that you almost miss it, and starts rubbing circles into your sides with his thumbs. "Noted," he rasps, and you grin wider before you press a kiss just under his jaw. The Jedi shivers with it and the reaction emboldens you so you continue downward, pressing kisses along his skin until you reach the collar of his robe and then you're working at the belt of his robes, eager to get at more of his skin. Obi-Wan seems to still have enough presence of mind to help you, shrugging out of the first two layers once you're able to get them open and discarding them to the side carelessly. You reluctantly have to pull back so you can yank his undershirt over his head but then his whole torso is exposed for your viewing pleasure, so you decide you're alright with the short interruption. 

"See something you like?" Obi-Wan quips breathlessly after a few seconds of you shamelessly studying every line and pane of his chest and you only smirk at him an answer, leaning back in his lap to get a better view and darting your tongue out to wet your lower lip. 

"What are the odds of anyone seeing you without the robes?"

His eyebrows knit together momentarily like he doesn't know what you're asking, but he seems to put the pieces together when you suddenly duck back down and lick a broad stripe along the line of his collarbone. His hips jerk up with a broken moan before he's able to manage an answer, his head tilting back and further exposing his throat. "Un-unlikely," he gasps out, and you're grinning again as you start pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses lower until you find a spot on his pec that pleases you and you stop and suck. The Jedi gasps raggedly, his fingers digging into your waist as he tries to ground himself, but you don't stop until you know a bruise will bloom there. "Something to remember you by?" he hisses, and you chuckle softly as you trace the round little blemish with the tip of your finger. 

"Oh, Baby, I don't think you're going to have any difficulty with that with or without a few little...reminders." 

Obi-Wan moans again, low in his throat, when you start pressing a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down his chest, gasping out and trembling the first time you let him feel teeth. His hips buck again and then it's your turn to gasp when his cock rubs right up against your cunt--already so, so hard. And, Maker, it is not a small bulge. What's he hiding under all of those neutral fabrics? You leave a meandering line of bites and hickeys all the way down his chest, ignoring the way he whines when you shift back off of his lap so you can continue down to his stomach. He leans back on his palms, then, watching you intently with dark eyes that make your pussy clench between your thighs, and his breath catches in his throat when your hands find the ties of his trousers. "What are you--"

"Told you I wanted to suck your cock," you remind him, biting your lip as you start undoing them--slowly enough to give him ample opportunity to stop you if he wants. "That alright with you?"

The Jedi nods mutely, suddenly seeming at a loss for words, and you smirk as you sit back on your knees and start pulling them down his thighs until he springs free, and--

Kriff--how fucking dare the Order deprive the galaxy of this magnificent cock? 

He's not the longest you've ever seen, per se, but he's thick enough that you almost wonder how you're going to take this thing and beautifully flushed, with defined veins that you just know are going to feel incredible inside you. You lean in to lick a stripe right up the underside of it before you can stop yourself and Obi-Wan cries out at the sudden stimulation and shakes, falling backwards onto his back. You moan softly at the response you pull out of him and lean up until you're able to take the head into your mouth, watching as he squeezes his eyes shut and grips the bedspread until his knuckles go white and unravels. "Watch me," you tell him, taking him in your palm and pumping slowly while you wait for him to respond, "Wanna see those pretty blue eyes."

He forces them open just like you told him to, keeping them trained on you as he bites down on his lower lip and takes a shaky breath and you take him into your mouth again, satisfied. He cries out again but a little quieter this time, and you hum around his cock as you start bobbing up and down on it slowly, almost teasingly so, holding his hips down as best you can so you control the pace. You definitely want to feel him come down the back of your throat at some point, but this isn't the time for that. You have every intent of him coming buried deep inside you tonight. 

It becomes something of a game, figuring out exactly what he likes. Hollowing your cheeks to make your mouth tighter around him and moaning until he gasps. Teasing the slit at the top with the very tip of your tongue until you swear you hear him curse. And then you take him to the root.

And, Maker, he swears when he bottoms out and it shouldn't be so insanely hot hearing those words come from this ordinarily so well put-together Jedi but it is. You realize how close he's approaching his end so you reluctantly pull off of his cock, then, ignoring the whine that escapes from high in his throat when you do so. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand while you try and catch your breath, which is not made any easier by the way he's looking at you. You know you must look just as wrecked as he does, now, all flushed skin and swollen lips, but if you didn't know better you would genuinely think the man was about to eat you alive. "I think, my lady," he rasps finally, after several seconds of staring at each other, "that you may be slightly overdressed."

Kriff. You glance down at the tunic and trousers that you are, in fact, still wearing, before looking up to meet his eyes again. You maintain that eye contact as you sit back up on your knees, pulling your lower lip between your teeth as you slowly start undoing the laces holding the top closed. Obi-Wan watches each movement like it's the most mesmerizing thing he's ever seen, pupils blown so wide they've almost completely obscured the blue. He groans quietly when the tunic slips from your shoulders, his tongue darting out to wet his lower lip when your breasts come into full view. "Is that better?"

He shakes his head mutely, swallowing harshly as he seems to try to gather the words. "I want--may I--kriff, lay back. Please." His gaze follows you closely as you slowly lower yourself down onto your elbows, intensely curious what he's about to do. The Jedi takes a deep breath like he's steeling himself and then he's shifting forward until his body stretches over top of yours, kicking his trousers the rest of the way off in the process, and it's your turn to gasp when you feel his lips brush against the underside of your jaw. He's holding himself up enough that you can't necessarily feel him press against you, but Maker, you can certainly feel the heat coming off of him and his warm breath against your throat. "I believe it's my turn," he murmurs by way of explanation, chuckling softly when your next breath comes out ragged.

"You don't--you don't have to do that," you moan, and Stars--you mean it, you do, especially this first time, but you will be just absolutely fucking inconsolable if he changes his mind right now especially after he went and put the fucking image in your head during dinner earlier. 

He doesn't grace that with a verbal response but you're hardly complaining because he starts trailing kisses down the side of your neck instead, and Maker he must have been paying attention when you were doing this to him because you swear he's replicating the technique. "Tell me what you want," he murmurs lowly into the skin of your throat before nipping at it experimentally, listening to you gasp as he keeps talking. "Tell me how to please you, Darling."

His fingers find your nipple before you're able to even begin trying to formulate words and you cry out at the sudden stimulation, arching up into it. "F-Fuck, you're doing a pretty kriffing decent job already," you pant and he chuckles again, running his tongue along your collarbone like you'd done to him and moaning when he gets another ragged gasp for it. "Maker.  U-Use your m-mouth,"

You think for a second that he's going to make some smartass comment about how he already is, but mercifully Obi-Wan seems to know what you're asking him for and decides to be kind about it. He continues exploring your breasts with his hand while he returns his mouth to your throat, licking and sucking his way down the column of it until he reaches your sternum where he stops to suck a bruise into the skin. He gets you so worked up by the time he reaches your breasts that you almost don't realize how close he's gotten until those blue eyes are flickering up to meet yours and he's taking your nipple into the blazing hot cavern of his mouth. You open your mouth on a wordless shout and start to writhe under him but he's right there, both hands coming down to your hips to hold you in place as he laves his tongue around the stiffening peak. Obi-Wan focuses his attention on your breast until you're whimpering and then switches to the other, moaning around your nipple when your fingers tangle in his hair. 

"You like that, don't you?" you purr down at him, watching the Jedi through half-lidded eyes as he moans again in an affirmative. You pull, then, gently--experimentally, seeing if it's something he'll even like, and then he. Fucking bites you. "Fuck, Obi-Wan!" 

"About as much as you liked that," the asshole grins at you impishly as he pulls away from your breast, leaning in to kiss you before you can call him on it. His hands find the top of your trousers once you relax into it, and he leans back to look at you as his fingers dip into the waistband. "May I?"

He starts pulling them down as soon as you nod your consent, sitting back and watching as every inch of skin is revealed until he's removed them completely and he tosses them to the side with the rest of your clothes, leaving you totally bare in front of him. Obi-Wan just...sits there for a moment, taking you in, and you let him, relaxing back against the mattress and smiling up at him. 

"Beautiful," he breathes finally, returning your smile with a small one of his own before he's shifting down, keeping his eyes on yours as his lips brush against your hip. He reaches forward and runs one finger through the lips of your cunt lightly, almost teasingly, watching you gasp and try to grind down into it. "Would you like it if I tasted you here, Darling?" Obi-Wan hums, continuing to press kisses along your hip and the insides of your thighs while he waits for an answer and, Maker, the coarseness of his beard against the sensitive skin there robs you of all conscious thought. All you're able to manage is a nod because you're so strung out and you need him there right now but that seems to be enough for him because he starts leaning in, one hand on each of your thighs as he licks a broad stripe right through your cunt. 

Stars, you can't even form the words right now to talk him through this like he'd asked, but he...doesn't actually really seem to need your help, here. The Jedi focuses in on your clit right away, swirling his tongue around the little bud before he sucks it into the wet heat of his mouth and you nearly sob at how good it feels. "D-Doing so good, Baby," you manage to get out, and the words almost come out as more of a mewl as he hums around your clit, sending jolts right through you. 

You whine in protest when his mouth leaves your clit but his thumb replaces it soon after, rubbing slow circles around it like he's trying to drive you insane on purpose. And then, Maker, his tongue dips into your entrance, licking up inside you while all you can do is sob your pleasure into the air. He keeps going this way for several minutes, steadily working you higher and higher with his tongue buried in your cunt and his thumb strumming your clit until your thighs start to tremble and you feel that coil inside you start to wind tighter. Obi-Wan moans between your legs as when he realizes you're approaching your end and steps up his ministrations, his thumb picking up speed until your back arches underneath him. The orgasm burns its way through you, slow but intense, until you're nearly cross-eyed and delirious with it and he keeps working you through it until you're shaking with overstimulation and pushing his head away. 

The Jedi goes willingly when you push him back into a seated position once you've managed to regain your bearings, and Maker, he's a sight like this; his hair just hopelessly disheveled from your fingers in it and your slick coating his chin and kiss-swollen lips. You take a moment to just look at him, committing this image to memory for all of those nights after he leaves when you know you'll look back and picture this with your hand between your thighs. His hands find your hips as you crawl into his lap and settle there, squeezing gently and letting out a soft moan when you lean in to kiss him. Obi-Wan is the one that licks into your mouth this time, mimicking the way your tongue had tangled with his at the start of this until you're moaning into it. 

He gasps into the kiss when you reach down between you to take his cock in your hand, stroking it slowly while you shift in his lap and Stars, you swear the Jedi underneath you stops breathing entirely when you line him up and the head of his cock presses right up against your entrance. "Maker, please," he begs then on a broken moan, pulling out of the kiss to catch his breath but leaving his forehead pressed up against yours. He opens his eyes to hold your gaze intently as you start to sink down onto him, crying out at the fucking stretch of it. You take your time taking his cock, both for his benefit and your own, and the slow intrusion into your cunt has you shaking before he even bottoms out. 

"Fuck, you feel so f-fucking good," 

And it does. You have to take a minute to adjust once you've taken him to the root before you can move, gripping his shoulders tightly in an attempt to ground yourself, and his hands tighten on your hips in response. The Jedi looks like he might implode if you don't move so you take pity on him, sweeping him into another heated kiss as you roll your hips forward and swallowing his ragged gasp that escapes his throat. You keep the pace slow at first, steady, working yourself open and easing him into the motion and the way your pussy feels wrapped around his cock, and you manage to keep that pace for a few minutes until it becomes too much for both of you.

Obi-Wan's hips buck up at the same time your hips rock forward and you choke on a loud cry, throwing your head back when the head of his cock suddenly hits you right in the sweet spot. He seems to realize that you liked it because he does it again and again, his hands suddenly becoming vices around your hips as he starts thrusting up into you. You keep bouncing in his lap as best you can with his hold on you, meeting him thrust for thrust and Maker, nothing you'd imagined has anything on this. You bury your face in the side of his neck in a pitiful attempt to muffle the sounds that are leaving your throat, sucking and biting at the skin you find there and enjoying the moans you get out of him in return.  

You suddenly find yourself on your back with the Jedi above you, swallowing down the gasp that tears out of you as he claims your mouth in a searing kiss. Obi-Wan starts thrusting again immediately as he lets instinct take over, leaning forward on his elbow next to your head to give him better leverage. You nibble on his lower lip as you bring your legs up around his waist, gasping into his mouth when he fucking growls at the feel of your teeth and knotting your fingers in the strands of his hair again. His free hand comes up to cup the side of your face, holding you in place while he kisses the breath from your lungs. 

You're not going to last much longer, if the way your cunt is already starting to tighten around him is anything to go by. He shifts his hips just slightly, down and to the side, and you almost scream when he manages to find an angle that has the head of his cock hitting your sweet spot straight on at the same time as the warm skin of his torso brushes against your clit on each thrust in. Fuck, fuck, fuck, how did he get the hang of this so fast? He's going to kriffing kill you, if he keeps this up. "Stars, Obi," you sob out, "I'm gonna--"

The Jedi presses one last firm kiss to your mouth before he's pulling back to watch you fall apart, his hand leaving your face and moving down your body until he's stroking your aching clit with his thumb again, rubbing it in fast, small circles like he's learned you like it as he continues fucking into you like it's the last thing he'll ever do. "Right behind you, Darling," he grits out, his voice coming strained and wrecked and you know he means it. It only takes one, two, three more thrusts before you just fucking shatter, crying out into the air and trembling as the orgasm obliterates you. He follows not half a dozen thrusts later, burying his face in your neck and gasping as he fills you with everything he has, his hips still pumping lazily as he comes down. 

Eventually, the Jedi collapses down on the bed next to you, reaching over to brush some of the hair out of your face and giving you a dopey grin that's such a wild juxtaposition from his usual composure and his reputation that it makes you giggle, unable to help yourself. He raises an eyebrow at you playfully but it only makes you laugh harder, shaking your head. "Maker," you breathe, finally, because you can't seem to string together anything else. Obi-Wan chuckles next to you and reaches over to pull you back into his chest, burying his face in your hair while he tries to catch his own breath. "You are...a very quick study. Maker."

You can't see him grin, but you can hear it in his voice when he speaks again. "I'm glad you're pleased," he teases, and you only roll your eyes before letting yourself fully relax against him. Your eyes start to droop but you don't have the energy to fight to keep them open, and you end up falling asleep right there in his arms.

He lets you.

You wake up the next morning almost unbearably warm, and when you go to try and sit up, you find that you can't. You freeze as a half-baked realization suddenly comes over you, hesitantly cracking your eyes open.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Oh, kriff. 

You fell asleep here last night. In the Jedi's bed. With the Jedi. He, it turns out, is the reason that you can't move. Obi-Wan's got both arms wrapped tightly around your middle, holding you against his chest with his legs tangled up with yours, and Maker you would never have pegged this man for a cuddler but you couldn't be more wrong, apparently. It does, however, create quite an interesting problem for you.

This is his last morning here before he leaves to return to Coruscant. He and Skywalker are supposed to leave early, before even breakfast. Skywalker will, doubtlessly, be coming around to see what's what's holding his old master up, and soon--and you are still here. 

Where you are. Definitely. Not supposed to be.

You don't know how much time you have but you know that it isn't much. You have got to get out of here before Obi-Wan's pain in the ass prior padawan shows up, and the Jedi looks so peaceful like this that you kind of wish you could just let him sleep but you really don't want to just sneak out on him after last night. So you sigh, reaching up to shake his shoulder gently. "Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan, we have to get up."

It doesn't take much to wake him, thankfully, and he lets go of you to prop himself up on his elbow as he rubs the sleep out of his eyes. "What's wrong?" he asks, his voice still hoarse from sleep as he peers down at you, not quite as surprised to see you there as you'd have maybe expected him to be. 

You don't even get a chance to answer him because there's suddenly a knock on the door, and both of your eyes widen at it. Skywalker. "Obi-Wan?"

Fuck, fuck, fuck, where the fuck are your clothes? You're out of the bed before Obi-Wan even has a chance to stop you, frantically trying to find your clothes and put them on. You toss his trousers at his chest when you come across them and that seems to be what finally spurs him into motion, standing up so he can get them on as he calls back to the other Jedi. "What is it, Anakin?"

There's a moment of confused silence, then: "Cody's landing the transport now."

Obi-Wan opens his mouth like he's about to tell his old padawan that he'll be out momentarily, but doesn't get a chance to get the actual words out before you both hear the hiss of the door starting to slide open. Thank the Maker, you just manage to get your tunic back on before Skywalker comes into sight, and you do your best to try to look fucking normal as his eyes flicker between you but your heart fucking stops when you glance to the left of you and realize that Obi-Wan still isn't wearing a fucking shirt. His entire chest is exposed, which means that all of the marks you left scattered across it are also exposed. Fuck, fuck, fuck--

"I'll just. I'll just see you on the transport."

Skywalker is gone before either of you can react, the door sliding shut behind him. Your next breath leaves your lungs with enough force that it's almost a wheeze, and you have to bend over and put your hands on your knees for a second while you try to process what the fuck just happened. Obi-Wan blinks next to you, looking directly ahead for a second or two more before he suddenly starts chuckling, and you stare at him incredulously. "I'm sorry," he says finally, "That was just…"

You're laughing too, then, shaking your head as you step back over to him, ducking down to grab his shirt from where you can see it on the floor. You place the fabric in his hands and lean up on your toes to press a light kiss to his cheek, giving him a small smile. "Until next time, Master Kenobi?"

He gives you a small smile in return, and surprises you a little bit when he leans in himself and presses a soft kiss to your lips. "Until next time."

Mercifully, no-one questions him when Obi-Wan finally makes it to the transport. He intentionally doesn't look at Anakin even though he can feel the other man's eyes on him as he finds his seat and sits down, straightening his robes. He finds it difficult to keep the smile completely off his face so he just ducks his head instead in the guise of settling in for the flight and studiously ignores the way Anakin is still staring at him. 

"How was your trip, General?" Cody asks, leaning around in the pilot's seat to look back at him once they've left the planet's atmosphere. Obi-Wan opens his mouth to answer but Anakin's there first, suddenly grinning ear-to-ear in a way that makes him distinctly uncomfortable. 

"Oh, the General had a wonderful time." the younger man drawls, looking him right in the eyes as he does, and Obi-Wan wonders not for the first time if Qui-Gon died and left Anakin in his care as some inhumane form of punishment. "Made significant strides with relations and learned a lot, I'm sure."

"Oh, well, that's good, Sir." Cody responds, and Obi-Wan really dearly hopes he's as unaware of the insinuation as he sounds. Cody really does not need to know these things. Anakin does not need to know these things. "I'm glad your mission was productive."

Anakin opens his mouth like he's going to say something else but closes it abruptly and grins instead when Obi-Wan glares at him and shakes his head slowly in warning. "Thank you, Cody." Obi-Wan says instead, leaning back in his seat and letting his eyes close as he tries to relax. Maker, he can still feel the effects of the night before, his muscles are more sore than he would have expected and he finds that he's very aware of the bruises you'd left behind and it's...strangely pleasant. 

He's not allowed to have emotional attachments, but. He kind of does hope that he'll see you again one day anyway. Until next time, Master Kenobi. 

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Never have regrets; Joe Mazzello x reader

*Author’s note*

Hey guys well here I have another Secret Santa gift. As a part of the Get Down Give Joy giveaway I would like to present @stewielover95​ with your fic. Yes dear I am your secret Santa. I really hope you like this fic in the end, I struggled with it at first but then I finally had a good direction to go with it. Anyways I also want to thank @warriorteam1924​ and @thosequeenboys​ for creating this splendid give away, after the LONG AND HELLISH year that 2020 has given us, it was very sweet of them to create this little give away to brighten up our holiday spirit (esp. since we can’t really see our families this year. Even if you can, PLEASE BE SAFE!!!). Now I’ll stop typing so that you all can start reading, hope everyone enjoys this lovely little fic with our beloved dino boy Joey Mazzello :) 

Warnings: Joe’s chaotic child behavior (MAY CAUSE CAVITIES), fluff, parental angst, parent death, mentions of suicide, a small very subtle HINT of COVID (word isn’t mentioned but still think I should give warning), 

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@psychosupernatural​

@ixchel-9275​

@simonedk​

@queensdivas​

@queen-paladin​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@queendeakyy​

@geek-and-proud​

@wormzteef​

___________________________________________________________

I was peacefully sleeping.  After working long hours at my job I wanted nothing more than to just stay in bed all day and sleep until lunchtime.

“Hey baby~” Joey’s voice cooed in my ear.  I felt him kiss my cheek and I let out a tired groan. “Good morning.”

“Joey!” I whined. “Go back to sleep.”

“No. The sun’s awake, so I’m awake. Which means we have to snuggle and make out.” I cracked an eye open and looked up at him.  His auburn hair all messed up from his constant tossing and turning that he does in his sleep.

“We’ll make out when the rooster crows.”

“But babe there aren’t any roosters in New York.”

“Exactly.” He faux a gasp as he collapsed back on the bed.

“How could you? And I thought you loved me?! I knew it. You’re only in it for the money! Or the childhood fame crush! Or was it for Ben? It was for Ben wasn’t it! I knew you two were having an affair behind my back!” god he was such a drama queen.  But he was my drama queen.

“Yes we’ve been sneaking in text messages behind your back.” I teased him.

“Okay that’s it!” I then felt him wriggle himself under the covers and I felt myself go from my stomach to my back in a split second.

“Joseph Francis Mazzello III! What the f—NO AHHH NO DOHOHOHN’T! DON’T TICKLE ME!!” I thrashed around trying to get him off of me but he had me pinned right down to the bed.

“You gonna get up now?” I heard him say from under the covers.

“JOHOHOHOE!!!” I screamed out in laughter. “Plehehehehease!”

“No not until you either say you’re gonna wake up. Or until I hear an apology.” Then I heard the dreaded sound and feeling of his deadly raspberries being blown on my stomach, just an inch over my bellybutton.  And it was even worse now that he was growing out his beard.

“Okay! OK! OK! OK! OKAY STOP! I surrender! I surrender!” his head soon peaked out from the covers as his face was just a few inches away from mine.  His shit-eating grin spread across his face, while his eyes twinkled with that same mischievous spark that made me fall in love with him. “I hate you.” I whined.

“Aww and I hate you too.” He moved closer to my lips and kissed me. “I hate you—so much.” His voice lowered down as he deepened the kiss. I felt his hands cup the sides of my face while my arms wrapped around him.

My right-hand stroking through his already messy hair while my left wrapped around his back.  After what felt like an eternal make out session, we finally separated from each other and stared at one another.

“Alright you have my attention Joey.”

“Yay!” he cheered softly. “But in all seriousness, we need to get up. We promised my mom that we’d help with the Christmas decorations.”

“Okay. Now get off me yah goober so that we can help her.” He got off of me and I sat up but I was quickly pulled back onto the bed, laying against Joe’s chest.  Him grinning smugly at me as he kissed me on the lips.

“Sorry, had to get my morning kiss from you.”

“And the morning make out session wasn’t enough for you?”

“Morning make outs and morning kisses are two completely different things.” He told me in that philosophical tone of his.  You know the one you use to make yourself sound smarter.

“Ahh I see. Well thank you Professor Mazzello on explaining the differences between the two.”

“That’s Dr. Mazzello to you. But you are most welcome. Anything for my best student.” I pecked his nose and got back up but found myself being pulled back again towards Joe.

“Joey!”

“Sorry, sorry I couldn’t resist. Okay for real this time, go on. I’m right behind you.”

“Why don’t you go first and I’ll be right behind you?” I suggested.  He sighed and pulled the covers off of us and went to sit up but this time I grabbed his hand and pulled him back onto the bed.  I pecked his lips before taking off out of the room.

We both raced down the stairs and towards the living room when I felt Joey catch me in his arms, pick me up and spin me around.  Laughing manically while he did it.  I myself couldn’t help but giggle when a female voice said.

“Ah-uh Joseph! No horse playing in the house.”

“Sorry mom.” He said as he sat me down.

“Sorry about that mama.” I said.

You see, Joe and I had been dating for practically ten years. We actually met through our good friend Rami way back when we were all on the Pacific.  I was part of the costume department, and I was Rami’s assistant costumer.  So whenever he got into Snafu’s character of course he tried to flirt with me and I’d play along off of his character telling him he didn’t have a chance.

Between takes the three of us became thick as thieves and kept in contact.  Then one day when we were all on break, Rami set Joe and I up to meet at the beach so that the two of us could talk to each other.  At the time of filming, Joe and I had been really shy around each other and we both liked each other (of course neither of us had the guts to say it to the other).

But after spending our break at the beach together that’s when Joe made the first I love you confession and—the rest is history as they say. When the three of us reunited for Bohemian Rhapsody and got to know Ben, Lucy, Allen, and Gwilym, our little family had now grown bigger.  And it was after filming a concert scene in Japan (with some help from the actual Queen band themselves) that Joe (yes still dressed as early 70’s John Deacon) proposed to me.

So for 2 years he and I had been married.  Of course like all couples we have our fights and disagreements but in the end we patch through them and not let it run our lives. Oh and I almost forgot, since I had been so close with the Mazzello family throughout our entire relationship, I had the privilege to call Joe’s parents, my parents even before we got married.

“I swear you both remind me of—” that’s when mom trailed off sadly as she looked down.  Joe and I grew sad too as we thought about his dad.

“We miss him too mom. God I—I can’t believe this will be our 3rd Christmas without him.” Joe said as he walked towards his mom and gave him a hug.

“As much as I wish he could be here with us, he wouldn’t want us to be sad on his favorite holiday.” She told us.  She took a deep breath in and cleaned her eyes of her hidden tears. “There now, I’ve got breakfast all ready for you two. Once you’re done, Joseph, I want you to bring in the Christmas boxes from the garage and set them in the living room. (Y/n), you and I will get the Christmas decorations from the attic.”

“Ma’am yes ma’am!” We both saluted.  We went to the kitchen and ate our breakfast.  After that we went to our stations and helped Mama Mazzello with the Christmas decorating.

It took almost all day but we came to a pretty good stopping place today decorating wise.  We put up some of the minor Christmas displays up all over the house (like small animal plushies, Christmas pictures of the Mazzello family throughout the years, etc.) Joe managed to get all the outdoor decorations set up and displayed, and mama and I set up the Christmas placemats on the tables.

It was now a bit past 5pm and it was pitch black outside. Joey and I were cuddled together on the sofa and I looked out the window and shook my head.

“I still can’t get over the fact that it gets dark at freakin 4o’clock now.”

“I know it’s crazy. My mom’s never liked it, have yah mom?”

“Oh it messes up my schedule everytime!” Mom cried out from the kitchen as she was prepping dinner.  “Hey (Y/n) are your mom and Derek still coming to the party?”

“Yeah. They said they’d be taking the train from Virginia instead of the plane. I think they said they’d be coming up sometime next Wednesday. I’ll call them later tonight to confirm that.”

“Alright well I’ll get the guest room set up for them.”

“You know you don’t need to do that.”

“Nonsense you guys are family. And it’ll be a lot safer here at the house than taking a hotel room with everything that’s going on.” She said.

“Yeah that is true. Thanks mama.”

“Okay well come and make a plate you two, dinner’s ready.” We stood up and got our dinner (steak and potatoes) and ate at the dinner table while playing on Freeform’s 25 days of Christmas was the Santa Clause.

Weeks later and it was the day before the Mazzello Christmas party and arriving in less than an hour was my mom and Derek.  If your curious as to why I call my dad Derek, well he’s not really my dad. He’s my stepdad but I really do care for him.

He and my mom met up shortly after I graduated from high school after my parents divorced.  My real dad and I…well—we don’t talk at all.  Our relationship is very strained so why don’t we just leave it at that?  But when my mom met Derek, he’s been the father I wished I had.

He’s loving, supportive, kind, funny, and he’s always there whenever my mom or I needed him.  He was there for me when Joe and I were going through a bad patch in our relationship, he was there for all my birthdays and movie premieres, and he was even the one to walk me down the aisle at mine and Joe’s wedding.

I was doing the last final touches of cleaning up the house for my mom and Derek’s arrival, as well as Joe’s siblings, nieces, and nephews. I heard the door open and a stampede of footsteps soon came running towards me.

“Auntie (Y/n)! Auntie (Y/n)!” I was soon glomped by 4 little nuggets.

“Hey there kiddies. Oh I’ve missed you four soo much! How have you all been?”

“I lost another tooth see?” Joe’s niece Samantha said opening her mouth to show me her missing tooth.

“I learned how to ride my bike!” his nephew Matthew aka Matty exclaimed.

“Oh big boy now huh? Bet you were better than your uncle Joey was.”

“I heard that!” Joe called out.  He along with this brother and sister came through the living room and I hugged my brother and sister in laws.

“Hey guys Merry Christmas.” I greeted them.

“Merry Christmas (Y/n).” his sister Mary said as she and I hugged each other first.

“Even though Christmas isn’t until tomorrow.” His brother John said.

“Okay Scrooge. Get over here John.” He gave me a kiss to my cheek and the two of us embraced each other. “Joe’s told me about your little league’s championship win. That’s amazing.”

“Yeah those kids did me proud.”

“You know if you could convince Joe and (Y/n) to hurry up with getting kids of their own, they might give you some new champions.” A female voice soon spoke up.  Soon coming around the corner of the house along with Mama was my own mom as well as Derek.

“Mom!” I whined.

“Now, now (m/n) don’t go pressuring her just yet. There’s still plenty of time for her and Joe to have kids. Say when their 50.” I chuckled and shook my head at Derek’s statement.  I walked up to them and first hugged my mom.

“Did you guys have a safe train ride?” I asked.

“It went well. Much less crowded than I expected.”

“That’s cause you’ve always done the Metro mom. Metro and train are two totally different things.” I told her.  I turned to Derek and he said with a smile as he extended his arms out.

“Come here baby girl.” I smiled and went into his arms and the two of us hugged each other. “Don’t just wait till the holidays to come see us. How will your mother and I survive?”

“I’m sorry Derek, work’s just been crazy lately. Directors have been wanting me to do costume designing and fittings for them left and right.” I said as we released each other from the hug.

“And why wouldn’t they? You’re incredibly talented.” Joe said as he came up and quickly pecked my cheek.

“He’s right. I remember you staying up way past your curfew designing costumes for your tech theatre class back in high school.” Derek continued. “And all those times of drawing on napkins and the corners of the morning paper. I swear you doodled sketches like it was no one’s business.”

“You stayed up pass curfew?” my mother snapped.

“Thanks a lot Derek.” I muttered angrily.

“Hey had to come out sometime right?” I playfully nudged him and said to my mom.

“That’s in the past mom. No need to talk about it now.”

“Oh you can be sure we’ll discuss that later little missy.” She lectured as she waved her finger at me.

“Alright, now the rooms have all been prepared for you all in advance. Mary, John you’ll take your old rooms. (M/n) and Derek the guest room has been made up for you all and of course the kids get the cloud bedroom.” The kids all cheered. “Now everyone drop your bags off in your designated rooms and we can all gather around the table for some dinner.”

I helped mom with her bags and guided her and Derek to the guest room while Joe went to help his mom set up the table for dinner.

“So when can we expect future grandbabies from you and Joe (n/n)?” my mom asked.

“If you keep pestering me about that then you won’t have any grandbabies.” I teased her as we came to the room.  “Here we are, I cleaned it up myself. Hope you guys will be comfortable.”

“It’s great (y/n). Thank you.” Derek assured me.

“Tell Virginia we’ll be down in a moment once we’re finished unpacking.” My mom said.  I nodded then left the two of them to unpack their stuff.

As I came down the stairs, I already saw Joe being attacked by all his nieces and nephews.  The kids were climbing all over him like a tree, all of them talking over the other and squealing like little piglets.  

God seeing Joe with those kids it—really did make me want to have kids with him.  He’s already a fun uncle, I’m positive he’d make a great dad.  Probably spoil our kids to no end but—he could be the discipliner if he needed to.

“Ow! Who’s on the head?!” Joe exclaimed.  I shook my head at his nephew Matty who had half of his body on top of Joe’s head.

“Alright you kids break it up.” I told the kids as I grabbed Matty and held him in my arms.

“Auntie (Y/n), will you sing for us tomorrow at the party like you did last year?” He asked me.

“You bet she’ll sing for you kids. And hey how about we do one better. How would you kids like it if your auntie (Y/n) and I performed together?” Joe asked joyously.  But the kids all let out a groan.

“No uncle Joey you can’t sing!” complained Sammy.

“Excuse me?!” Joe gawked offensively.

“Yeah uncle Joey, you don’t have that good of a singing voice.” Matty agreed.

“And too loud sometimes.” His other niece Katie or as I like to call her Kitty-cat said.

“My own kin turned against me. That’s it you three are in BIG trouble. C’mere!” he went to grab his nieces who quickly ran off his lap and hid behind me.

“Save us auntie (Y/n)!” the girls chorused out.  I shielded the three of them and stood before Joe as his face got right up close to mine.

“You know we could team up and catch them together.”

“I don’t betray kids Joe.”

“So—they’ve turned you too. Fine. I’ll take you down first.” Suddenly he picked me up over his shoulder and proceeded to spin me around and around like a helicopter.

“JOEY!!” I exclaimed through my laughter.

“Then surrender the kids to me or the spinning continues.” He threatened.

“Well then this game’s gonna have to be put on hold cause it’s time for dinner.” Joe’s mom spoke up.  The kids all raced to the dinner table while Joe put me back down. I stumbled a little but he caught me and asked.

“You okay?”

“I’ll live. Just next time don’t spin me around so fast.” I kissed the corner of his lips before heading towards the sinner table with Joe right behind me.  Soon enough we all gathered around and had ourselves a pre-Christmas family dinner.

Soon it finally arrived.  The most wonderful time of the year, Christmas eve.  All the gifts were now placed under the tree wrapped up in various Christmas themed wrappings or color schemes of silver, red, gold, and green. Now it was really beginning to look like Christmas.

“Alright guys, as per tradition we shall start off with (Y/n);s annual Christmas performance.” Mama Mazzello said.  I stood up from Joe’s lap as everyone applauded.

Derek at the speakers ready for my signal for him to turn the first song on.  I nodded and he clicked the play button and soon my first song (in fact the very first song I ever sang back when I was a teen for my family) Faith Hill’s “Where are you Christmas”.

It’s also my mom’s favorite song and every year since I sang it back when it came out in 2000 she’s wanted me to sing it just for her. As I sang I could see the tears forming in my mom’s eyes as a wide smile spread across her face and she lip synched the words.  The kids all stared at me in awe, and my beloved Joe Mazzello he was entranced.

He’s always teased me of how I should be a singer instead of a costume designer and back when we were both involved with Bohemian Rhapsody he’s sworn that he’d get me up on stage with Queen and Adam Lambert to sing with them. Thankfully that hasn’t happened (and I hope it continues that way) so Joe’s just had be do private concerts for him.

After the song was done they all clapped as I told Derek my next song and helped him search the right version of the song.

“This one right here?” he asked to confirm.

“Yep that’s the one.” I told him.  I turned back towards the family and now playing on the speakers was Carrie Underwood’s “Do you hear what I hear?” I fingered the piano chords against my thigh, pretending that I was actually playing the keys (even though I can’t play to save my ass, even with Rami’s help).

That song required a lot of breath work and correct timing but I managed to pull it off and once the song concluded everyone clapped again. This time for the final song, I took out two chairs and set them before everyone.

Joe took this as his cue to come up and help me set up the finale song, especially since he was going to be joining me on it this year. We had been practicing this since November, he wrote the script and everything and we rehearsed it and rehearsed it and rehearsed it.

“For this final song I first want to thank my director and partner Joe Mazzello for writing the script for this little skit you will see.” Joe nodded as he came in with two cups of hot chocolate (his being made of almond milk of course).  The two of us sat side by side and Joe clapped his hands together and said.

“And…..action!” I took a sip of my hot chocolate and said my first line.

“I still can’t believe you can finally drink hot chocolate.”

“Hey almond milk saves lives.” He said his line.

“Personally, I’d never drink that stuff but so long as it helps you. I’m glad I could share this tradition with you.”

“Me too babe.” My phone then dinged and I said.

“Oh my god!”

“What? What is it babe?”

“It’s already pass midnight. My mother’s gonna kill me!”

“Whoa, whoa wait a minute. Don’t tell me you’re going out there!” he said as we both stood up and he gestured toward the window.

“I have to Joey. Even if it’s 20ft of snow out there, it’s nothing compared to the wrath of a mother who doesn’t like their baby staying out past curfew.” I broke the 4th wall and turned to my mom who crossed her arms and looked at me with a playful scowl.

“C’mon just give her a call and explain it to her. It’s way too cold out there for you. I won’t let you freeze out there.” Derek then turned on the song “Baby it’s cold outside” the Seth McFarlane and Sara Bareilles version.

The two of us walking in circles of each other with me trying to head out of the living room and Joe coming around in front of me singing Seth’s part while I sang Sara’s.

Every now and then he’d take my hands in his and giving them a kiss.  Or he’d brush a strand of hair out from my face, gingerly brushing my cheek with the back of his finger.  But just as we got to the end of the first verse, there was a knock at the door.

Joe and I stopped singing as Derek cut off the music and we all turned our attention to the door.

“Mom is—anyone else coming?” asked Mary.

“No.” she simply stated.  Four more knocks rang through the house.  The kids were started to get frightened as they ran up to their parents.

“I’ll find out who it is.” Said Mary’s husband Dylan.

“No, no, no. You just stay with your kids Dylan. I’ll go see who it is.” Derek offered as he left the living room.  After about a minute my mom followed behind him and the next thing I heard was my mom saying.

“What are you doing here!?” it—it couldn’t be.  I raced out of the living room as Joe tried to reach out for me and stop me but he was too late.  I came around and walked down the small hallway staircase that led to the front door and there at the door was someone I hoped I’d never see again.

For there standing at the door in his famed fedora hat was my dad.

He looked older than the last time I saw him, his hair going grey from the stress and wrinkles forming at the end of his eyes.

“I know I don’t have a right to be here, but……”

“That’s right you don’t!” I snapped.  My mom and Derek looked up at me.

“(Y/n) go back upstairs. Derek and I can handle this.” My mom told me.

“(Y/n)?” my dad asked in awe.  I glared at him and crossed my arms over my chest. “Wow look—look at you. You’re……practically grown up.”

“Yeah.” I snapped shortly. “You’d know if you’d pay attention instead of just criticizing me all the time.”

“I know. I……that’s actually why I came here.”

“How did you even know we’d be here (F/n)?” my mom asked.

“Well as part of the NYPD I’ve been—keeping tabs on our daughter. And found out who she married and where she was currently living at.”

“You’ve been spying on me!? Great even when you’re no longer apart of this family you still have to spy on everything I do!” I snapped. “So have you come to complain about my husband now? How I should’ve married a doctor or a cop? How I’ve thrown my life away by marrying an actor?”

“No.” he said. “I haven’t come to do anything like that. I just…..”

“No you know what? Let me start off since you never listened to me then, but you’ll hear me now!”

I walked down the steps and even though my mother tried to get me to go back upstairs, I got out of her arms and got right in my dad’s face and sneered at him.

“For years I’ve tried to be the perfect daughter you said you wanted! And for my childhood I tried to follow in your footsteps. But as I became a preteen you began to nitpick at everything! The color of my hair, what type of clothes I should wear, how I should wear my makeup, you even didn’t like the fact that I wanted to get my ears pierced! Said it was for criminals and goth kids to get their bodies pierced. You called me a delinquent!”

“I-I-I know I did. But now I’m……”

“It doesn’t matter what you have or want to say. The verbal abuse you gave me throughout my life has been nothing but a stab at my self-esteem. I tried to commit suicide by the time I was 16 because of you! You did that!”

“I’m sorry (Y/n).”

“Where was the sorry back then? Where was it? All you told me after I got back from the hospital was that it was my fault for disobeying you.” I once again got in his face and sneered lowly, “So whatever you have to say forget it.”

I turned around and walked up the steps.  As I got halfway up my dad tried to say to me.

“(Y/n) please. I’m trying to make amends for that now. I know I’ve done and said awful things to you in the past. And looking back on it, it’s made me feel absolutely disgusted with myself. I’m your father, please forgive me.  It’s Christmas time.” I lowered my head before turning my head towards him.

“Derek’s my father. Now get the fuck out of my life.” I said lowly to him while I glared at him.  I ran back up the stairs and headed right towards Joe’s room.  I slammed the door and hid myself in the corner of his room, curled myself up into a tight ball, and tried to keep my tears at bay but every now and then a tear fell from the corner of my eye.

I heard the door open and softly shut.  The bed softly dipped down; and the familiar smell of Joe’s cologne hung in the air.

“Please Joe I—I’m not in the mood.”

“I know. That’s not why I came up here though.” I felt him rub my back in soothing circles. “Baby girl, I—I think you should really talk to your dad.” I raised my head up at him, my jaw dropped in shock and my eyes bug-eyed.

“You can’t be serious.”

“C’mon babe it’s Christmas…..”

“So?! I already spoke my mind to him!”

“No. You ranted in anger. You’re not supposed to be angry or any other negative emotion during Christmas.”

“Joe you—” I took a sharp breath in. “I’ve told you what he’s done to me. The neglect and verbal abuse he gave me. How am I supposed to suddenly let it go and forgive him!?”

“I know it’s not easy…..”

“I don’t believe this….you’re actually taking his side!!” I snapped as I backed away from him.

“I’m not! All I’m saying that is if you continue to hate him for the rest of your life, you’ll never be truly happy. Babe please I’m just thinking about what’s best for you.”

Oh my god—it couldn’t be.  He wouldn’t…….

“You called him.”

“What? No!?”

“No. No, no, no, no, no, no, not-it-it-it all makes sense. How else could he pick up this address? That whole detective bullshit you reached out to him and called him up didn’t you!?”

“(Y/n) I—”

“TELL ME THE TRUTH!!” I screamed at him.  Silence rang out through Joe’s childhood room as he and I stared eye to eye with each other.  Not a single one of us flinching or breaking eye contact.

“Even if it was me, as I told you I was only trying to help.”

“How!?” I snapped. “Be thankful your dad died a good man!” At the mention of his dad, Joe’s face grew hard and angry.

“I know. I was lucky. My dad was a kind man, and generous and forgiving. But get this (Y/n), I won’t get to experience that type of father love ever again! And I would give anything to have him back here! To have gotten to know you as my wife instead of my girlfriend! To one day see our children! So be thankful that your father is still alive and healthy!” his voice quivered and choked as his voice got steadily louder.

“Joe, I—”

“All I wanted was for you to make amends with your dad because you never know which day will be your last!” he stormed out of the room and slammed the door shut.

Goddamnit! Now I feel like shit.  I sighed heavily and fell down onto the bed and felt the tears stream down my face.

After calming myself down and cleaning myself up, I walked downstairs and there was my mom, Derek, Joe’s mom, and siblings.  The kids weren’t there so I assume Mary and John sent them to bed after what had happened.

“If you’re wondering where Joe is he left. Didn’t say where he went he just—took his coat, hat and scarf and just left.” John said.

“I wasn’t going to ask that.” I walked over to my mom and said. “Where’s (f/n)?”

“What?”

“Please mom I—just tell me where he went.” I said urgently.

“He told me he was staying at the Milton motel just 15min. away from here.” I raced and grabbed my winter gear and keys.  My mom calling out to me but I didn’t hear her as I got on my bike and took off down the streets.

When I arrived at the Milton, I went up to the front desk and asked to see a (F/n) (l/n), I told the concierge that I was someone close to him. She called him up and told me he’d be down in a minute.

I sat down in the lobby and waited for him to come down.  I heard the elevator ding and soon coming out of it was (F/n).  He turned to his left and when he saw me, his eyes widened.

“(Y/n)?” I stood up.  He slowly walked towards me. “But I thought—”

“First I want to say this before I say something else. You suddenly showing up the way you did was uncalled for. You can’t expect an apology after the years of neglect and verbal abuse you gave me. Even from the smallest little thing about me that I wanted to change, you insulted me to no ends.” I took a deep breath. “And as much as I want to never want anything to do with you again—someone once told me that if I continue to hate you for the rest of my life, I’ll never be truly happy.”

“I’ve looked back on my actions and every day I hate myself for what I’ve done to you. So—will you give me another chance?”

“I won’t forgive you right away and start calling you dad.”

“I’ll take what I can get. Thank you (Y/n).” he extended his hand out for me to take.  For the first time in years I took my dad’s hand and we shook on it.  “Do you want to spend Christmas day with us tomorrow?”

“I’d like that very much. Plus I’d—I’d like to get to know the man that stole your heart.” My eyes widened.

“Joe! Shit I almost forgot! Ohh but where could he be? He could be anywhere!”

“Just a minute (Y/n), let me make a call.” He took out his phone and made a call. “Hey Jeremy, it’s me. Yeah hey listen I know it’s the holidays but I need your tracking skills.” I saw him nod and hum in agreement, “Okay just a second,” he placed the phone down against his shoulder and asked me, “Do you have his number?”

I told him Joe’s number and he relayed that to his friend. Wow I guess he really is a police officer.

“Really? Great. Thanks Jeremy. Yes you have a Merry Christmas too. See you after the New Year. Bye.” He hung up his phone and said. “His cell was last pinged at the Rockefeller Center.” I thanked him and raced out of the motel and back to my bike.  I revved it up and raced on down to Rockefeller Center.

The monument around Christmas time.  I stood before the giant, beautiful tree and raced towards it on foot.  I looked around for Joe till I finally found him on the other side of the two angel statues playing their horns.

“Joe!?” he turned around and looked at me before glaring softly and turned back around.  I raced towards him but he still refused to look at me.  “Joey……I—I talked to him. My dad. And—it’s gonna take some time but I…..I told him I’d give him another chance.” He didn’t respond back, hell he still didn’t even look at me. “I was way out of line. I shouldn’t have accused you like that. I mean, even if you did call him I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. I was angry and—those feelings that my dad gave me when I was a kid I’ve tried to bury them for years. And seeing him for the first time in forever it—made me feel like that extremely insecure girl I once was. And I didn’t want you to see me like that.”

Again, he remained silent and stoic.

“And I shouldn’t have mentioned your dad. He wouldn’t have wanted us to fight, especially on his favorite holiday. I’m sorry Joe.” Nothing. Not even a smug Deacy grin. “Joey?” why wasn’t he answering me?

I slowly approached him and everytime I tried to lean forward to look at him, he just turned his head further away from me.

“Joe please? What more do you want me to say? You were right and I was wrong? That Ben should really be with you instead of Gwil? What can I say that will help you say something to me?” he crossed his arms over his chest and huffed at me.

I sighed sadly and looked up at him.  Okay, I get it.  Guess he’s really upset with me and I could possibly expect him to go stay with Rami and Lucy for the next month or so.

“Alright. I get it. You don’t want anything to do with me anymore. I deserve it. I was a real bitch to you. But I just want you to know that I’ll always love you, and that I hope you find the right girl for you. Even if it’s not me.” I turned and walked away from him when I suddenly felt two arms wrap around my waist and pull me up against a comfy coated chest.

“And just what makes you think that I would want anyone else?”

“What?” he gave me a cheeky grin. “Oh you son of a—” I proceeded to hit him in his chest screaming profanities at him.  All the while he kept laughing and holding my arms back.  He then proceeded to peck all over my face with kisses.

Soon my anger turned to laughter as I calmed down and surrendered to his kisses.

“You’re a real jerk sometimes you know that.”

“But you married me in the end right?” I nodded as he once again wrapped his arms around me.  “So you really talked to your dad? Not just yelled at him.”

“Yes. I—even invited him for Christmas lunch tomorrow.”

“Well look at you making progress!” he exclaimed proudly before taking off my beanie and ruffled my hair.  I exclaimed and tried to shoo his hand away from my head.  He chuckled then readjusted my hair to some level of normalcy.  “In all seriousness babe, I’m glad you took my advice.”

“Yeah. I mean like you said, I’ll never truly be happy till I let go of my anger. And I haven’t realized til now just how much that anger has been weighing me down.”

“I could see it every time your dad was even mentioned. I hate seeing you be that angry.” he embraced me from behind, nuzzling his nose into my hair.

“I’m—also sorry about….you know what I said about your dad.” He placed my head over his chest.

“I forgive you. We were both angry and said the first thing that came to mind.”

“But I shouldn’t have spoken ill about your dad. He really was a sweet guy.”

“That he was.” He smiled the smile he inherited from both his parents.

“Like father like son.” I giggled.  He chuckled and took my hand then as we walked back to my bike, we both looked up and saw that snow was starting to fall.

“Well, looks like we’re getting a White Christmas after all.” He said.

“Indeed, just prepare for the avalanche of feet from the munchkin army come morning.”

“Don’t I know it. But you’re also forgetting one other kid.” He looked at me confused. “You yah big man child!”

“Hey you’re just as crazy about snow as I am!” we then proceeded to nag at each other over who was a bigger fan of the snow, even going as far as to see who would crack first tomorrow morning once we’d see the snow on the ground.

[uh-ohspaghettio]

Wang Fire the Date Crasher

Description: it’s Katara and Aang’s first date and what kind of overly protective brother would Sokka be if he didn’t spy just a little

Ao3 link

“I thought this was a date” Suki pouted while gazing at her boyfriend as he continued to adjust how he sat in order to see something behind her.  He looked like an overgrown child trying to get a view at the circus.

“We are on a date” Sokka said absentmindedly while still distracted with whatever was behind her.

 “Well explain these” Suki argued as she reached across the table to tug at the fake beard Sokka was wearing and with the other hand tugged at the long black wig sitting atop her head. They had actually seen the wig in the market along with other Mai related memorabilia- ever since Zuko was crowned as firelord not only has his status rocketed but Mai’s had too along with her style. Many young fire nation girls sought out to copy Mai’s signature hairstyle.

Sokka sat down properly and swatted away his girlfriend’s.“Hey hey be careful this beard has been through many adventures I don’t want it to be ruined” The warrior complained as he readjusted it. He then paused and struggled to find an actual answer to his question while Suki stared at him quizzically. “ uhhhh….roleplay??” Sokka finally answered almost as a question. The smart kyoshi warrior of course didn’t buy it for a second and decided to turn around and finally sneak a peek at what Sokka was struggling to look at earlier,

As she turned she immediately recognized the waterbender and the tattooed avatar sitting across from each other. Suki snapped back around to Sokka who donned an apologetic face and smacked him in the arm.

“Sokka! You just did this so you could spy on their first date!” she  yelled at him in a hushed tone so as not to create a scene in the public restaurant. She couldn’t believe he would do this, well actually she could, but she skipped out on training today for this so Suki felt justified in her reaction.

The water tribe boy resisted the urge to rub at the arm that got affiliated. His girlfriend was by no means weak but he wasn’t about to show how much it actually hurt.

“I-no-I just-I didn’t” he blubbered while trying to scramble for an answer but realized it was pointless “ fine you caught me” he resigned after a few moments.

“Why?! I thought you loved Aang, and don’t you trust your sister?!” she questioned him.

“I do! It’s just she’s my little sister and I don’t know I just want to be there for her incase something bad happens” he explained with a sigh, his secret plans were revealed. “Even  if it does give me the oogies” he adds as he sees the air nomad across the room holding his little sister’s hand while they made goo goo eyes at one another.

Suki was still mad but she let out a little smile from the heartwarming sentiment. “As sweet as that is, you know better than anyone else that Katara can hold her own. You really have nothing to worry about, let’s just have a nice evening together, without you being all overprotective. Sokka reluctantly agreed. Suki was right, as always, he had nothing to worry about.

Suki took off the wig with relief because it was getting a bit hot. Sokka was quick to try to grab it and put it back on her head “What are you doing?! what if they see us?!” he exclaimed.

Suki began to laugh at her goofy boyfriend “I don’t think they’ll notice” she retorted while gesturing to a giggling Aang and Katara across the restaurant. “Besides I don’t think these disguises are all that convincing” she claimed as she dropped the wig on the floor by her feet while shaking out her hair actually attached to her head “Why don’t you take off your beard too?”. 

“I - uh- I can't, I kinda glued this to my face” Sokka admitted while mumbling towards the end of his statement.

Sokka agreed to not pay attention to Aang and Katara’s date and just focus on having a fun evening with Suki. That being said he did look over the kyoshi warrior’s soldier every now and then, just to be sure.

They went on to discuss the new girls who had joined the Kyoshi Warriors. Although the war had ended not too long ago there were many girls asking to join the warriors or to just learn self defense. It certainly kept Suki occupied, even more so because Ty lee offered to teach everyone how to block Chi which will be a great asset in battle but longer training sessions. Despite this she enjoyed it and the rewarding feeling all the same.  They continued chatting and every once in awhile Suki would joke about Sokka’s first interaction with the warriors, which Sokka did not laugh with out of stubbornness but he was grateful that Suki had set him in his ways, she’s really astonishing and he can’t believe he ever underestimated her. They continued like this until Sokka heard something that made him go stark white.

Three tables over there was another couple enjoying their evening, or budding couple. Aang and Katara sat across from one another not saying anything. This was their first date and although they both knew they had feelings for one another both of them have never actually been on a date before and they weren’t exactly sure how to interact. After a minute of awkwardly blushing at each other and passing pleasant casualties they both started laughing at themselves.

“ I don’t know why we’re both being so awkward, this really shouldn’t be different from all the other times we hung out” Katara pointed out. 

“Only difference is I can do this,” Aang replied as he reached over to Katara’s hand that was resting on the table and held it. Katara blushed and giggled at this air nomad’s cheesiness and he began to laugh along with her. He really didn’t know what he was doing but it sure felt nice to hold her hand and Katara felt the same way. Aang was relieved Katara didn’t pull her hand away, he knew she had kissed him after the war ended but he had felt so bad after the night of the play, he didn’t want her to feel her boundaries were violated again. He hated that he made her feel pressured, he wished he knew how to do any of this. He wondered if any of the past avatars could give him guidance on this but he’s not sure that was the intention of being given worldly wisdom.

“What are you thinking about?” Katara questioned. Noticing Aang’s change in expression.

“Just how funny it is that I ended a 100 year war but I’m struggling to talk to my best friend, I always thought if I got the chance with you I’d know exactly what to do and I’d sweep you off your feet” Aang replied with a sigh.

“Don’t be silly, you have already swept me off my feet” Katara stated, making Aang give her a quizzical look. “Remember when we accidentally sent off the fire nation booby traps when we first met? You picked me up and carried me off to safety” Katara answered with a smile remembering that hectic day. He had remembered that day, before they had found the old fire nation ship that day was one of the funnest he had in awhile. After it had been announced he was the avatar none of the other kids wanted to play with him. Having Katara penguin sled with him made him feel so happy. He was terrified that when it was revealed he was the avatar, Katara would’ve reacted the same way as his best friends and distance herself from him but he’s incredibly grateful that she didn’t, even though he did put her tribe in danger. He doesn’t know how he’ll ever repay her for giving him a family when he lost his and everything he knew.

“I guess I did” Aang smiled back at Katara.

“Besides, do you think I have any idea what I’m doing either?” Katara pointed out to Aang. Although she was older than him by two years she didn’t really have any experience, all the older boys went off to war, the only boy she really interacted with was her brother. Sure during her adventures she met a few boys she found cute but none of them had the connection that she and Aang had. As much as her friends like to tease her about Jet and Haru, Aang was her first kiss, so she’s just as new to this as he is. “We'll figure it out together” she finishes as she squeezes his hand that she was still holding and leaning over to give Aang a kiss which he embraced happily. As they broke apart from their tender moment Katara noticed something, or more accurately someone, out of the corner of her eye.

“I can’t believe him!” Katara suddenly blurted, making Aang jump a little breaking him out of his trance. He instantly became alert, expecting some enemy from their past to be in the restaurant ready to fight because of the anger in Katara’s voice. When he looked around and didn’t see anyone that looked remotely threatening, Aang just stared at Katara with a puzzled face until Katara pointed to a table close to the entrance of the restaurant that had her brother wearing his ridiculous Wang Fire beard and Suki with a wig by her feet.

“Ugh, does he really not trust me to go on a date by myself” Katara complained who had turned away from her brother who hadn’t noticed that she saw him and neither had Suki. “I mean I never pulled something like this with him and Yue or him and Suki, he could at least do the same” Aang gave a shrug in consolation and was not really sure what to do in this situation. He wasn’t surprised that Sokka would do this but he was disappointed and Katara’s moment was ruined.

Suddenly Katara had a devious grin slide across her face. “How about a little prank on my brother?” Katara suggested. Aang nodded, happy to do whatever she had in mind.

Sokka had noticed Aang and Katara getting up from their table, he tried to just look down in hopes of the pair not noticing him. He shushed Sukki which caused her to glare at him until she noticed that because of the location of the table in proximity to the door that Katara and Aang would walk by them. She put her head down as well making it seem like the noodles before her were the most interesting thing in the world. Although she was against her boyfriend’s idea of spying she still felt bad for being here, but she wasn’t gonna waste an opportunity to get some delicious food.

As the new couple walked by Sokka and Sukki’s table they overheard their conversation.

“I don’t know Aang don’t you think we’re a little too young to be that intimate but I am willing to try it could be fun” Sokka overheard her sister say. Sokka went stark white, she couldn’t mean what he thinks right? They wouldn't, right? Especially not Aang, isn’t he a monk- do monks even? Is Aang even old enough to-? Oh god he doesn’t want to be thinking about these things he’s starting to wish he never came.

Suddenly his sister walked back to his table where he was having a crisis. “No not actually, we’re only kids” Katara suddenly spoke up answering the questions she knew her brother probably had. “But that's what you get for spying” she stated, she then walked back to Aang who was blushing bright as a tomato because of the nature of the prank Katara pulled, he was expecting something like using waterbending to splash Sokka’s drink in his face. The young couple left the restaurant hand in hand as Sokka kept his hands in his face and Suki was left spitting out her tea with laughter.

[honeymoonshimbos]

All-Stars

HI! This piece is one I’ve written in a collab my best friend and I are doing. I don’t have ao3, so I will be posting my works here. However, they have already uploaded the first chapter here https://archiveofourown.org/works/26311690 The AU explores the characters in a more domestic, wholesome setting through a series of one-shots all centered in this universe we have created. There are emotional scenes and funny scenes. It will break your heart and mend it back together, like any good au will. I really do hope you consider checking out that chapter and giving my best friend support.

For the sake of this one-shot, some context will be necessary. In this au, Dio (adopted) and Jonathan are in their thirties and are the older brothers of twins Johnny and Joseph (19), Jotaro (17), Josuke (16), and Jolyne (14). Their parents, George and Mary Joestar, have tragically passed, so Jonathan is stepping in as a caretaker for them. Giorno (15) is Dio’s son. Diego Brando (26) is Dio’s brother from his biological mother. That being said, all of these relationships are explored and bring a fun dynamic to the AU.

SO, without further ado, here’s the GyJo you came here for.

“Hey, Gyro? I think I’m ready.”

He didn’t even have to ask what for. Gyro knew. He had been sitting back with Johnny, and the two of them were on the topic of tattoos. Gyro was showing off one he found on the internet that he was thinking about getting, but he didn’t know. He didn’t know where to put it either, so until he figured that out he was refraining. But Johnny… he had this plan since he was 15, and he’s told Gyro about it before one night when the two of them were up too late in each other’s arms knowing they had to be awake for class in just a few hours. A lot of their nights went like that.

Johnny Joestar used to dream of getting 9 stars tattooed onto the back of his right hand. One represented each of his siblings, one represented his nephew Giorno, and two represented his parents. After the accident happened, Johnny couldn’t bring himself to do it. He would always love his parents, don’t get him wrong, but even just thinking about the tattoo made him so sad. It reminded him of his life before it all went to shit. It reminded him of when his parents were still around and how he wanted to show it to them after he asked for money for his 18th birthday from everyone so he could go have the tattoo done.

His 18th birthday was long passed. His desire to get the tattoo faded along with his normal life, and up until now it rarely even crossed his mind because he forced it out so much. Thinking about it was painful. It was easier to just give up the idea until he was ready, if he  was ever ready.

Gyro made Johnny an appointment with his tattoo artist, and Johnny got to work drafting an idea. It wasn’t like he wanted anything complex, but going in blindly and completely trusting someone to permanently ink him without giving just a little example of what he wants was scary, despite how much Gyro trusted the guy. Gyro’s opinion was worth the world to Johnny, and he trusted him a lot, but this was his body they’re talking about here.

Regardless, Johnny had a draft drawn up with the size of the stars and the colors he wanted. When the day finally came around, Gyro and Johnny went to the tattoo parlor. The two waited their turn at the reception desk, and Johnny looked super pale. “You know you don’t have to do this, right? We can go home, pick up some McDonald’s on the way.” There was a McDonald’s right around the corner from Gyro’s apartment, they’d be all set.

“No, Gyro. I want to do this.” He felt… good. This was a good decision. This was something he needed to do. This was something he avoided doing because he knew it might upset him. It’s not like this will be a tattoo he regrets, though. His family will always be his family. He isn’t having a lover’s name inked onto his arm, or someone’s face on his leg. These were simple stars to represent his loved ones. And when he places his hand against his heart, they will all be there too.  

Moments later, the receptionist called them up. They got checked in, and then the artist emerged from a hallway with another client. He usually walked them out. When he saw Gyro, he gave him a small smile. “Good to see you, Gyro. This is Johnny?” He turned to the smaller man. Johnny observed the weird shape of his beard, and the hair on his head too. His barber must be a professional to get a grid-like look like that!

Gyro was pleased to see an old friend, greeting the man in a hug before stepping back. “Yeah. This is Johnny,” he introduced him, then looked toward Johnny and continued the introductions. “Johnny, this is Wekapido.” With that, Gyro made a demonstrative hand in Wekapido’s direction, as if presenting him to Johnny.

Cool. Okay. Awesome! “Good to meet you Wekapido.” Johnny said. Regardless of the lack of smile, Gyro knew he was happy.

“Likewise,” Wekapido said. “Alright, come with me.” He led the two of them down the hall. There were various rooms in the hallway, some of the doors open with artists sitting in chairs on their phones, or washing their hands. Other doors were closed. Wekapido entered one of the empty rooms with an open door, holding it for the others before gesturing to the sink. “So, Johnny, why don’t you wash your hands and then we can get started.

The room was small. There was a sink and counters where a lot of the equipment was kept, things Johnny didn’t recognize. He didn’t know what most of these things did. The room was just large enough for a bench, a stool, two chairs by the door, the sink and counter, and some wiggle room. This was a tough space. Johnny did as instructed after his sky blue eyes took in the room. He washed his hands, then dried them with a paper towel. After he finished, Wekapido invited Johnny to sit on the bench and get comfortable. While Johnny did that, Wekapido washed his hands and got some of the materials ready. Johnny handed over the little sketch outline he made.

Gyro pulled up one of the chairs from next to the door and set it down right beside Johnny. He took a seat with his chest pressed against the back of the chair, manspreading and all. Bless Gyro and his inability to sit like a normal human being. Setting his arm against the back of the chair, Gyro picked up Johnny’s left hand in his own, just rubbing his fingers before kissing his knuckles. Mwah! Some green for you, Johnny. The grin on his lips revealed the little mark he left to Johnny before Johnny even saw his hand.  “Are you nervous?”

Of course he was nervous. Gyro could tell, couldn’t he? There was nobody like Gyro. Johnny just looked over at him, taking a look at his vibrant eyes and the sweet, mischievous smile on his face, unable to fight a soft smile of his own. He reserved all of his smiles for Gyro, and recently they’ve been showing themselves more and more frequently. Only for Gyro. “Yeah, kind of. I’m excited too.” He didn’t tell anyone he was doing this, not even Joseph, so he was really eager to surprise everybody.

Nodding in response, Gyro gave Johnny his best attempt at a reassuring smile. “I’d bet. It’s going to look so pretty, Johnny.” Honestly, it was really cool that Johnny was doing this, and Gyro was honored to be selected to accompany him today. They were getting really serious. If this was the rest of  his life, with Johnny, he would be beyond satisfied. “I love you. Squeeze my hand if it hurts.” Gyro already suspected it might hurt, bad. Johnny was tough, but when Gyro was around he tended to be a bit of a baby.

“I love you too.” Turning his hand around, Johnny grabbed Gyro’s and laced their fingers up together all nice,  just in time to see Wekapido approaching, ready to go through with the inking. Oh, god. Here it goes. Johnny’s pretty blue eyes widened a little when he saw the needle. Quickly,  he looked over toward Gyro. “Why did you let me do this??” He asked in a whisper-hiss. Gyro just laughed and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. He knew Johnny would be so grateful later.

He absolutely was.

A few hundred “GYROOOOOOO!!!!!!”s later, Johnny got a tattoo! His hand felt a little sore, numb for sure. The skin was red and swollen, irritated, but it would calm down with time. One of the good things about hands is that they heal faster than a lot of other parts of the body since they’re used so often. Thanks, for the fun fact, Kira.

The two of them were in the car, on the way to the Joestars’ for dinner so Johnny could show off his sick new tattoo. In the passenger’s seat, Johnny rubbed the ten stars with his opposite thumb, but stopped when Gyro took his hand. Touchy-feely Gyro was a giant teddy bear and a big snug bug. Johnny didn’t mind it one bit. He turned down the radio and looked over toward  Gyro with a smile on his face. His side profile was one to admire while he drove. Shining lime eyes illuminated by the setting sun, his patchy facial hair His skin was rich and smooth, glowing a warm tone. Long, dirty blonde hair framed his face and fell down his shoulders, to his mid-back. It was thick, luxurious, the hair of a Roman God. What a beautiful man…

“So, Johnny… What would you say if I proposed with a ring with stars on it? It would match your new tattoo so nice.” There he goes again. They were stopped at a red light, so Gyro turned to look at Johnny, waiting for his reaction.

This wasn’t the first time Gyro asked him something like this. Johnny always assumed they were some twisted, weird jokes. He had an odd sense of humor after all, wouldn’t it make sense? Although there was a small sparkle in his baby blues, Johnny rolled his eyes. “Stars on an engagement ring? The ring will be too small to even see it.” Regardless, Johnny had an appreciation for Gyro’s jokes.

Yeah. Stars on a ring was kind of a stretch. Testing the idea with Johnny wasn’t, though. Gyro just let it end there since the light changed. He was usually more on the aggressive side when driving, but kept himself in check with Johnny around. The last thing he wanted to do was make him uncomfortable, right? He was confident in his abilities to provide Johnny a safe environment, safe enough for him to realize it one of these times when Gyro brings up engagement again. The security veil of jokes was one Gyro could always fall back on when Johnny got irritated, like he did the first few times Gyro ‘joked’ about that kind of stuff. For now, he was alright with them being perceived as harmless jokes.

It wasn’t long before the two of them arrived at the Joestars. It wasn’t a birthday or a holiday or anything, more just dinner with the family. A few other cars were parked outside. Gyro recognized Caesar’s. He parked by the curb and took the keys out of the ignition, turning to look at Johnny who was already releasing his hand and getting out of the car. Gyro actually wondered what it was like to be this close to his family. Gyro was never this close, maybe with Caesar but that was it. He followed Johnny up to the door.

It was Josuke who greeted Johnny at the door; he was most likely in the living room anyway. As Johnny peered inside, he got a glimpse of Okuyasu on the couch. Yep. They were in there. Johnny conveniently lifted his right hand and waved with it. Much like a newly engaged woman in a rom-com, he was absolutely drawing attention to his hand.

“Hey guys- WOAH, Johnny?? When did you get that? Can I see it?” Josuke asked, very eagerly  as he already grabbed Johnny’s hand and held it up for closer examination. While examining that tattoo, he stepped back from the door so that Johnny and Gyro could come inside. With a reaction as strong as Josuke’s, attention was grabbed. Okuyasu was looking at the tattoo after not even a few seconds, and then in came Jolyne, Joseph, Caesar, Jotaro, Kakyoin, Giorno, Dio, Jonathan, and Robert were gathered around, looking at Johnny’s hand, fawning over his tattoo. Even Diego Brando was here looking at it. To Johnny’s surprise, he said it was cool.

“Dammit, now people can finally tell us apart,” Joseph cracked a joke, grinning before he pulled Johnny into a hug. “Damn, it looks good though.” After unhanding his twin, he looked at it again. If he wasn’t mistaken, this was the first tattoo of the family! Dio had none, Joseph had none, and did Jonathan really need to be mentioned? Mom and Dad didn’t have them either.

Silent approval even came from Jotaro, in the form of a nod and a small smile. Jolyne expressed her specific admiration and had to remind everybody that she too planned on getting a tattoo once she was old enough. Then, Jonathan spoke up. “It’s beautiful, Johnny. What does it mean?”

There was the question Johnny was waiting for. Admittedly, he kind of wanted to show off. He held up his hand, and with his left index finger he began to point out the different stars. “One of these represents each of my loved ones,” he said. “A star for Jonathan, Dio, Joseph, Jotaro, Josuke, Jolyne, and Giorno… And then one for Mom and one for Dad,” Johnny explained. There was one star unaccounted for. He pointed toward the star right at the base of his thumb, where his index finger connects. “And one for Gyro.” One for Gyro, of course. Gyro deserved a spot in Johnny’s Hall of Fame. Gyro didn’t even expect a star. He stood beside Johnny, a proud smile on his face before he simply turned and wrapped Johnny up in the biggest Gyro bear-hug he could manage. From the look on Johnny’s face, he was pleased. Patting Gyro’s arms, he got a look at everyone around. Dio was giving an approving nod, Jotaro too. Josuke and Jolyne were fawning over the fact that their older brother got a tattoo. Giorno was admiring the aesthetic of the tattoo, Joseph was brought to tears, and Jonathan just surged over and hugged Johnny too. Johnny was now sandwiched between two big hugs, it was really pleasant.

“That’s beautiful, Johnny.” Jonathan told him after pulling away. So easily moved to emotions as he got older… “Take it easy, though, it looks swollen.” After Johnny insisting he was fine, the emotional moment had passed. Joseph was sniffling all through dinner, though. He was so proud of Johnny. That’s his twin right there!

Dinner went well, as was expected with a Joestar family dinner. They were chaotic, and there sure as hell were a lot of people trying to fit at one large table, but it was always fun. Johnny picked up a few more belongings from his room to take with him to Gyro’s. He was doing it a little at a time, so slowly his room was becoming more and more scarce. Upon arriving home, Gyro packed away the container of leftovers he had been given to keep. Johnny put his stuff in a spot in Gyro’s bedroom. Gyro moved his stuff around to make spots for when Johnny wanted to bring his things over. It was a beautiful thing. The two were so happy together.

Gyro showered before bed, Johnny laid down and watched YouTube. He would shower in the morning. He didn’t want to deal with his tattoo right now. After Gyro got in his pajamas, just his boxers and an old OLD t-shirt that was somehow the comfiest thing in the world, he got in the bed beside Johnny, wrapping his arms around the smaller blonde. It’s CUDDLE TIME. Gyro couldn’t sleep if he wasn’t clutching something, and his giant teddy was elsewhere.

Luckily for him, Johnny settled into his chest. He made such a nice little spoon. Johnny set his phone on the nightstand so it could charge overnight, and he just settled into the comfort of Gyro, his hands against Gyro’s. Safety was best achieved in Gyro’s arms. However, Gyro soon picked up Johnny’s hand, his sensitive tattooed hand, and brought it up to his lips. Gyro pressed a single little kiss, right where his index and thumb met.

Right where his star was…

“Goodnight, Johnny,” Gyro said, Johnny’s name rolling so smoothly off of Gyro’s tongue like it always did.

Johnny could hardly take it. The smile on his face was so big, he could hardly bring himself to reply. He did, though. He couldn’t leave Gyro hanging like that. Johnny wanted him to know just how happy he was that he did that. It was the sweetest thing. “Goodnight, Gyro. I love you.” Just to solidify it, he gave Gyro’s hand a squeeze.

His Italian man practically purred, clearly pleased. “I love you too.”

[ninjakitty15]

Cold As Death (Loki)

Chapter One: Looks That Could Kill

By all accounts, today should've been like the countless other days before it. Just another day stuck in a glass cell with the occasional "scientist" trying to figure out how to harness something no regular schmuck or mortal could hope to grasp by poking, prodding, and bleeding me. But this was Hydra for you, try to change one idiots mind, and several more idiots tell you you're wrong. German, American, or other, there are evil idiots in every corner of every world, that's for damn sure. At this point I couldn't figure out why they still kept me here, locked away from everything when they couldn't what they wanted from me. They already tried torturing it out of me like pain would make me crumble, I just ended up wincing or laughing depending on what they did as there were times I actually wasn't sure I felt anything, not because they did it often enough or it was that bad, I was just sorta dead inside so some nerve endings didn't always work.

The only thing remotely unusual about today though was it wasn't as busy where they stashed me, hands locked in power dampening shackles and a metal muzzle to boot. At some point earlier they attempted to keep me sedated and unconscious but I woke myself back up once they left me alone thinking I was no longer a problem. Amateurs. As I sat in the middle of the cell, eyes closed but fully alert and coherent, I felt before I ever heard a presence that felt otherworldly to me. They were silent, seeming to observe with caution as I felt it get closer and start to circle the container then pause right where I knew the controls of the cage to be. There was a fifty fifty chance this presence would let me out, the other half being they come in and another round of human pinata would start but instead of candy it would just be blood and a lot of bad puns and jokes falling out of me, maybe drop a few s/m mentions. Serious folks tend to get real uncomfortable when you get sexual on them. If you can't laugh about sex, you don't have a sense of humor.  A button was pressed on the panel and a door formed in front of me where the glass was and I got a stronger feel of who or what was in front of me on the other side. They were definitely not your average Joe, probably not even human and flowing with a lifeforce not even mutants could possibly obtain. An immortal for sure. They took one step toward me and because this wasn't something I'd encountered since my containment, I instinctively tensed which made them pause again.

"You're awake?" A smooth almost british accented voice, noted softly yet curiously.

I opened my eyes then just to confirm that as the muzzle was holding back my usual smartass responses. They was actually one tall man clad in leather and gold metal, watching me carefully with piercing blue/green eyes. Maybe it was seeing the same ugly mugs every day for gods know how long I've been down here and finally seeing a new face, maybe it was the fact he was wearing my two favorite colors and pulled it off better than anyone else I've seen try that. But damn did he look good. It might also be the killer jawline and physique too. His eyes fixated on the muzzle for a moment and a hardened scowl formed for some reason, surprisingly not twisting the dashing look like it does most angry men. And then suddenly I could speak again but opted to gasp like a dying beached fish because damn did it feel good to not have airways being blocked anymore. Vaguely I wondered if my lips were chapped from the damned thing before smiling maniacally.

"Finally, oral freedom!" I cried overdramatically.  "I don't usually offer though unless its returned, all's fair in love and fun stuff."

The man cracked a small smile and ventured a step closer to me. "What are you? And why are you in here?"

"Could ask you the same thing, hun," i quipped. "And seeing as I was here first, you should answer first."

He chuckled and took a more confident step toward me though his lifeforce strengthened like a guard around him. Before he could answer himself though, a booming and somehow familiar voice called out. "Loki, have you found anything down there?!" Which caused the dude now named Loki to cringe at the interruption and sigh.

"No one here but us ghouls," I told him in answer.

"They have a prisoner down here, brother!" replied Loki though his eyes never left me.

"Prisoner's such a harsh word, I prefer forced resident or illegal obtained house guest," I informed him. "You answer his questions, but not mine. It's because I'm black, isn't it?" I was actually what one would describe in terms of skin color as not recently dead pale white.

"I thought he was answer enough, I'm sure you know of Thor, he likes to play the hero of this realm," Loki replied to me, an eyebrow arched.

"The Norse God of shitty weather? Y'all aren't busy with cooler realms?" I asked.

"This wasn't my choice," was his dry response, making me smile more.

I snickered. "Spoken like a true sibling. So you came down here, an alien immortal, because your big brother told you so. My heart bleeds for you really."

He glared at my unabashed sarcasm and crossed his arms over his chest. "Now answer mine before he comes in and makes a great mess of this place."

"More than the people that came with this building already have? That's gotta take talent. But I'll bite. They hunted me down gods know how long ago and attempted to extract something from me that makes me awesome, didn't work obviously or they'd make a mess not even your brother could trump and we wouldn't be here talking. Too valuable to be killed, though they couldn't if they tried, too stubborn to be experimented on. Where'd they go anyway? Are you guys the reason I didn't get my daily prodding?"

"My brothers...friends dealt with the ones they could find, if they're anything like their namesake, I'm sure there's more in hiding waiting for reinforcements or something like that."

Another man leaped down out of nowhere that definitely wasn't Thor as he didn't have long golden locks or a beard, his head and half his face were actually covered by a mask and instead of a hammer was a shield in one arm.

"Thor failed to mention it was a woman," the new dude noted.

"And my gender matters because...?" I wasn't actually offended by this, just messing with him to get a reaction which worked as he genuinely looked bashful, making me cackle. "For all the armor you people wear, it's still surprisingly easy to get under your skin. Maybe I've just been here so long, they're just fashion statements now, if everyone's wearing leather armor count me in!"

"Sorry to disappoint, but it's just us," Loki told me.

"She tell you why they're holding her?" the new man asked him.

"They're trying to steal her powers though I'm not sure what they are yet."

"Only the best kind of course," I told them. "It's all the rage these days, all the Hydra agents gotta have it."

"Well they can find it somewhere else as you're free from them but you can tell us all about the what and why, if you don't mind," the new man said.

"You say that so politely but I'm getting the sense you weren't asking. I'll comply if you give me a hand here, mine are a bit tied up at the moment." I raised my shackled hands as high as able since they were chained to the metal floor beneath me.

The new man was quick to break the chains connecting me to the floor before Loki waved a hand like Jedi Knight and the shackled sprang open, dropping to the floor with a loud clang. I flexed my hands and shook them a bit to get feeling back with them being cramped and slowly got to my feet, staggering a bit as my leg bones cracked from the sudden use and weight. I sighed in sweet relief and relaxed with a slight grin. "Alrighty then!" With my hands free, so was my powers just a bit more and I could collect and stretch it out, testing the waters. That seemed to be enough for Loki to notice being a power person as well and both eyebrows shot up as he probably felt what I was doing. I winked at him before turning to the other guy. "Onward and upward!"

With the new guy leading me out of the building and Loki being my tail, I was on my way to freedom for good before being nearly blinded by that god awful ball of fire in the sky, everyone else calls the sun. I recoiled and refrained from hissing like an angry vampire, stumbling back into Loki in the process who steadied me and smirked at my reaction to daylight. The new guy looked back hearing me cursing at it and raised an eyebrow in question but didn't actually ask anything.

"What? I'm not a morning person," I responded before straightening up but subtly elbowing Loki in the stomach, causing a soft grunt from behind while accidentally hitting my funny bone which wasn't that funny at all as my entire arm went numb and tingly at the same time. "Stupid toned god with your stupid abs of granite."

The new guy stopped walking and pressed a hand against his ear. "We're out, all the agents we could flush out are dealt with. A ride would be nice." Ah he was talking on a com of some kind it seems. How high tech yet old school. Within a few moments, an even more hightech fighter plane of some kind hovered low enough for him to climb in first then offer his hand to pull me up as I was unfortunately not remotely as tall or long legged as either man near me. I looked around the plane curiously to see another man and a redhaired woman at the front as pilots, the woman looking back and landing her eyes on me as well.

"Are you the prisoner Thor spoke of?" she asked.

"I'm the illegally obtained house guest, yes." Loki snickered behind me and I reminded myself not to elbow him again as my arm still hadn't gotten proper feeling back.

The woman smiled as well and nodded. "Buckle up then, we're heading back to base, could get bumpy. All good back there, Steve?" she called after the first new guy who was now Steve.

"Ready when you are," he answered, sitting at the tail end of the machine.

The plane rose up and shot forward at an illegally unsafe speed above the city. Loki had settled across from me, eyes ever studying me but unlike the agents that actually did and more, they weren't malicious or power hungry, just cautious and curious. I decided to test his resolve then and locked my eyes on his in an unwavering staring contest. "First one to blink loses."

"Is that why they muzzled you? Because if you're not under their skin, you're cracking jokes?" he asked.

"If you don't have a sense of humor you don't have much to live for and that's how they win. Also no, it's not how I talked, but who I talked to or when it wasn't them."

"To contain your powers, like they did your hands then. And they didn't get anything from you?"

"What I have can't be drained or pulled out or copied, it's not specifically found in something like DNA or an organ or something physical even. Those guys claim to be scientists but real scientists accept facts as they are when proof is found and I'm living proof they're all frauds with no results. I bet they don't even have a Ph.D."

"They're Hydra, they're funded by power and money, not degrees and universities," Steve spoke up.

"So you're telling me they just pulled a few crazy people with crazyass theories on things from a hat and told them they're scientists now? I should've gone to college there, I wanna have money and be told I have a job with more money. All I got from mine a piece of paper saying I know some things and then years of disappointment from being unemployed. I probably look good in a lab coat too."

"A stark difference from your current attire of all black and hooded," Loki pointed out.

I snorted. "All they let me wear after ruining the one I was caught in from their experimentation, they thought the attire should fit the power, how unimaginative is that? Let's just advertise exactly what I can do to everyone around me, that'll throw them off for sure."

"And what can you do?" he challenged.

"Uh-uh, spoilers sweety. A preview of which will cost you extra."

"But we just gave you a free ride," chipped the male pilot.

"Hey, you're not part of this conversation, and I don't even know where we're going, this could be a free ride to something worse. Like Shield or the dentist."

"Bad experience? Ate too much candy as a kid, didn't you?" the pilot guessed.

"If you think there's such thing as too much candy, then your childhood sucked and I pity your past."

"Tony's gonna love this one," mused the female pilot. "What's your name?"

"I've been out of custody for like 15 minutes and finally someone asks! It's Noelle, Nell for short. And you pilots are...?"

"About to land for starters," the man said. "I'm Clint, she's Nat, and we're at base so everyone out of my plane."

"That's Tony's plane actually," quipped Loki as the plane landed and everyone unbuckled. "Come along, meet the rest of my brother's friends."

[hinabes]

Inarizushi’s Backstory

A story about hubris, expectations and a surprising amount of worldbuilding.

I. Priestess

“The Inari God has descended!!!”

“It’s the Inari God!!”

“The Inari God has descended!!!”

I opened my eyes to the sound of excited cheering. Humans, dressed in the garb of clerics and priestesses, worshipped on bent knees, the excitement in their gazes genuine.

I looked down to assess myself.

When I was a part of the Chaos, I was to believe that when we were incarnated in this world, our appearances would be determined by our basic intentions.

...Unless the summoner had strong pre-existing obsessions.

“Lord Inari, these are the things we’ve been protecting.”

According to him, this Inari shrine housed holy relics of utmost importance, and if they were destroyed, catastrophe would befall Sakurajima, where we were.

Even though I was slightly annoyed, I looked at his earnest expression and nodded.

So be it, since you summoned me from that boring Chaos, I’ll fulfill your desires.

The man was elderly by human years, with a long white beard flowing from his chin; he looked kind and gentle.

It was just that when he looked at me, it was as if he were actually looking through me at someone behind me.

That must have been their so-called “Inari God”.

The Inari God ought to be true to themselves, to be revered.

The Inari God ought to maintain purity, to resist any and all filth.

So said the old man constantly, and he respected me very much.

Alas, that was restricted to when I acted like his ideal “Inari God”.

“Aw, shucks~ Come see me again, okay? Master Ninetails~”

The courtesan’s soft fingers brushed against the back of my hand. Her alluring smile and longing eyes were calculating, though I didn’t hate it.

After all, when it’s all the same drinks and service smiles, everyone prefers to do it with someone gentle and caring, who understands their heart’s desires.

“Ah, might you be the Master Ninetails whose been in everyone’s good graces lately?”

The voice was teasing and flippant. I turned to look up and the way his long sleeves dragged on the crimson stairs caught my eye. Though it was formalwear, the way he donned it was casual, draped loosely over his shoulders.

The way his eyes crinkled was even more attractive than those of the beautiful courtesans. I raised my head slightly regard him, and when his playful eyes met mine, I understood that this guy was the same type of person as me.

“Master Ninetails, shall I have a drink with you today~”

“That would be wonderful.”

“Eh-- Boss, you can’t be hogging all the business~”

“Then today’s drinks are on you.”

“Fine~ I won’t disturb you~”

Chin propped up on my hand, I arched my brow at the young man who pleasantly shooed off the girl.

“You’re the owner of Shangri-La?”

“What is it? Scared?”

“Nothing, let’s drink.”

I stalked back to the shrine in the dead of night, and was greeted by the old man’s anger the moment I stepped through the torii gates.

“You went to that filthy place again, in this disgraceful form!”

I gave him nothing but a humorless sneer.

To say that returning to my original appearance and doing the things I want to do was filth?

Ridiculous.

II. God’s Intermediary

“Pfft-- You’re saying, you take the female form in the day and pose as their pure Inari god? And you can only return to this form at night to drink and let loose?”

Junmai Daiginjo held in his chuckle, though I was helpless to the humorous glint in his eyes.

Once we got to know each other, his original stunning demeanor didn’t get any less impressive, though, in front of me, he did get livelier and more… infuriating.

In the time I downed the wine in one gulp, he had his elbow on my shoulder.

“Man, in my opinion, what if you left those boring guys and joined my Shangri-La? With your looks, Ninetails, if you took female form, you’d give me a run for my money as Oiran. Though… the male body isn’t bad either. How about you be a man for a day, woman the next!”

“Shoo, keep flattering yourself.”

I irritatedly shook off his hand and side-eyed Daiginjo, already rolling in laughter. Propping my chin up, I gazed at the still sky outside and let out a long sigh.

I didn’t dislike the female form and even liked looking like a woman sometimes.

But… these days were certainly… quite boring…

“You- You- You! You stubborn bastard! Going to that indecent place again! Associating with those filthy people! And that smile, that unbecoming smile!! You!!! Undress and cleanse yourself under the waterfall!!!!”

Even with the flame of his life flickering out, the old man mustered the energy to butt heads with me. My smile dulled, the good mood I built up at Shangri-La ruined once more.

It was winter. Icicles had formed at the top of the waterfall, the water rushing down sticking my clothes to my body. Seeing the old man angrily looking at me, I couldn’t help but shake my head and close my eyes.

It’s not that I wasn’t grateful for him bringing me into this world, and it’s not that we had only bad memories between us.

He brushed my hair gently, he made my soft bed, he prepared my favorite tea.

But he did all this because of his faith in the Inari God. Not me.

So be it, he was my master attendant, I’ll have to do as he pleases. He was already so old, I could think about leaving after sending him off.

Humans really were fragile.

Weak, powerless, feeble.

Fingers thin as twigs laid on the back of my hand. His eyes were already clouded.

“Inari… You’re the Inari God, never forget, you are the Inari God!” “Rest assured, since you revere me as your God, I will assume a God’s duties to the end.”

“Hearing that… puts me… at ease…”

The clerics and priestesses ducked out of my way as I left the room, and they spoke in tones they thought I couldn’t hear.

“Heh, this monster really thinks it’s a god.”

“Tch, as expected of the old fool.”

“That’s right, now we can chase him out! Then the Inari shrine is ours!”

“Yeah! Then all the offerings… hehe…”

“But… they’re for the gods…”

“What gods, the old fool was the only one who believed in them.”

Hah, filthy humans.

Gods aren’t all joy and happiness, they feel rage too.

Blasphemous, to have never respected the gods.

And to be blasphemous is to invoke divine punishment.

III. Monster

The people of this land had long since forgotten what the gods bestowed upon them.

The gods granted them plentiful harvests, bestowed them peace.

Yet the people neglected to pay respects, to be thankful.

And the food souls who came to this world to aid them received no such respect either.

“Hah, monsters should be dealt with by monsters.”

“Hmph, such monsters, if only they’d die sooner than later!”

“Hope they get rid of each other. Saves us from having to look after them.”

Daiginjo looked at the dark sky weighing over their heads as he drank, his brow furrowing.

“Why is it, that we’re the ones with power, yet we have to hide in the darkness and take the form of those weakling humans and pretend… by right… we’re supposed to be protecting them…”

That’s right… Why is it, when we’re the ones protecting them, we don’t get even a word of thanks and are labeled monsters…

“Since they’re calling us monsters anyway, we should act like it, shouldn’t we…”

Daiginjo chuckled, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

I knew that this was his invitation for me to join his world of monsters.

I can never tell what he’s thinking, though that didn’t get in the way of us being friends.

His every word was playful, though each of them I took to heart.

The humans, pampered for far too long, had forgotten their respect for the gods.

As such, another face of the gods shall restart their memory.

I didn’t even have to sully my own hands.

I needed only to take a back seat and watch as the monsters born from their own desires swallowed them whole.

One blood-red night, towering flames engulfed the red shrine.

The mournful cries were muffled by the wind, the blood splattered on the ground scorched black.

When I stepped into the shrine, the cleric who once called the old man an “old fool” grabbed me by the ankle.

“Lord Inari… save me… save me…”

“And for what?”

“I…”

“Bold of you to ask for divine salvation, having never paid the gods any respect. Save yourself, foolish human.”

“...Monster!!!! You’re a monster!!!”

If I have to become a monster for you to remember what you’ve done, then so be it.

IV. Under the Shrine

“Woah, what a thorough burning.”

Daiginjo rubbed his chin, taking in the destruction. I sat on some surviving stairs to drink, watching the humans hard at work, rebuilding the shrine for the gods.

In hindsight, it was pretty funny; while the shrine was standing, the humans paid the gods no mind. Only when disaster befell them had they remembered the gods they forgot.

And only when the “monsters” stopped unconditionally helping them had they remembered the respect these “monsters” were due, building altars and presenting offerings.

Bored, Daiginjo returned to Shangri-La, and only I stayed to watch them work, yawning as I sat on the debris.

“Um… Lord Inari… We found a hidden entrance in the shrine… come look…”

“Hm?”

“We’re… too scared to go in, please come take a look…”

“Alright, it’s quite late, you can all take a break.”

“Also...the… monsters in the fields…”

“I’ll deal with them tomorrow.”

“Thank you, thank you!!!”

Before, I would have never heard this “thank you”.

With a long sigh, I cleared my head of my many laments and headed for the hidden entrance.

It was dark and cold, and I was surprised to discover such a large space under the shrine.

Tucked away underground, in the deepest reaches sat a single altar.

I wanted to investigate, but I was stopped by a huge amount of energy.

Even more unexpectedly, I found the energy oddly familiar.

I reached out to touch the barrier. Flowing through the barrier… as I thought, it was the energy that plucked me from the Chaos initially.

At the center of the barrier, encased in black smoke… could it be…

That guy… To protect the relics, he forcefully stripped away the huge amounts of energy in the summoning process, trapping the food soul that was supposed to be born within the pull of this energy.

If that’s the case… perhaps…

V. Inarizushi

Junmai Daiginjo was dumbfounded. In the time he took to get drinking snacks for his pals, Inarizushi ended up with a mean-looking fox kit glued to him.

“...An illegitimate child?”

“Daiginjo, don’t think I won’t hit you.”

“Ahem, I mean, where’d you find it.”

Thump--

With a muffled thud, Junmai Daiginjo hit an invisible wall while walking towards Kitsune Udon.

“Ow--”

“Don’t you touch Master Ninetails!”

“...Hoh, the little devil’s protective. Ninetails, be honest, where’d you get it?”

Inarizushi glanced at Daiginjo, who was rubbing his forehead, then at Kitsune Udon, who was gripping his clothes and hiding behind him, and laughed.

“What if I said they fell from the sky?”

“Fine, I’ll drop it if you don’t want to tell. Come have a drink, a birthday toast for the kid.”

“I’m not a kid.”

“Hmph, what a kid.”

“I’m not!”

Inarizushi shook his head resignedly, helping himself to Junmai Daiginjo’s wine bottle. He turned his head to look at the pitch-black sky outside distractedly. 

“What are you looking at, Ninetails?”

“Nothing. Don’t you think this sky could use some sprucing up?”

“...Heh.”

“What are you laughing at? Don’t you think so?”

Junmai Daiginjo shrugged, clinking glasses with Inarizushi, downing the clear wine in one gulp. He gazed at the sky tenderly, yet there was an underlying apathy.

“Boring things are better off discarded.”

Junmai Daiginjo turned his head to see Kitsune Udon pouring wine for Inarizushi and he quirked an eyebrow in surprise.

“You taught me that. What of it?”

Junmai Daiginjo propped up his chin to observe Kitsune Udon lapping at the wine when they thought nobody was looking.

“Uh… Nothing, the wine’s a bit strong, a kid who just fell from the sky shouldn’t drink so much the first time~”

As Junmai Daiginjo finished speaking, Kitsune Udon downed the rest of the wine, letting out a long burp, head falling to the table with a thud.

“I heard… this part of Sakurajima is protected by relics, and if they’re destroyed, catastrophe would certainly fall.”

“That’s right, what of it?”

“Then this...the key of this kid from the sky, I wonder what it will unlock?”

Inarizushi stopped patting Kitsune Udon’s hair to look at Junmai Daiginjo, who was smiling pleasantly.

“Do you have to know so soon? I don’t want to lose a drinking buddy so quickly.”

“I’m not in a hurry, it’s not too late to think about it once other artifacts have surfaced.”

“You’re not scared of me running off?”

“Master Ninetails is high and mighty, he’d never. Come, have another cup, this is Shangri-La’s best wine! I don’t bring it out for anyone but you.”

“Hoh, great, cheers!”

Translation Notes

(SHOVES INARIZUSHI ASIDE) A SURPRISING AMOUNT OF WORLDBUILDING

The Chaos, which I’ve also referred to as “chaotic energy”: it’s a very vague word to begin with and can mean both. I’m more convinced it’s a real “thing” now, wouldn’t go so far to say “place” but it may be the other side of the Tierra fish (it’s also called Chaos)

It may have something to do with the greek creation myth? idk

Now we know that 1) food souls come from there, 2) they’re told(?) things there, 3) they’re self aware there, 4) its boring

funtoy please give us more concrete stuff i dont want to keep grasping at straws

KITSUNE UDON REAL. funtoy please steal my design xoxo please i will pay u

the 2nd half of ch4 was pretty vague but I’m fairly certain that the black smoke/whatever’s in it was kitsune udon

I’m also not sure if kitsune udon is a separate character or inari’s fox. his art doesnt show him with any foxes but neither does it show nine tails

i also have no idea kitsune udon’s gender so i went with they. there’s literally not a pronoun to be seen in the last chapter bc chinese be like that

i’ve decided to call junmai’s brothel “shangri-la”, you might also see it called “bliss” or “paradise”. it’s more specifically the sukhavati of buddhism

[revisionaryhistory]

Three Days ~ 34

Catch up on AO3

~*~Sebastian~*~

 Dog and pony show it is. There were more and varied people at the party, but it felt the same. I felt like I was on a leash being paraded around the room. I was introduced, explained about, talked at, and I acted well enough to win an Oscar. There were some people and some stories which were interesting. Sometimes not. Advertising campaigns are usually less interesting than movie things. Corporate people and I don't have much in common. I have a rudimentary knowledge of corporate executive speak from previous functions, but most of the conversation is them asking me about projects and people. It was really bad after Civil War because everyone wanted information. Information I didn't actually have. Hell, we didn’t know it was a funeral when we filmed the damn thing.

Almost two hours in I escaped to the bar. Wait staff had been delivering me drinks, but this was a moment of escape. I leaned against the bar and asked for tequila. They had the one Emma had said was her favorite. I took a sip and smiled.

 A voice beside me said, "The tequila that good or the party that bad."

 I looked at my glass then the man squeezed in the corner. He was my age, dressed more casual in jeans and a nice shirt, and swirling a healthy two fingers of bourbon around a glass. I opted for truth, "More about the woman who told me this was her favorite."

 "That's better than either." He held out his hand, "I'm Sam."

 I shook his hand, "Sebastian. Nice to meet you." I nodded toward the people. "How do you fit in here?"

 "My wife." He pointed to an attractive redhead. "I’m the arm candy."

 Funny.

 "Good for you."

Sam smirked and took a long drink. "Where is your tequila connoisseur?"

I looked at my watch, "Eighteen hours and a ninety-minute train ride north."

He hissed in a breath, "Sorry."

"No, nothing bad." I was shaking my head. "She's new. It's new." I smiled, "It's good, just new."

"New is good." He cringed, "Too good to expose her to this horse shirt."

We continued talking until I finished my second drink. Sam walked with me over to his wife and my night had taken a definite good turn.

My head hated me in the morning. My stomach wasn't my biggest fan either. I downed a bottle of alkaline water and some Advil before heading to the gym. I grabbed a hangover smoothie on the way. By the time the workout was over I was feeling human. I took a degree of shit for being hungover and a little extra for my weekend plans. Specifically, my hangover would have a negative effect on my weekend. I called bullshit. They were just trying to get into my head.

 For this weekend I packed better. I guess that means I packed better for tonight’s dinner. Tomorrow was a shorts and t-shirt sort of day. I wonder if her team has a uniform? Now I have to pack several different colors of shirts to make sure I'm not walking around in rival colors. Alternatively, I could ask.

 Sebastian ~ What are your team's colors?

 Emma ~ Blue and orange.

 Sebastian ~ I can do blue.

 Emma ~ Got something against orange?

 Sebastian ~ Don't like orange.

 Emma ~ Me either. How was last night?

 Sebastian ~ Tequila!

 There were pictures from the party on the companies Instagram. I took a screenshot and sent one to Emma.

 Emma ~ Your face! Look at your face.

 I'd shaved before dinner. I ran my hand over the stubble that had already grown back.

 Sebastian ~ No beard for this ad.

 Emma ~ Can’t wait to get my hands on your face.

 Sebastian ~ I'm done for the day. Can you pick me up at 3:30? If not, I’ll go visit mom.

 Emma ~ I can. I'll still be in work clothes.

 Sebastian ~ Teacher is hot.

 Emma ~ We'll see...

 Since my meeting canceled and I’m not leaving for a few hours I decided to stretch out on the couch and read. That lasted about fifteen minutes. I'm distracted. Distracted by a woman. It’s been a long time since I've been distracted by a woman. A very long time to this degree. I keep replaying conversations. I can hear her voice, the words she uses, and her laughter. I can see her smile and the way she holds her body. Her beautiful body. Her strength and her confidence, the way she carries herself is sexy. There’s a compilation of clips running through my mind. Thoughts and memories distract me from my day and make me smile. All the damn time.

 On the train, I started working on a playlist. More than one. A bigger one with songs that had me thinking of Emma. Fast, slow, sexy, whatever songs. I included things I wanted her to hear. I shoved everything into the big playlist. From there I narrowed it down for a smaller one. A soundtrack. Songs I want to dance, sing, make out, and have sex too. I moved things in and out several times. Making a playlist for us is much harder. I don't want songs that don't reflect what I’m feeling, what I want. That's tough because I'm changing every hour. I’m jumping in with both feet, then stepping back to ease in, then running forward again. Back and forth and up and down. Never going backward from where we are. The back and forth is more trying to find what's next. What's too far? And is it too far for me or am I concerned it’s too far for her?

 Time went fast. My project was nowhere near done. Luckily, I had another train ride to work on it come Monday. Outside on the sidewalk was a long line of cars. The traffic was steady, even rushed, to get out of the lot. Just the pickup was delaying the process. It reminded me of a roller coaster where you get in and barely have time to buckle up before the ride is off. I could see a red CRV back almost a dozen vehicles. I walked toward until I was close enough to see Emma in the driver’s seat. She saw me and waved. I heard the door lock disengage as I reached for the handle.

 First things first, a kiss. Slow enough to feel it and quick enough to not get the wrath of the other drivers. Emma reached for my hand, "I'm glad you’re here."

"Me too." I took a moment to check out teacher clothes and started laughing. "What the hell are you wearing?

 Emma smiled, "It's Fantasy Friday."

 "Pull the damn car over!" I point to the right. "Over there." She did as I asked and pulled across two spots. I moved my hand to shift the CRV into Park. "I need to check this out."

 Emma wore a purple gauzy dress with a halter top, a skirt halfway to her knees, and long strands of cloth hanging in different lengths. She had a pair of black tights on under the dress. In her hair, she had a crown of flowers and behind her were white wings.

 After checking out the whole costume I met her eyes with a smile, "Fantasy Friday."

 "I'm a fairy."

 "I can see that." She looked cute and silly. The thought of her teaching class dressed like a fairy made my heart beat faster. I don't have to see her teach to know she’s a good teacher. She's gone all-in. She looked confused by my facial expression. I shook it off, it didn't matter and she’d understood in a second. I reached under her hair, mindful of her wings, and cupped her neck. "Is there a curse or anything for kissing a fairy."

 "Only if you do it badly."

 "I'm safe then."

 I leaned across the console to press my lips to hers. My intention was a relatively chaste but long kiss ending with a hint of tongue. Emma wanted a long, deep, wet, kiss. I was easily convinced. Very easily. I'm pretty sure the only reason we had a mini make-out session in a parking lot was that it was too light and too busy to have sex. We have some kind of incendiary chemistry going on.

 I moved away from the kiss and buried my face against her neck. I laid a wet kiss where she liked best before moving my mouth to her ear and whispering. "I gotta tell you. You look very cute, but this isn't my fantasy."

 Emma ran her hand down my arm, "You'll have to fill me in on your fantasy, so I can make that happen for you." She kissed me and held tight to my bicep.

 The hours of distraction and attempts to pull together a playlist were paying off for me. I was already worked up and excited to see her. Actually being with her, her dressed to read to her students, and our flirting kisses had me on edge. I’m calculating the appropriate time between arrival and having sex. I had a basic idea of continued flirting through dinner, ramping up to sexual flirting before we got to dessert, then cutting loose when we got back home. But I'm telling you, I feel like Emma has other plans. Plans for me. I like being the subject of nefarious plans. I'm feeling kinda stalked. The good kind of stalked. Not the someone tracking my movements through my friends’ Instagram type of stalking. I won’t be going far enough for her to lose me, so she won’t have far to stalk. It's conceivable I could tie myself to her bed and wait for her to show up. Ok, maybe not right now, but it’s an option.

 She told me about Fantasy Friday as she drove. "We have theme days through the months. Like Manic Monday where we incorporate movement and dance into our lessons. More than usual and have a dance party in the afternoon. Naughty or Nice Tuesdays where they earn cards to get them out of things or trade with peers. Camping Thursday is big popular. But Fantasy Fridays are the best. They all get into it and I have boxes of costumes so no one feels left out."

 Emma’s attention to make sure no one would feel left out was one more thing on the list of things that make her an amazing teacher. "What happens on Fantasy Friday?"

 “Today they had to present their character story. Where they're from, what skills they have, what their lives are like."

 I could tell by the tone of her voice she had fun with her backstory. "Tell me yours."

 Emma smiled at me, "I am the lost fairy of Central Park. There was a war with the bridge trolls and I was sent away for my safety. Soon an agreement will be reached and I will return to my home. I enjoy pollinating, singing to flowers, and providing mediation between arguing animals."

 "Is this lesson recorded?" I was most interested in the pollinating.

 "It is."

 "Can I watch?"

 "If I can watch something of yours."

 I squeezed her hand. "Deal."

 At her condo I followed her in, watching the fabric swish and admiring her ass. Like I said, worked up. Worked the fuck up.

 Emma opened the door and walked in, holding the door. She smiled as I walked in and spoke, "Bine-ai revenit, Sebasti-an."

 I stopped dead in my tracks. Emma had said, "Welcome back, Sebastian" in a not too bad Romanian. The accent was off, but her pronunciation of my name was beautiful. To me anyway.

 My mouth hung open in surprise, a slight smile curving the sides. "Mulţumesc. (thank you) Did you learn words to be able to say my name?" Last weekend we’d discovered I prefer the Romanian pronunciation of my name, but it didn’t sound right in connection with English sentences.

 Her smile answered, "Da." (Yes)

 I walked to her, pressing her back to the wall, with my hands on either side of her shoulders. I was affected more than I would have expected. "How much do you know?"

 She grimaced, "Not a lot. Pronunciation is hard."

"I know someone who can teach you."

 "Gotta be phrases so I can say your name."

“Sărută-mă. Repeat." My eyes stayed on hers.

"What am I saying?"

"Try it and see." This was fun. And hot, really fucking hot.

"Sărută-mă, Sebasti-an." She may not know what she’s saying, but her tone was perfect.  Fucking hell. I can't believe her.

 "Fericit, iubito." I dipped down and sucked her bottom lip between mine. Emma licked along my lips urging me to open to her. It didn’t take much urging.

 Emma kissed my collar bone, "What did you have me say."

 "Kiss me." I went for her neck, "And I said “Happily, baby".”

 I continued kissing her neck, loving the way she sighed and the feel of her hands on me. I stepped closer to press the length of my body against hers. My cock was hard and the pressure against her stomach felt amazing. I pulled my head back to breathe, looking up and closing my eyes. I felt her hands cup my face and tilt my face back to hers.

 "Do you want me like I want you? Right now." She licked her lips.

 I groaned before I spoke, "I really fucking do."

 We crashed together. Emma rubbed against my cock and I kissed her like it had been forever. I dug underneath the fairy fabric and hooked my thumbs in her tights, taking those and her panties down to the floor. I reached for my bag and found a condom. I held the corner between my teeth as I stood. I needed my hands to run up her legs and one to slide into her. The way she curled her hips against my hand made me smile around the condom.

 Emma plucked the condom from between my teeth and tucked it into her bra, "Give me that." She was kissing me before the words died in the air. Her hands went for my jeans. A slow stroke of my cock preceded the sweet sound of my zipper. Her hand wrapped around me as soon as she had my jeans over my ass.

 I pushed my jeans down farther and nuzzled between her breasts. I grabbed the condom with my teeth and mumbled, "I need this back." I worked quickly, covering myself and bending my knees to push up into her.

 Emma cried out and I moaned loudly. I put my hands on her ass to lift her, using the wall to help support her. She wrapped her legs and arms around me, holding on while I thrust into her. There was nothing but the sounds of sex. No words, just sound. God, it felt good. All lust and need. I wanted the sex. I wanted the contact. I wanted the closeness. She fucking learned Romanian to use my name. That’s the thought that sent me over the edge. I buried myself deep and came hard.

Emma's fingers ran through my hair as her legs went back to the ground. My face was buried against her neck, "I think I smashed your wings."

She laughed, "They detach. Snaps."

"Oh, good." I pulled us away from the wall, feeling around for the snaps as she hugged me, her hands caressing my back. I undid the snaps and dropped the wings on my bag. "Come with me."

I took her hand, leading her to the couch. I led her to sit across my lap, her fingers ran over my chin. "I don't know if I like the gray patch or dimple more."

I didn’t care as long as she kept touching me, "I don't always have control of any hair on my body."

She kissed me lightly, "I saw I,Tonya."

I cringed, "Bad look all around."

"Everything grows back or can be shaved off."

I trailed my finger along her shins, over her knees, then back to her feet, "I lost a section of pubic hair for the Bronze." Her eyes widened with amusement. "Character had a tattoo. An Olympic medal."

 Emma laughed, "Narcissist."

I said the line, "I am the fucking god of gymnastics."

"We should watch that later tonight."

 "No, we shouldn't." I kissed her before she could voice any other shitty ideas. I moved my caress under her legs and when I got to the back of her knees her legs fell open, which was what I was going for. I kissed over to her ear, "That's what I wanted."

I slid two fingers inside her, rubbing the wall of her vagina to find her g-spot. I massaged internally and

barely used my thumb on her clit just enough to get amp things up.

Emma took a shuddering breath, "Talk to me."

I kept up the stimulation and moved my mouth close to her ear. The words came out in long sentences. Long Romanian sentences. When her nails started to dig into my arm I moved back where I could see her face. "You gonna come for me, baby?"

"I am."

I used more pressure inside and out.

 Emma gasped and arched her back, "Oh fuck, Bastian. Your fingers...”

[khaoticallykat]

◇The Prince and The Punk◇

Chapter 9: End of the Rope

Word count: 1,802

Warnings: language

A/N: YOU THOUGHT I WAS DONE?! FAR FROM IT!! I had sever writer's block so I'm back y'all and I'm gonna finish this before the new year. I can't leave y'all hanging in 2020.

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

Ransom dreaded the days ahead as it all too quickly became Saturday evening, he sat on his bed, looking at the black tv screen. Messages came from Clarissa saying that she was excited to spend dinner with him tonight and pictures of her in different dresses followed through, some more revealing than the last. But Ransom didn't care what she wore, he rarely ever did. He remembered the first time they went on a date, to get acquainted with each other and the potential future they had together. He remembered being told to be on his best behavior by his parents, remember the way her very short dress hugged her tightly. Second hand embarrassment crossed his mind as he remembered only staring at her breast during dinner, getting a little handsy with her on the way to the car, and finally getting her out of that tight dress in the backseat. 

Things slowly began to take a turn, the first time she actually hit him was when he raised his voice at her over a stupid argument. He remembered feeling ashamed, but the hitting became more often as the little things he did annoyed her. Ransom remembered her slapping him across the face in public at the bar for being friendly with the bartender. The time she shut him out in the rain for getting the wrong purse for her birthday. But the worse was when he didn't want sex, she would scratch, bite and hit him for refusing any advances made by her. 

He felt trapped. Doomed to be in this relationship forever. 

But things were different now, he wouldn't have to go through this anymore after tonight. Tonight he was going to get his life back, even if it meant losing everything. 

Ransom rubbed the small amount of stubble on his chin and checked his watch one last time, "Let's get this over with."

The restaurant was simple yet grand, something that would at least satisfy Clarissa who was picky on where they ate. "What made you want to go on a date all of a sudden?" She asked him as they pulled into the valet, letting the attendees open the car door for them. 

"It's been a while and we've both been working hard." Ransom smiled as he walked with her through the doors and were promptly sat at their table.

"Aw, babe, you're such a sweetheart when you're not being dumb." Clarissa said, "You should have shaved your face, you're starting to look like a hobo."

Ransom laughed, despite the mean comments as they ordered, "I'll remember that."

As expected, during the whole dinner Clarissa talked about herself and her school work, if it wasn't school work, it was cheerleading, if it wasn't cheerleading, it was her life. Ransom, sat and listened to the whole thing, zoning in and out of Clarissa's speech, she could be a filibuster with the way she talked. 

"And also, when are we going to be getting anything from your grandfather?" She asked, "That old geezer should totally help us pay for our wedding, I'm sure he has the money for it, plus it's just two more years until we get married, do you think he'll stay alive that long? That house nurse looks like she's sucking him dry and not just in the boring way." 

Ransom's jaw clenched, "You know, babe, funny you should mention my grandpa." He chuckled darkly, "He's not giving us shit, my family isn't even his fucking will, can you believe that?" 

Clarissa's jaw dropped, "what the fuck? How are your parents going to pay mine back?" She seethed, "That fucking old dick, we have the right to his money!" 

"I don't know how my parents are going to pay yours back, it's messed up actually, because since he told me that, I'm ending this relationship." 

"You're…. What?" She asked, dropping her fork, "You're fucking with me Ransom, you can't just 'end this relationship', we're engaged basically." 

"There's no paperwork saying that we're together," Ransom said, standing up from the table, "so I'm done, I'm done with how you treat me like shit, beat on me and assault me. We're done Clarissa, I'm serious. You will get nothing from my family." 

The whole restaurant stood still, watching Ransom and Clarissa, hushed voices could be heard but it was clear that everyone knew this was a break up. 

"Ransom, you can't do this!" 

"But I just did, waiter, she's paying for the dinner, I forgot my wallet at home." Ransom said, turning and walking out the door, Clarissa chasing after him. 

"Where the fuck are you going?!" She yelled, "You can't leave me here!"

The car was brought around and Ransom received his keys, getting into his BMW and rolled down the window, "Call an Uber." 

"You're gonna fucking regret this!" 

"I don't have anything to regret if it gets me away from you, eat shit Clarissa. " Ransom said as he pulled away from the restaurant, down the road while Clarissa stood in shock. 

Monday rolled around as your weekend went by, taken up by work and school work, it was strange but not unusual to not hear from Ransom, but you saw his BMW in the parking lot at school and figured he had a busy weekend like you did. What you weren't expecting was Clarissa's dirty look as she walked by your car, weird. Later that day you found Ransom in the library, wearing the leather jacket you picked out for him. He looked gorgeous, his skin glowed and he had a smile on his face, which only grew more wide when he saw you. The warm smile made your heart flutter as you sat across from him. 

"What's that look for?" You asked him, "finally understand your math homework?"

"I broke up with Clarissa." 

Your eyes widened, "Seriously? Is that why she was giving me a dirty look today?" 

"Ignore her," he said, "I got tired of it, of her, controlling me and making me feel like shit." 

"God damn, I'm happy for you then, what girl are you gonna swoon next?" You laughed, but felt a sting in your chest from the thought of Ransom being with someone else. That wasn't jealousy was it? No, no, you don't get jealous. Especially not over a himbo like Ransom fucking Drysdale. 

"I don't know," he said, stroking the imaginary beard he had, his blue eyes staring deep into yours, "I could try to swoon you, make you my girl, my sweetheart."

Oh fuck. 

You both burst out laughing as people who walked by gave you both looks. 

"Shut the hell up Ransom!" You said, wiping tears off your face. The statement only made your heart swell more, Ransom was your friend and that was the boundary that was set. 

"Alright, alright, it was worth a shot," He smiled, "but do I still get to take you out places?" 

"You can take me anywhere you wanna go Ransom, I'm always down for a road trip with you, even to the store." You smiled as you stood up from your seat, "I gotta get going, I got work today, catch you later?" 

He nodded, "have a good day at work, sweetheart." 

"Eat shit, Ransom." 

You walked out to your car, noticing as you got closer, your tire was flat. "Fucking great-" not one, but two, and they weren't just flat, your tires were slashed. You blood began to boil as you looked around for the culprit, your eyes landing on the cheerleading squad, laughing loudly with some of the football players. Among them you saw Clarissa, laughing and smoking a cigarette. 

You tried to rationalize that maybe she wasn't the one that slashed your tires, maybe it was someone else who had it out for you. But who? That's when she made eye contact with you, a big smug look on her face. 

Ok, this bitch is just asking for it. 

You marched across the parking lot to group, silence falling as you walked up to Clarissa. 

"Hey, it's y/n! What's up?!" She asked. 

"You slashed my tires." You answered, it wasn't a question, but you know it was a fact.

Clarissa gave an exaggerated gasp, "what?! Why would I do that?" 

"Listen, Clarissa, I don't know what you have against me, but if this is about you and Ransom breaking up, leave me out of this. I'll give you a chance to pay for my tow and tire replacement before I-"

"Hm, I assumed Ransom told you we broke up?" She asked, stepping closer to you, "or were you waiting for him to break up with me? Controlling him so you could get your slutty hands on him."

"Ok," you breathed, getting annoyed by the minute, "first of all, I have no interest in Ransom, he's just my friend and-"

"A friend you're fucking," she scoffed, "you don't think I noticed the way he looks at you?! Spending all his time with you?! What would he ever see in you? You're probably not even a good fuck."

You snapped, clenching your hand into a fist as you reeled back and- 

A arm wrapped around your shoulder, another grabbing your wrist, you looked up to see Ransom, staring daggers at Clarissa.

"I called a tow truck, go to my car." He said sternly, it was the first time you actually listened to him without fighting back. 

Your shoulders relaxed as you began to walk away, Clarissa was clearly about to say something when Ransom turned his back to her. You stood silently at his car, looking at your pathetic little Volkswagen. Your blood still boiled, wanting to get back at Clarissa, but you knew it wouldn't do you any good. 

Ransom was taking pictures of your tires, probably for insurance purposes, "I'll change your tires at my place, you should call your job and tell them you'll be late." 

"I can't get to work, I'm gonna need to call out." You sighed.

"I'll take you and pick you up, it's the least I can do for you." He said.

You felt your gut twist at his kind action, why the hell were you in the middle of this? And why did you feel so weak? Pulling out your phone you began walking in a circle around his car, calling your manager to say that you weren't coming in today. Thankfully, she understood and didn't ask questions, the tone of your voice was all she needed to know something was wrong. Hanging up, the bright yellow flashing lights of the tow truck came to a halt in front of your car, Ransom gave the man his address and soon your car was towed. 

"Let's get going." He smiled as you both got into his car and followed. 

[boogiewrites]

Choking On Sapphires 68

Title & Song: What Kind Of Man

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Genevieve (OFC)

Word Count: 9400+

Summary:   Alfie breaks a promise to Genevieve, causing their worst fight yet. When she threatens real repercussions against him, he finds himself being the one doing the begging for the first time. Her need for control turns into a good old fashioned hate fuck. They find themselves a new way to solve their arguments and a new understanding of boundaries in their relationship.

Warnings/Tags: Explicit Sexual Content. Strong Dom/Sub roles and reversals.Bondage.Blindfold and rope Sub Alfie with a touch of Dom. Dom Gen with a touch of Sub. Fluff, Angst. Arguing/Fighting, yelling, forceful physical restraint and shoving while fighting. Emotional manipulation. They’re both unstable.But I love them and their flaws.

**Chapter song is What Kind Of Man by Florence + The Machine.**

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.)

Alfie had made some questionable decisions in his day. He was aware of this. But now those decisions involved you. Some you knew about, others you didn't, and on this day one that you did not know about, and for good reason, was going to cause a fight that would bring him to his knees.

He sat in his office, eyes miles away, fingers picking through his beard as his mind raced.

"You ain't 'eard from 'em?" he asks Ollie for the third time this hour.

"No, sir, they're set to call your office phone anyway."

"It's been too long." he grumbles, eyes moving to the silent phone on his desk. "She shoulda been outta that meetin' and on her way home by now." he slumps and rests his forearms on his desk.

"Maybe there was more to discuss than Abeille? Or another meeting after she'd added on?" Ollie offers, trying to be helpful.

"You suggestin' I 'ont know how to keep tabs on me own woman?" he glares over to the tall younger man, who now had eyes wide with fear and apologies.

"I wasn't-" he begins his head shaking back and forth when the phone rings.

Alfie doesn't take his eyes off Ollie, a low brow still berating him wordlessly. "'Ello?" he answers.

"Boss... uh... you should be goin' to the missus house as soon as ya can." the stuttered and rushed words of one of the men he'd sent to tail you around town for protection make him stomach tighten.

"Why?" he demands in a flat and authoritative tone.

"She knows about us." he says, catching his breath.

"And how the fuck would she know? What'd you do? What took you so long to fuckin' call?" he commands.

"It went south quickly. Roddy was shot and I had to take him to the hospital." he hesitantly answers.

"Fuckin' shot? What about her?" his eyes go wide with worry, his free hand placed on the top of his desk, body already wanting to dart for the door.

"She's fine. We got in in time to help her out. They had her outnumbered but... she fuckin' gave it to 'em that's for sure."

"What the fuck happened?" he asks forcefully.

"From what I gathered, with her screamin' at us 'n all. The people she's meetin' with saw us tailin' her. We didn't pull up 'til after she was in like you said. But they thought she was tryin' to ambush 'em and they went off on 'er. We heard gunshots and ran in. Then she held us by gunpoint and made us tell her who we were." he says in a fast and panicked way.

"You fuckin' useless wankers." he groans, rubbing between his eyes. "I told you not to fuckin' tell her who you were!" he shouts into the phone.

"She was gonna shoot us sir! She even cut me up a bit to get me to talk!" he says in a high pitched desperate voice.

"I 'ont care." he spits out. "That's what ya fuckin' hazard pay is for ya fuckin' lot 'a bellends." his voices rises and falls, knowing he was going to be met with the same fate now. "You two are back on fuckin' cleanin' duty when you get back 'ere. You understand?"

"Yes sir." he says with a sigh.

"Right. Now I gotta go deal with what you fucked up." he sits the phone done on the receiver like it weighed a ton. He shuts his eyes, takes a deep breath and rises to get his coat.

"That didn't go according to plan I take it?" Ollie asks.

"Ya got anymore daft fuckin' useless questions?!" he shouts in his face, shoving him out of the way to walk through the doorway.

Ollie shuts up and lets Alfie have his space before going back to work.

On the long drive to your place, he's left trying to figure out how to navigate this unfortunate turn of events. You would be furious. He knew that. He also knew he couldn't make you understand the reason he had men follow you in the first place. You were too precious a thing to him to lose. He wasn't going to let you get snatched up in broad daylight or attacked while you shopped at the market if he could help it. The tails had only been a way to keep you protected but he knew you wouldn't see it that way. He couldn't live without you and if he didn't do everything he could to keep you safe he'd never forgive himself.

"He's here." you hear Claire say with a heavy sigh as you're standing in the garden, fuming, thinking of all the things you wanted to scream at Alfie while you ripped him apart. You say nothing and walk briskly past her. "He's in your bedroom!" she calls out, shoulders hung low as she knows whatever is about to happy won't be pretty.

With no hesitation you move your overworked muscles towards your room, throwing your door open and slamming it shut behind you, your dressing gown shifting with your fast and certain movements. He sees your face and prepares for the onslaught coming his way.

"Genevieve I can explain." he begins, hands up in surrender as you stomp towards him like an angry bull.  When you reach out and slap him open handed across his face it catches him off guard. His head stays turned, eyes wide as he processes the hit. He tried to keep his face indifferent but the pain made him want to fire back at you

"I almost DIED because of you!" you scream at him, brow low and hard, face set in a tight, furious expression as your eyes bore into him.

He turns his head, eyes shifting to you first to take you in, seeing scrapes and bruises he didn't expect. He had been told you were fine, and this was not the untouched story he'd been sold. "You should know that would never be my intention, pet." he tries to soothe you with pet names even though he knows it won't work.

"But it was your intention to lie, yes? To have me tracked like a fucking animal without telling me?" you shove him and his legs hit against the end of your bed.

"I wanted to keep ya safe, love, I-" he talks with his hands, punctuating his points.

"That's a load of shit and you know it!" you growl, leaning in closer.

"No it's not, yeah?" his voice finally rises,and your postures straightens, ready to hear what he had to say in terms of defending his stupidity. "I had them follow you to keep an eye on you."

"Because you don't trust me?" you cross your arms as your voice evens out, head tilted at him.

"Course not! I didn't want someone tryin' to snatch ya up or fuckin' trappin' ya in some fake meetin' because 'a ME." he sells the last word heavily.

"But you can lie to me? Funny how that reasoning works with you." you spit out.

"I didn't lie I just didn't tell you." he groans.

You shove him again. "You fucking horse's arse!" you shout. "So full of shit!" you ball up your fists. "Can't even take responsibility for your actions!" you look down your nose at him with digust.

"I am not ya fuckin hell cat!" he shouts back. "Come down off ya fuckin' pedestal and join the rest of us in the fuckin' real world Genny! I did it to keep you safe because there are men out to KILL YOU, RIGHT?! Because of ME! If somethin' happened to you that I coulda stopped, do you think I could live with that?!" he put his hands to his chest in defense of himself, his anger cracking to show the concern that birthed his lies.

"And I almost died TODAY because of YOU. They saw the men trailing me pull up, they asked me who they were and I didn't know BECAUSE OF YOU! They thought I was lying and I had a gun pulled to my fucking HEAD because I was left in the dark. YET AGAIN!" you scream and get in his face and he holds his ground against you.

"I ain't gonna apologize for tryna keep ya safe!" he barks.

"We've had this argument before Alfie. Don't you remember? The one where I threatened to fucking KILL you if you did it again?!" you ask with an eerie calm to your words, his chin dropping in control of his emotions.

"Of course I fuckin' remember! I-" begins with an already exhausted look on his face.

"THEN WHY DID YOU DO IT AGAIN YOU DAFT FUCKING MAN?!" you screech, shoving him. "Why must you continuously prove to me that you can't fucking listen? That you don't actually respect my abilities or my space. Because if you fucking respected me you would LEARN from your mistakes. You PROMISED me that night that you wouldn't pull this shit again and what did I tell you?" your voice is loud and has grown a crowd outside your closed door. Aggie is in tears and Claire's muscles have never been so tense.

He opens his mouth to speak and you cut him off.

"I told you not to make me regret my mercy." you snap. "And what have you done, huh?" your voice rises again.

"I'm sorry Genevieve... I-" he leans forward and thinks to reach out to touch you.

"OH NOW THERE'S AN APOLOGY!" you laugh wildly, turning from him with your arms in the air in disbelief of his actions. "I can't believe I fucking trusted you." you shake your head slowly before turning back to him. "Everyone was right about you weren't they? Don't believe a word he fucking says, they told me. And I thought you loved me and I was fucking stupid enough to fall for you and your lies."

"I do love you, Genevieve," he says with downcasted eyes and slumped shoulders. "I do love you, that's why I did it!" he states with an open mouth like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"If you loved me you would've TOLD ME!" your resolve begins to break and your lip trembles before you can turn from him.

"I did it because I can't lose you, do ya not see that?!" his voice rises, giving away his desperation.

"If you were truly worried about losing me you wouldn't have had me tailed without my knowledge. Even putting today's events aside in which YOUR actions almost got me KILLED, your actions are grounds for me to leave you." your voice cracks.

"Genevieve you don't mean-" he shakes his head slowly.

"DO I NOT?!" you scream into his face. He reaches out to touch you and you smack his arms away. "Don't you dare fucking touch me." you growl and his face winces, jaw going tight. "If I killed you it would be too obvious. So the next step down is to leave you isn't it?" you bite out. You don't believe what you're saying, not really, but you want to hurt him as much as he's hurt you.

"Don't talk like that love." he says softly, shaking his head. "I only risked doin' that because if somefing happened to you that I could've prevented I couldn't live with meself." he says, chin down and eyes lifted up to yours, voice cracking as you watch the lump in his throat grow. "I can't lose you. I didn't want you hurt. Today was an absolute fuck up on my behalf, yeah? I never meant to make you think I didn't respect you. I was tryin' to take extra precautions to keep ya safe. It did not work. I'm sorry! You have to see that I love you, Genevieve, and that's why I did it." he leans his face towards you to sell his words to you.

"And your love includes going directly against anything I've ever asked of you?" your voice is raspy, fighting back emotion, hearing the surprising softness of his own in his pain. "Why would I stay with a man who would keep me in the dark? You say you had me trailed to keep me safe but do you not see how it also leaves me to believe you don't trust me?"

"I do trust you, love. I do. That were never a part of it, yeah? It was only for extra protection."

"Then you should have asked me!" your voice high pitched.

"And your stubborn arse would've said no!" he says loudly, his face slack and eyes wide, palms up in exhaustion. "Then I would've bloody gone 'n done it anyway wunnit I?" he shakes his head. "Because as long as you're mine, I will do anyfing and everyfing in my power to keep you safe!"

"So you're telling me that you would ignore my wishes?" you say, your disgust clear on your face.

"I thought it better to ask forgiveness than permission." he admits.

"My capacity for it has its limits. You fooled me once Alfie... you don't fucking get to do it twice." you scold, leaning in towards him.

"I'M SORRY, RIGHT?!" he shouts back, arms out at his sides. "I 'ont know how else to fucking tell you I did it because I fuckin' love you and I can't fuckin' live without you so I YEAH I would go against your wishes because you aren't always right, Genevieve." he barks back.

Your mouth falls open and you glare at him. "Get out." you whisper.

"No." he says defiantly.

"Get the fuck out of my house." you hiss, fists balled and eyes trying to hide your frustration with the situation. You wanted to hurt him, you wanted him to cry and hurt. Not be this controlled man you saw in front of you. You wanted to rip him to pieces. You wanted him to learn his lesson.

"Genevieve no... please..." he says with a heaving chest, moving towards you even though you smack his hands away as they touch you.

"Get out." you begin to cry. He reaches for you, holding you tight by the arms and you whimper. "Stop it Alfie." you continue to try to push him away but in your emotional state you can't fight him off. "You don't love me. You're mad. What sort of man acts like this when he's in love?" you choke out with a face showing your hurt. "You don't love me." you bite out at him.

"I do. I'm as mad as a fuckin' hatter for you, Genny, that's why I do things like this." he says softly, trying to bring the energy down. "I can't even think straight when it comes to you, love, I think of you as mine already, you know 'is." he nods his head to drive his point home. "I know you're hurt and I'm sorry. But I would be a shell of who I am now if I lost you." he says leaning in close to your face, you see in his eyes he means it. "I'll do anyfing, Genevieve, what do you want? What do you need from me because I 'on't fuckin' know." he asks quietly, seeing your face soften but your brow stays hard in defiance.

You swallow hard, taking a deep breath. You didn't want him to be without you as much he didn't want it. You wanted him to pay though. He deserved some sort of punishment for what he'd done. You say nothing and look away from him.

"Please, Gen, I'm sorry. Let me prove it to you, yeah? I'll work to earn your forgiveness." he takes your face into his hands and when you let him he feels a weight off his shoulders. "Let me show you I only react in such a way out of love." he says softly, a kiss to your forehead that your body reacts to. "Let this make us stronger, eh? We were due for a good fight weren't we? Two people like us can't go without blowin' up from time to time can we? You're too passionate to be contained, love 'n I know you're angry but can I do anything now, in this moment, to ease it? Just don't you dare talk about leavin' me." he finishes gently, thumbs rubbing across your cheeks.

You both fall quiet, an air of desperation hangs around you. "You did it because you're afraid of losing me?" you ask of him.

"Terrified." he whispers. "Only thing I'm afraid of." he shakes his head.

You take in a deep inhale. "What would you do if you lost me?" you ask.

"Burn down the whole fuckin' city to get to whoever did it. I'd be the most miserable fuckin' man anyone ever had the unfortunate chance to meet. I'd be left to get swallowed up in my hate cause I'd lost my love, wouldn't I?" you stare into his eyes and you find nothing but honesty there now.

"Do you need me Alfie?" your voice is breathy as you shut your eyes.

"Like air." he whispers.

"And you love me?" he watches over your soft face, your chest rising and falling slower now as you speak.

"Infinitely." he answers.

"And you're mine?" your brow furrows as you ask.

"I am."  You feel the warm feeling wash over you.

"Tell me you're mine. No one else's." you shake your head subtly.

He gives to your wishes without hesitation. "I am yours, my love. There is no one else in my eyes but you."

You open your eyes again and he finds them dark and dilated. You feel a power come over you, hearing a strong man like him give in. You knew what you needed from him now. "Get on your knees." you say in a clear, flat voice.

He narrows his eyes in question, side-eyeing you for a moment.

"I'm going to have you earn your forgiveness," you state slowly. "Get on your knees." you say with more a command to your tone.

He lets your face go, eyes staying locked on yours as he kneels slowly, uncertainty clear in them.

You run your hand through his hair, looking over his handsome face. "Take your coat off." you tell him gently. He follows what you ask. You rake your nails from his scalp to his neck, hands rubbing his shoulders and resting on them. "Apologize."

"I'm sorry." he says quickly.

You move back to his hair, feeling the thick softness and humming. "Do you think I'm weak Alfie?" your voice inflects upward.

"No of course not." he says earnestly.

"But yet you behave as if I am. That would make YOU the weak one wouldn't it? Only weak men try to control their women." you pout. "My Alfie isn't weak." you state harshly.

"It is not weak to admit what I need, love." he says with a deep voice, a subtle shake of his head.

You give him a subtle smile, a gentle pat to the cheek. "I'm going to teach you a lesson, Alfie. I don't think you're going to be happy about it." you purse your lips down at him. "But then again... you might." you shrug.

He takes a deep breath, starting to understand what you were doing. He wasn't sure about it but he was willing to keep his word that he'd do anything. "Do what you want. If it's to keep you I'll take it with a fuckin' smile if ya wish." he gives a confident nod of his chin up towards you.

"That's a good boy." you pat his cheek and run your thumb over his lips. "Not going to get you out of being punished though." you give a sly smile and turn from him to walk to a trunk that sat against a wall next to your armoire. You open the lid and stand and pick your nails as you hum in thought. "What to do... what to do..." you say in a melodic tone.

He watches you with curious eyes, trying to keep his face indifferent.

"Seeing as it's your first time..." you speak to yourself, reaching down to take a soft, woven rope from the trunk and a ribbon of satin. "Hurting you physically isn't what this is about." you say, walking over to him with a swing to your hips, a look of superiority on your face. "Isn't even about sex. Not really." you say with a nod, running your fingers through his hair and turning them into a fist, giving it a firm tug. "Everything in the world is about sex, except sex itself. Sex is about power." you tell him with a cold appearance, pulling his head back. "And you are a powerful man. But you're going to yield to me." you state flatly, leaning down closer to his face, hand yanking on his hair.

"I told ya, I'm yours." he answers. You could never deny that he wasn't a smart man. He could've been the smartest you knew and never short on cleverness.

"You are mine. Now get on this bed." you give a sharp nod, tugging him up by his shirt collar and sitting him down. "You're going to do as I say. You're going to listen." you bite your words at him, smacking his nose like a scolded pup. "You're going to prove to me you can. You're going to give me your power and I'm going to use you and punish you however I please. Do we understand?" you stand up straight as you speak and unbutton his shirt.

"Yes, love." he sighs out.

"No." you give a stern smack to his cheek. "No love, no darling, no pet names. You call me Miss until I tell you otherwise. You haven't earned calling me yours again. I'm not yours again yet." you speak low and concise at him, his eyes blinking rapidly to try to subdue his instincts to talk back. When he goes without speaking for too long you twist on of his nipples and he flinches. "Answer me." you loudly demand.

"Yes Miss." he grunts out, wanting to rub the spot of sudden impact but you're roughly yanking his sleeves off his arms.

"Kick off your shoes." you order, taking his shirt and picking up his jacket, laying it over the back of a chair. "Much better." you exhale out, nails raking down his bare arms. You untie the sash around your waist, letting your dressing gown fall open just slightly. You see his nostrils twitch, his eyes move down your body and you grab him firmly by the chin. "You don't get to watch me do these things to you. This body is mine, not the other way around. You don't get to gaze at this feminine form while you're being punished." you shake his chin and put the satin ribbon across his eyes. "Have you ever been blindfolded Alfie?"

"No Miss." he answers with clear disapproval to his voice.

"That's surprising," you say out loud in reflection. "Has a woman ever tied you up before?" you ask with a sweeter tone.

"No. Never wanted to be put in a vulnerable position." he forces out in a stubborn mumble.

You let out a dark chuckle at his expense. "I supposed you should've behaved and kept it that way then, hmmm? Because you're going to be vulnerable for me." you coo, bending over the bed and encircling his elbows and wrists pulled together with the soft rope. You preferred the harder, rougher rope yourself but you didn't want to leave visible marks on him after the fact. "Have you ever heard of Kinbaku?" you ask while forming the intricate patterns across his forearms.

"No." he says softly.

You bend his pinky back as he's already forgetting the rules.

"Fuckin', MISS, No. Miss." he rushes out.

"He's learning." you say in a patronizing tone. "It's the art of tight binding with rope. It's about the beauty in the art of restraint. I learned from a very knowledgeable woman during my time in Berlin." you explain, knotting his arms together, forcing his chest out and his back straight as he grunted. "This isn't some sailors knot you boys brought home. You won't be getting out this." he hears the threat in your voice. "Go ahead." you say with a humourous lilt and you stand in front of him, hands on your hips, opening your dressing gown to expose your naked body underneath. "Try." you challenge him.

He grunts, jaw tight and shoulders shifting almost falling onto his side in his attempt.

"See? Not going anywhere," you say condescend, bopping his nose. "And what good news for me." you let out a slow, deep laugh, spreading his knees and standing between them, letting your hands roam over his shoulders and down his arms slowly. "Truly a shame you have to have such an appetizing body when you have such a habit of poor behavior." you sigh and pout, fingers dragging down his stomach to the tops of his trousers. "All I want to do is love and fuck you Alfie I don't know why you can't just behave and let me do that without having to do things like this." your voice is whiny and lazy, reaching and twisting his nipples as he flinches and grunts. "Making me deny both of us. Making me take time out of my busy schedule to fucking train you like some dog." you knock his chin with the back of your hand. "And such a stubborn mutt." you scold, a smack to both his cheeks. You change your tone and touch to sweeter, lighter to begin overwhelming him. "But he is so handsome. Except for all that sneaking he's a good pup isn't he?" you run your fingers through his beard.

"I fuckin' try, Miss." he answers gruffly, his frustration evident.

"Try harder." you command, slapping his chest firmly, making him press his lips together. "If you want to keep me you'll try harder." You put your lips to his and speak. "I will not tolerate this machismo shit that you're trying to pull on me. I won't. I don't care if I fucking love you, I'll live without you out of spite. I've built my whole life around spite and don't think you're immune just because I love your stubborn arse." He feels the more heartfelt expression in your voice as you speak closely and harshly to him.

"So you would still love me?" he says softly, you back away, his lips parted just slightly as he waits for an answer.

"I will love you until the day I die, Alfie. But don't think that means you can do what you want and get away with it. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Miss." he whispers.

"You will ask me before doing these things. Even if it means a fight. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Miss."

"Because I would rather you tell me and then do it, over not telling me. It's the transparency I need, Alfie. I won't have secrets that could hurt us kept between us." you lift up his chin to your face. "It's a matter of my safety and yours now. This isn't some young love where the only effects of our lies are hurt feelings. It's life or death now. Like it was today. And we might not be so lucky next time. I know you understand that."

"I do, Miss."

"So can you promise to tell me things, even if they hurt me? Even if I want to hate you? Because if you tell me the truth I will be able to forgive you eventually. Unlike now."

"I will. I promise, yeah? I hate seein' ya upset."

"I do not need coddled Alfie. I've said this before. I am not a child, I am not naive. You tell me the bad. Not only the good. I can take it. I might scream and lash out but wouldn't you prefer that to me leaving you?"

"I'd prefer anyfing to that." he sighs out and you're touched by the soft tone.

"Then let your actions show it. I don't give second chances Alfie, and here I am. My daft, softened heart giving way for you to learn a lesson without forcefully breaking yours."

"Thank you, love -Miss." he winces and waits to be hit but it doesn't come. "I promise to keep in mind you are not a fragile little thing to keep guarded in a box."

"Is that how you truly want me, Alfie? To be a kept little porcelain figurine on your shelf with no personality, no ambitions but to sit and be beautiful?"

"No, I love that you're fuckin' mad." he shakes his head and you see a charming grin come across his face. You slap his face and it stays. He can't see the entertained look on your face.

"Don't push it you hound." he hears the amusement in your voice. "You don't want someone so easily broken do you?" you ask softly, sliding your leg up on the bed next to his.

"I do not." his voice dips low, keeping a grateful softness.

"And neither do I." you hiss, straddling his lap. "But I'm going to try to break you today." you graze your nose against his. "I'm going to tease and hurt you and you're going to do what I say because you want me happy don't you? Wasn't that what all this lying was about? To keep me happy?"

"It was, truly, love. When you're upset I feel like I've failed you somehow."

"Oh you sweet pup." you scratch into his beard. "You're going to make me very happy right now then aren't you? Be a good boy for me and perhaps I'll be good to you. IF you earn it."

"I am, Miss. I want ya to be good to me. I wanna be good to ya." he says earnestly.

"In time." you say happily, glad he can't see the smile on your face. You let your dressing gown fall behind you to the floor and press your bare skin against his chest. His chest rises and falls dramatically as he comprehends what's going on. "Now I want to tease you." you say, lifting your breasts and rubbing your hard nipples against his chest. "You can't touch me with your hands like this. All tied up like a present for me. I know you must hate that." you laugh softly. "Having to imagine what I look like, completely naked and rubbing against you like this." You lift your self and press your breasts to either side of his face and he groans, moving his face to nuzzle against them. You sit down hard on his lap and he groans in pain. "I didn't say you could do that." your voice turns darker again and he swallows loudly. "This is for me, not you." you inform curtly. You rise again, batting him about the face with your breasts, knocking his head from side to side. "You love these big tits of mine don't you Alfie?" you purr.

"I fuckin' do, Miss." he groans, licking his lips.

"What do you like about them?" you keep pressing them to his face, your arms around his head from time to time, smothering him in them and going back to teasing your hard nipples to his bare skin.

"What's not to fuckin' like? Can I be crude, Miss?" he asks.

"You are learning and I am impressed." you chirp. "You may." you give him a good scratch to the chin for his behavior.

"They're fuckin' huge, love. I just wanna fuckin' smother to death in 'em. And the weight of 'em against me is just... I fuckin' think about 'em all the time. Want my mouth on 'em to show you how much I want you. The way they bounce when I fuck you and you ride me... fuck. When you're cold at night and I pull you against me and feel those perfect little brown nipples hard against me. And fuck me, the noises you make when I suck on your tits, love, it makes me so fuckin' hard I can't think 'bout anyfing else." he lets out a long exhale.

"Keep talking like that and you'll be rewarded." you give him a single chaste kiss to the cheek. "You want them in your mouth?"

"Fuck, yes, love." his shoulders slump.

"Open your mouth." and he does as you command. "But DON'T you dare move your lips." you say, placing one of the hard peaks, tracing it around his lips and he pants, shoulder shifting as he wants to touch you. "I bet you wish those big paws of yours were free to pull me into your mouth don't you?" you purr.

"Yes, Miss" he groans.

"Too bad." you state flatly. "Stick out your tongue." you rub your nipple against the warm, wet surface and hum. "I do love it when you suck on these big tits Alfie. It makes me so wet." you whisper, a taunting smile on your face as you watch him try to not struggle against his bindings. You lower your hips down, taking them away from his mouth. "And it makes you hard doesn't it?" you state as you move your hips against his, feeling him growing beneath you.

"It does." he groans, his mouth and tongue stuck out searching for your skin.

"You want me to let that fat cock of yours out to play?" you whisper into his ear, dragging your tongue up the shell of it.

He groans with a clenched jaw. "Yes, Miss."

"So he does like this." you say cheerfully, fingers teasing under his waistband. "But have you earned getting to feel me against you?" you ask rhetorically as you rub him over his trousers.

"Let me." he rasps out.

"You're not in the position to be asking things of me." you scold, giving his hardening cock a slap and he hisses. "Just for that I'm going to tease you more." you announce proudly, making quick work of his trousers and pants and leaving him bare on the bed. "Now look at you. Not even your pants to give you any friction." you deign. "So let's make it worse." you smile, taking the blindfold off of him. "Hello there my blue-eyed dog." you give him a scratch to his chin.

"'Ello..." he slurs out, eyes looking over your naked body cause his cock to stir.

""ello?" you ask, a slap to the underside of his cock and he turns his head and winces.

"Miss. Bloody miss, 'Ello Miss." he grunts out and diverts his eyes.

"Better." you say harshly, taking your breasts again and hitting him in the face with them. His groans move from pained to pleasurable quickly as you make his pillowy lips pucker with the squeezing of his face. "Not perfect but what should I expect from a man?" you patronize and his face shows he doesn't care in the least. You pull away from him, leaning down as if you were going to put your mouth on his cock, but hesitating, letting your hard nipples graze up his thighs, dragging them up on either side of his cock, a brief wobble of your chest to tease before hitching a leg up to drag them up his chest. "Open your mouth again. Don't make me tell you not to move again." you hiss, once again tracing his lips and tongue with the stiff peaks, the contact and the power from his helplessness making you wet. "Such a gorgeous mouth, truly." you coo. "Now suck." you command. He doesn't pause for consideration, eyes closing and mouth enveloping your breast as much as he could, grunting into it, harsh rhythmic sucking, watching the muscles in his neck tense from his enthusiasm.  "What filthy whispers I've heard from them. Unfortunately also what lies." you tsk and pull them away, rising off of his body quickly, leaving him with fluttering lids and an open mouth.

You turn around, looking around the room for inspiration for a moment, you hear a familiar grunt as he wants to bury his face into your peachy arse. "I hear you back there." you smirk. "You like my arse too?" you ask with a cheerful tone, placing your hands on his knees, running yourself up against his balls first then feeling him rest between the valley of your arse.

"Yes, miss." he groans, you feel his thighs shifting beneath you.

"Is there any part of me you don't like?" you laugh, bouncing yourself against him, causing him to pat heavy against you as you did.

"No, miss." he whispers, nose twitching from the contact.

"Right answer." you say, bouncing your cheeks at him with your hands underneath them, before bending over slowly, no longer touching him, letting him get a view of you. He could see the glimpse of soft hair and pink lips between your thighs as you bent, and his cock twitched at the sight, balls tightening with need. "And do you love this cunt?" you ask with a sweet tone, reaching behind you to spread yourself apart in front of him.

"Unggg Yes, love - Miss." he corrects.

"Tell me." you say, running your hands over the swell of your ass and down your thighs.

"I fuckin' love that perfect little cunt of yours, Miss."

"Good boy." you say in reward, moving to a chair that sat not far from the edge of the bed, pulling it closer by bending over and backing towards him, giving him a good view. Out of reach, but close enough to see you, you spin and sit on the edge of the chair. You caress your chest and down your thighs, spreading them, kneading the soft flesh up to your center. Hitching a leg over the arm of the chair, you begin to tease around your lips. "Have you ever seen such a pretty little puss Alfie?" you ask with a smile, fingers now pressing against your slit.

"No Miss." he groans, eyes fixated.

"Such a soft and pink little thing isn't she?" you purr affectionately, looking down at yourself, fingers sliding between your lips, holding them open for him, causing him to groan. "And expert at taking your cock."

"Yes she is Miss" he groans, licking his lips.

"You are so lucky Alfie. To get the privilege to fuck such a well cared for and maintained cunt you know? I keep her tight and soft and wet for you don't I?"

"Yes Miss you do." he whines.

You begin to rub your clit, humming in pleasure, hips starting to shift back and forth. "You want it don't you?"

"Fuck yes I do miss." he pants.

You throw your other leg up, leaning back on full display. "I can tell from that cock of yours." you grin, biting your lip and continuing to rub, closing your eyes and giving him a show, moaning and shifting, rubbing fast then slow and back again. "I'm so wet, Alfie." you moan, opening your eyes to find him standing at attention for you, your give a few firm slaps to your center and he lets out a deep grunt. "You're licking your lips, do you want a taste?" you tease.

"Yes Miss." he nods, eyes not leaving you.

You slide your fingers inside you, a showy moan and throwback of your head. You stand quickly, strutting over to him and sliding your fingers into his mouth. "Taste it." you whisper, letting him suck your fingers, his tongue lapping away at them inside his mouth and let out a content hum of appreciation. "Good boy," you say, putting the wet fingers back between your legs and moaning. "Such a good boy." you rasp, throwing your leg over him again, a strong grab and slap to his hip before you take hold of his cock and slide it against your wet center.

His mouth drops open as he swears, lip twitching at the contact before his eyes swing back up to your face.

"I feel you throbbing for it." you taunt, sliding yourself against him.

"Yes Miss." he wheezes, lips hanging open and wet, eyes looking up at you.

"Look at you, panting for it with those puppy dog eyes." you hold his cheek with your free hand, grazing your nose against him. "Would you like a kiss, pup?" you ask softly.

"Yes, Miss." he nods.

"Such a soft thing." you purr before teasing him again, licks and grazes of your lips against his before giving in after taking in his strung-out face. When you let him kiss you, he moans. A moan into a kiss was something new and you were thrilled by the arrival of the deep noise, it meant your teasing was working. You give into for a bit, kissing back with tongue and teeth as he pushed against you, starving for more contact. Not having his arms free was extremely frustrating and that annoyance was only making his blood pump faster and make him want you more.

You rise off him to stand between his legs, keeping your kiss intact before hiving him a hard, tight tug and he grunts, breaking the kiss. "Too rough?" you ask with a tilt of your head, another hard tug from the base, jerking his hips forward.

"Mmmph."  he answers at first, hesitant to tell you now, fearing he might receive worse. "Yes Miss." he answers sheepishly.

"Oh he doesn't like a rough wank?" you taunt, giving him a few more and watching him wince. "Shame, that." you sigh. "Guess I'll have to be nice to this cock won't I?" you pout. "I'll need it throbbing hard to fuck me right, won't I?" you keep rubbing against him, drawing out a moan. "And I do plan on having you fuck me right, Alfie." you sigh out against his lips. The sound of his name makes him grunt, forgetting the rough grip on him already. "If you can be a good boy."

"I can Miss."

"You want to be a good boy?" you ask, letting him go, a playful pinch to his inner thighs before you turn and bend over again, reaching back to stroke him.

"Yes Miss."

"You want to fuck me?" you tease, rubbing his head against your wet slit.

He groans and shifts "Yes, miss."

"Then come get it." you say, letting him go, hands on your ankles in front of him. "Fuck me if you want to so badly." you say in a harsh, bossy tone.

You feel his legs try to move him in a way to get to you, scooting to the end of the bed but he can't get the leverage without his arms in use.

"Fuck me, Alfie. C'mon." you bounce your ass at him and laugh. "Oh can the poor pup not manage?" you pout, looking back at his red and drawn face. "Poor baby." you laugh, bouncing your ass at him with your hands. You turn back, moving quickly to straddle him, connecting in a kiss he didn't see coming. "You don't get to fuck me unless I let you. This cunt isn't yours, it's mine." you bite his lip. "But this cock." you nod and reach between your legs to wrap around him again. "This cock is mine. It doesn't go anywhere or do anything unless I give it permission. You understand?"

"Yes miss."

"Tell me it's mine." you growl

"It's yours miss." he sighs.

"And you. All of you. Is mine." you growl, rubbing yourself against him, your fingers light against the head of his cock. "Tell me." you demand, grabbing him roughly again.

"I'm yours. it's all yours Miss"

"You are mine. All mine." you coo, your switching of mean to sweet making his brow furrow as he tried to anticipate what you would do next but he didn't know and it made his heart race. "Do you want me to be yours, Alfie?"

"Yes, Miss."

"You want me to stay with you? Always? Do you want to keep this little cunny happy?"

"Yes love, please. Miss, yes."

"Do you need me Alfie?" you taut him with a soft voice.

"Yes, love, I need you. Miss." he rushes out, forgetting himself as he sees your body rising and falling in a serpentine fashion against him.

"Will you be a good boy and behave? Listen to what your misses says? Do as you're told?"

"Yes miss." he groans, voice more desperate.

"Are you going to act like the grown fucking man I know you are? Because that's what I want Solomons. A grown. Fucking. Man." you bite out against him. "I don't need a boy who lies. I want a man to face the consequences of his actions. One that will fuck me proper and love me even harder. Are you that man, darling?"

"Yes, love I am. I'll prove it to you. I love you, Gen and I'm mad about you. Let me show you, love. Let me keep you." his eyes are wide and you see the sincere feelings behind his words.

You lean in to kiss his flushed face. "Desperation for me does look so delicious in your eyes, Alfie." you kiss his cheek. "I won't leave you. You silly beast." you whisper into his ear, nuzzling against his face. "Not today anyway." you huff out a laugh. "Since you said please. And I am absolutely soaked and aching for your cock I suppose it's time to reward you for this good behavior." you run your tongue up the side of his face. "Does a good boy want his misses to fuck him?"

"Yes, fuck, please, Gen. Me balls are fuckin' purple from this, love."

"Does it hurt?" you say condescendingly.

"Yes, it fuckin' does love. I've never needed someone as badly as I do you right now." his voice is raspy and urgent and you give another lick to his lips, a happy groan from you.

"I'll let you inside me. But I'm taking what I need from you first. I'll be fucking you, not the other way around." you tap his nose in punctuation as you slide off him and onto the bed. "Come now. Use those sturdy legs." you instruct, grabbing his arms and hauling him up onto the bed. His wide eyes show his surprise for your strength and you give him a cheeky smile. You even give him pillows to let his arm lay in a less painful way as you push him down and straddle him.

Moving fast,  keeping him on his toes, you slide down onto him, his head falls back and he lets out an open-mouthed moan.

"That's what I want to hear." you purr, slapping your hands down onto his chest and starting a fast pace, bouncing yourself against him, a quick slap of skin, broken with grinding down hard on him, rubbing yourself against him. "Look at me love. Watch me take your cock." you say breathily, leaning back with your hands on his legs and riding him as hard as you could. His eyes are dark and half-lidded, watching himself pump in and out of you. Eyes wandering over your thighs as they slam into him, your tits bouncing and ribs shifting under your skin as your moans grow louder.

"Fuck, Gen I-

"DON'T YOU DARE FUCKING COME!" you shout, leaning forward and slapping him hard across the face. "Don't even fucking think about it. I'm coming all over this cock first. You can't come until I want you to. This cock is MINE." you growl, pounding him as hard as you can, holding his throat firmly. "Fuck me harder and make me come, Alfie. I want us both soaked to our thighs after I'm done with you. Make me come all over that fat cock, you dog."

He grits his teeth and prays, planting his feet as best he could and using his stomach to push back into your assault on his hips.

"That's it. Fuck me Solomons." your growl continues, one hand on his chest now, leaning back and rubbing your clit. "Show me this your cunny. Make it yours. Make me come." you demand, starting to lose the fight against the oncoming orgasm. Your hips falter and your nails dig into his skin making him hiss. Your eyes roll back dramatically heading falling back as you let loud, body folding moans up toward the canopy of the bed. "Good boy. Such a GOOD. FUCKING. BOY." you growl and shout, grinding against him as you snarl, eyes fluttering back open to meet his, yours looking black against your flushed face as they glared down at him. "Now if I untie you will you make me come again? Fuck me like a good boy, hmmm?"

"Yes, fuckin', GAH let me at you love, fuckin' christ." he squirms as you laugh loudly at his desperation.

"There's my man." you lean to bite his lip before swinging your leg off of him and rolling him to his front. "Don't struggle so much, or it'll hurt more." you say, your knowledgeable fingers working against the ropes as quickly as they could. He moans and groans into the bed as the grip loosens, his fingers moving again as you watching the veins pulse underneath his flushed skin. "Come now, on your back, slowly." you say, giving him a rub between the shoulder blades.

"Fuckin' 'ell." he grumbles rolling back over.

"Let them readjust first. Eager." you smirk and rub his shoulders.

"I'm gonna make that bossy little cunny mine as soon as me fuckin' arms work." he groans, a hint of playfulness in his voice at his inability to pounce.

"Good. That's what I want. A man who can take AND give." you whisper, licking your lips and rubbing his forearms. You place his hands on your breasts. "Play with them, it'll help." you wink and giggle, and he grabs them tightly, tighter than you thought he might be able to but you loved the thrill of it. He gives one a slap. "Oh! So rough." you taunt and grin.

"Gonna show you fuckin' rough." he growls, no tease in his voice now, only need. He grabs you and slams you face first into the bed. A hard slap to your arse first, followed by another, then you hear a hungry growl followed by a hard bite to the same area.

"C'mon you big dog, fuck me." you say, getting up on your knees.

Without a word he slaps over your slit, a stinging and not playful hit. He pushes into you, only breathing and wordless noises, he had embraced the beast you'd been calling him and let it out. Having been teased for longer than he ever had before, he needed a fierce release at your expense.

He comes at you hard, your brace against the headboard, hand wrapped around the edge as his nails make tiny rivulets of blood run down your thighs he holds you so tightly. You love this urgency you feel in him, this raw need you wanted to feel. You wanted it to hurt, to be hard and bruising to fuck the anger out of you.

He slaps your arse over and over, red and welting as he grunts and growls, a hard pounding into you. He scratches his way up your back, hand gathering your hair, making a messy fist of it to yank your head back, then pounding into you as he slapped your arse and thighs and held you up by your hair.

"Yes you fucking beast, make this cunny yours, Solomons." you cry out, eyes in the back of your head and your shame nowhere to be seen. "This is why I let you act like a fucking fool. Because you can do this. This is why I let you do this because you give me what I need. You're such a good fucking boy all red and angry, aren't you?" you demand and he pushes you down on the bed, his full weight on you. "Fuck yes, take me like a fucking beast, Alfie, yes." you cry out.

"Such a fuckin' slag for this cock, little Genny." his breath hot and heavy in your ear as he lets out every bit of negative emotion against you. "You aren't fuckin' leavin' me. You can't. You couldn't live without this cock you little fuckin' tart." he slaps your cheek, hand in your hair and pressing your face into the bed. "No one's gonna fuck you betta than me you fuckin' posh little cunt." he bites at you. "You ARE mine. You'll ALWAYS be mine. Do YOU understand?" he shouts and you nod and gasp, your mouth opening and shouting as his words brought on another orgasm. "That's it, pet, fuckin' come around your beasts cock. This what you want yeah? To treat me like an animal then get fucked like one? You filthy girl." he groans and shouts, losing himself as you squeeze around him. "Feels so fuckin good, little one, such a tight cunny for me and so fuckin' wet you little bossy bitch." he slaps your arse again and you squeal, he sees the unfiltered delight across your face. "Fuck me you are fuckin' filthy. You like those crude names, pet?"

"Yes, fucking tell me how bad I am." you moan, drooling out onto the bed.

"My perfect little misses like being called a dirty fuckin' slag? Fuckin' 'ell." he moans, resting his head against your back for a moment to catch his breath.

"I'm your Madonna and your whore, Alfie." you cry out helplessly. "Take this cunt, love, fill me up and make it yours."

"Gonna." he gruffs out, holding you down by your lower back, pounding into you, bringing on another orgasm at the new deep angle. "Again? So fuckin' hungry for it, pet." he scolds, a growing growl in his chest begins, and you're swimming in your own bliss inside your head, convulsing under him and being hit hard and heavy into. "Ah, fuck, Genny. Gonna have me drippin' outta you for fuckin' days with what you caused." he barks through gritted teeth, pushing into you as far as he could, his mouth opening and letting out a loud, wanton moan that caused you to shudder against him. "Fuck me." he pants out, dropping to his elbows first then letting his body rest on top of yours. You feel his heaving against you, and you hum contently, shutting your eyes. "Alright love?" he mumbles out against your sweat-soaked skin.

"Mmm Hmm." you nod. "Perfect." you sigh out. You stay there for a little while, catching your breath, enjoying the warmth of him against you, the weight making you feel safe and secure. His words making you feel satisfied with the punishment you gave and took.

He lifts himself off of you, arms shakey as he rolls to his back, legs limp and hands on his stomach. You move with a soft grunt, although slowly. "Covers, love." you manage out, pulling them down and he grunts and groans, letting you pull them out from under him without grace and cover you both back up.

"Feel like a bath is due now with what filth that was." he lets out a deep, lazy chuckle.

"What beautiful filth it was." you sigh, snuggling against him your happy expression and kitten like mannerism such a shock after what transpired.

"You really okay with what I called you?"

"That was the best hate fuck I've ever had and if we're angry you could call me almost anything and I'd be perfectly accepting of it. I like the pain and the punishment after giving it out. Exhausts me mentally and physically. It's what I need."

"And are you worn out, love?"

"Entirely." you hum.

"So you ain't mad now?"

"Not right now no."

"Have I found a way to keep you from fuckin' killin' 'n leavin' me?" he grins.

"Perhaps." you laugh and kiss his chest. "Just be honest with me. Fuck me right and be sweet afterward and we'll have no problems."

"So if we fight... we'll just have us a good hate fuck and work it out the old fashioned way?" he smirks, eyes shut and hand stroking your hair.

"Yes, sir." you giggle.

"Oh. Almost felt me cock stir on that one." he chuckles. "Can't wait for you to be naughty and have to tie you up and you call me 'at."

"Knowing me it will be sooner than later won't it?" you laugh and look up at him, his face at rest, a soft smile on his face.

"Yes it will my filthy little girl."

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[coffee-obsessed-writer]

New Year’s ‘85

Jim Hopper x Reader

A/N: This is my submission for @moonstruckhargrove 1K Writing challenge. My prompt was “I’m not going anywhere”. 

**I should note, this follows Christmas with Hopper & The Waffle Maker. Though I don’t think its 100% necessary to have read that first.**

Summary: After spending Christmas with Hopper and El, you thought your growing relationship with the Chief was going great, until he shows up late for your New Year’s Eve dinner with a rash of reasons it wouldn’t be good for you to be together. But before the clock strikes twelve, you’re determined to get him to open up tell you why.

Words: 5.8K

Warnings: Slight angst, some fluff, mild language, that’s about it

Forever Tags: @kazosa // @sorenmarie87 //  @lefthologramdeer // @rockyhorrorpictureshowstyle // @his-paradox // @letsby

All errors are mine. Unbeta’d and still new to writing Hopper, so please be gentle.

Since spending Christmas with Hopper and El, you and the Chief had been getting closer. It was slow moving, both of you very tentative in how to approach your growing feelings. Around the station, you both kept things completely professional. Even Finlay, who worked Christmas night, had no idea that you and Hopper were becoming more than colleagues after hours. In fact, only Flo noticed any difference at all.

It was New Year’s Eve and the Hawkins Police Department had been far busier than usual. Finlay and Powell had taken the holiday off, so Officer Callahan and the Chief were the only ones on duty. The drunk and disorderly calls started early in the day, then there were several car accidents after that. As the day drug on, you were certain you’d never get out of there. You were nervously chewing on the end of a pencil when Flo stopped in front of your desk, her glasses hung on by a thread at the end of her nose as she peered down at you with a sly grin.

“Got special plans for tonight?” she asked.

“What? No. Why?”

“You’re watching the clock something fierce today. Far more than usual.”

“Oh, well… I have a roast in the crock pot at home. Just hate to leave that thing going for too long, you know? Fire hazard and all that.”

“Mmhmm,” she mused, her lips pursed in disbelief. “Funny though, Chief was saying he needed to be back by a certain time tonight, too. I could be totally wrong but, I have to ask, any chance that’s due to you somehow? I see how he looks at you when no one is looking at him.”

Your heart stopped for a moment, and instead of immediately denying it, you hesitated which gave her the answer she already knew. Flo leaned further over your desk and lowered her voice. “Well, I won’t pry, but having a nice girl like you in his life would be a good thing. Can you just do me one favor? Be sure to throw a vegetable into that man’s meal once in a while, would ya? He just blows me off when I voice concern over how he takes care of himself.”

You stifled a laugh while nodding. “I’ll do my best.”

She gave you a sly wink before heading off back to her desk. Shaking your head, you returned to the work in front of you. Transcribing police reports and typing them up had become tedious and you were just ready to go home and get cleaned up for your dinner with the boss.

The phone on your desk started ringing, so you pushed the reports aside and answered. “Hawkins Police Department, how can I assist you today?”

“You can start by telling me are still on for dinner,” the Chief’s voice came through the receiver, low and raspy, making your stomach flip flop like it did every time he walked into the room.

“Yes, that’s affirmative,” you replied, trying desperately not to grin like an idiot.

“Good. Because after this day, I want to put my feet up, eat some hot food I didn’t have to microwave and wrap my arms around—No! Dammit… C’mon Callahan! You gotta… no! You gotta cuff him from behind…” He shouted away from the receiver, then growled in frustration before he was talking to you again. “Jesus Christ. I’ll call you right back, ok?”

“Sure thing,” you chuckled and hung up when the line went dead.

He never did get a chance to call back, which was mildly disappointing, but the rest of the day seemed to fly by thanks to the flood of calls that did come in. Each one described in fantastic and varying detail some sort of light in the sky over the site that used to be Hawkins Lab. They were coming in so fast, one after the other, you didn’t even have a chance to dispatch out to Hopper or Callahan before they came back to the station.

The calls finally calmed down about ten minutes before your shift was over, and right before Hopper and Callahan returned with several additions for the drunk tank in tow.

“Its crazy out there today,” he groaned, shaking off the snow that had started to fall. “How’s it been around here?”

“Busy. I was just about to try and get you on the radio. Calls keep coming in about some lights in the sky. People are losing their minds.”

“Lights? What are you talking about?” he asked, taking the slips of paper with the calls on them from you, letting his fingers linger against yours. It was subtle, but it didn’t go unnoticed by you at all. “Like, fireworks? It is New Year’s Eve. I imagine some dumbass kids will try to light some off somewhere.”

“They said it looked like the clouds were on fire over the Hawkins Lab site,” you said, but stopped after you saw the look that registered on his face.

“What did you say?” he retorted in a voice that barely broke a whisper.

“Its right there on the sheets. The last call in said it looked like the clouds were on fire—”

“Over Hawkins Lab?”

“Mhm.” You waited for Callahan to pass behind the Chief after having dumped the drunks in one of the cells and leaned in a little closer. “What’s wrong? You look like you saw a ghost.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” he mumbled. “I… I’m gonna check this out. Come here for a minute,” he said and lightly took you by the arm, walking you down the hallway towards the rear exit of the station and out of the back door.

The cold air hit you and immediately made you shiver. Without thinking he took off his blue Sherriff’s jacket and draped it over your shoulders. It was quiet, and the snow was falling softly around you, the only light was coming from the old, yellowed bulb burning over the back door.

“I have to go check this out, but I want you to keep it between us, alright? We’ve had… problems in the past with the Lab and, uh, I just don’t want to freak anyone out. Okay?”

“Yeah, sure Chief, whatever you need.”

“Thanks. And I thought we talked about this Chief crap,” he teased, narrowing his eyes at you.

“We are at work, you never know where there are prying eyes or ears,” you shrugged and thought about Flo spying on you from a window somewhere.

“Well, if there are spies, they are about to get an eyeful,” he teased lowly, and bent down to kiss you lightly on the lips.

Despite the bite in the air, his lips were warm, and you loved how his mustache tickled your face whenever he kissed you.

“You sure that’s a good idea at the station, Chief?”

He rolled his eyes at your use of “Chief” again but bit his lower lip and took both your shoulders in his large, inviting hands.

“I might be late for our dinner,” he said, rubbing your upper arms to dispel the chill.

“That’s ok. Do what you have to. Dinner will keep, I just hope that come midnight…” you trailed off and shrugged, giving him a look of longing to accompany it.

“Come midnight, I was sort of hoping that we’d be doing something else entirely,” he mused and raised a suggestive brow. “But, until then, why don’t you get out of here for the night. I’d rather you be home, safe, before the snow gets bad. El is with Joyce Byers tonight, she’s having some kind of party for the kids, so I’ll come by as soon as I check out these calls, okay?”

“Yeah,” you replied tenderly, “that sounds good to me.”

“Go on, get back inside before you freeze,” he grumbled and directed you back towards the door.

You slipped off his coat and handed it back to him before going back to your desk. “See you before midnight?”

“That is definitely my plan,” he said, and as he put his coat back on, beneath his beard grew the smile of a man who seemed genuinely excited.

“Be careful, please?”

He shook his head slightly at your concern and simply tipped his hat once before turning to leave.

  The pot roast smelled amazing, the potatoes were silky and flavorful, and the handmade biscuits were rising to perfection. It was going to be the best meal you’d ever made, and you were beyond excited to finally have Hopper over at your place for dinner… just the two of you. If he would just get there already. It was getting closer and closer to midnight, and your hopes of a New Year’s Eve date were beginning to fade.

Maybe there had been something going on at the lab site, and he got wrapped up. It had happened before. Sometimes things happened in Hawkins, especially over the last two years and it would be brushed off or explained away, but they were odd happenings; the explanations given for them by the military, even stranger.

Shaking the thoughts away, you didn’t want to start to worry needlessly. You thought of calling the station but calling to randomly ask if the Chief was around may look suspicious, and you didn’t want to stir up any necessary trouble. Pacing the floor, you paused at the phone several times, even picking it up to make sure the dial tone worked.

Nervously chewing on your nails, the clock on your mantel struck eleven, just as a pair of headlights swept across your living room window. Seeing it was the Chief’s truck, you sighed in relief and ran to the door to open it. Even through the snow was still falling, you could see him sitting in the front seat; his head bowed, his hands tightly gripping the steering wheel. Finally, he must have felt your eyes on him, because he picked up his head and slowly made his way out of the truck.

“I’m sorry I’m so late, and didn’t call,” he said once he approached, but made no move to come inside. He seemed off; you couldn’t tell if he was upset or nervous, but either way this wasn’t the same guy that kissed you behind the police station a few hours earlier.

“Its okay, are you alright? Was there something going on at the old lab site?”

He shrugged it off and was struggling with what to say.

“Look, I… I can’t stay after all,” he started, then mumbled a swear under his breath. He wouldn’t meet your eyes either, making your stomach flutter, but not in the way it had earlier when he called you. This wasn’t a good feeling at all.

“Come on inside for a minute, its freezing. Warm up by the fire and you can expl—”

“No, I can’t. I can’t stay. There’s just a lot—(Y/N) getting involved with someone from work…” he trailed off. With his thoughts scattered, his expression and body language screaming of frustration, you had no idea what was going on but you were starting to get mad.

“Why? What’s changed over the last few hours?” you asked, trying not to get too upset or spiral into ranting of your own.

“Nothing. Just thinking…”

“Bullshit. What happened, Jim?!” His head snapped up at your use of his first name, his jaw slacked open in surprise. You crossed your arms over your chest and leaned against the open front door, hoping he would just come inside to talk to you. “Please, just… come inside for a minute at least.”

He growled lowly, the internal argument he was having, clearly written all over his face. “Just for a minute.”

 Once inside, Hopper removed his coat and laid it over the back of the chair. The room was filled with the smell of the fireplace and dinner warming in the oven. You noticed that he picked up on the scent as his eyes drifted towards the entrance of the kitchen.

“So, what happened? When I saw you at the station, things were fine. What happened out at the lab site?”

“Its not about that,” he said unconvincingly. “There’s just a lot that you don’t know. A lot I don’t necessarily want to dredge up…”

You dropped to the couch and sighed. “Please just tell me. Whatever it is--”

“It’s not that simple, (Y/N). Things are okay now, but before, they were very, very complicated. Very NOT okay. Life had just gotten back to normal right before Christmas. Then, you came along and, I didn’t expect or want that.”

You felt a punch to your gut. What happened between you and the Chief on Christmas had felt special, and the way Hopper had kept pursuing you after made you think it was for him, too. And El; at least so you thought. His sudden change in demeanor towards you made you angry and incredibly sad. It was over before it even got started and you felt it was unfair of him, at least without a reasonable explanation.

“Is this about El?” you asked softly, thinking that it must be; because really, what else could it be?

He was quiet. “I don’t know how to answer that. It is, and it isn’t. Look, I told you, its complicated. I won’t burden you—”

“Oh, fuck that, Hop! Why can’t you just say what it really is, huh? Something happened, someone else came along, I don’t know what… but whatever it was in the last five hours that went down, just tell me… you changed your mind and don’t like me that way. Fine. But say so! Don’t try and give me the ‘it’s complicated and I won’t burden you’ bullshit!”

“God… dammnit,” he mumbled and sat next to you on the couch. He took off his Sherrif’s hat and toyed with the brim of it, his head hung to his chest.

“What?”

“I wish it were that simple,” he replied. “The problem here, (Y/N), is that I do like you,” he paused and groaned at his choice of words. “Jesus Christ, you spend a few minutes with teenagers and I start to sound like one,” he mumbled to himself before continuing his thought. “I really like spending time with you and so does the kid. What I meant was, I didn’t want someone in my life. I wasn’t looking for it. El, she was enough. Her and I are trying to find our footing together, as a real family. But you surprised me. Christmas, surprised me.”

“So, then what changed? Please, just tell me,” you leaned over and took the hat from him, leaving it to your side on the couch. You grabbed his hands in yours, though they could barely contain his, and squeezed them.

“If I tell you everything, it could put you in danger somehow.” Hopper dared to catch your gaze, and his normally stoic blue eyes were overcome with worry. “I’d never forgive myself.”

“What danger? Please, don’t make me torture you to extract information. Don’t worry about my safety. I am grown woman who has been taking care of herself since she was sixteen. I can handle whatever you have to throw at me.” Letting go of his hand, you brought your fingers to his cheek and softened your smile. “I like you, Jim. I like El. If it really isn’t a matter of how you feel about me, then please… tell me. I promise you, I’m not going anywhere.”

He searched your face for any trace of a lie. When he found none, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You got any liquor? Beer? Anything? This is going to require a drink.”

“Yeah, sure.”

After grabbing a couple beers from the fridge, you came back into the living room and found him standing by the fireplace. He was looking at the pictures you kept of your family on the mantle, but never saw in person anymore.

“Here,” you said, holding out one of the bottles.

“Where’s your tree?” he asked absently.

“What?”

“Your tree… Christmas decorations. Did you take them down already?”

“No,” you said and took a swig of your bottle. “I didn’t have any up. Not a huge fan of it, to be honest.”

“But, you brought all that stuff to my house…”

“Its different when you have someone to celebrate with, Hopper.”

He registered the flash of emotion that welled in your eyes and seemed to have a moment of realization. He simply nodded in understanding and slowly walked back to the couch.

“I, uh, had a family once. Married--little girl,” he paused, and looked to you as if he hoped you already knew so he wouldn’t have to go through it again.

“I know…Flo told me when I first started at the station,” you spoke softly and cast your eyes to the ground. “I’m so sorry.”

“Then you can imagine when El came into my life, being a dad again wasn’t exactly on my radar. I got real used to being the lonely, grouchy guy. It was hard, not to be that anymore.”

“Sure, that makes sense.”

He guzzled half the bottle and used his tongue to wipe the bit of suds on his lip. “El, isn’t a normal kid. She’s had one hell of a life before she came to live with me. Her parents, well—” he just shook his head and sighed deeply. “She was treated like a lab rat. Experimented on at that fucking place. She grew up there, locked in a room and put through these awful tests…”

His voice caught in his throat as he tried to describe the experiments they had performed on her. He was being slightly vague, and as you sat and listened, disgusted with the procedures and trials that were performed on this beautiful, sweet kid, you wondered what they were trying to achieve. Though, you didn’t dare ask.

“How did she come to be with you? How did you get her away from that?”

“I didn’t really. She ran away, and I found her. I hid her for a while until things settled down,” he said with a shrug. “There’s more, so much more, but… tonight when I went out to the lab, it all sort of came rushing back. Everything she’d gone through—we’d gone through—to get her away from there, to put a normal life back together…”

He was trailing off, not making sense again. Hopper realized you were getting lost in his ramblings and slammed back the rest of his beer. Without saying another word, he got up and went to the fridge, returning with two more beers. He sat back on the couch, this time close enough that your knees were touching.

Hopper opened his drink and held it up to yours, clinking the bottles together just as the clock chimed half past eleven.

“Nothing happened out there tonight. It was what I thought, just some dumb ass teenagers setting off fireworks. But on the way back I got a call on the radio. Joyce needed me to get to her place, because El was having a bad night. After all this time, she still has bad nights. I went there to get her, make sure she was alright. Something triggered her to panic, and when she panics…” he inhaled deeply and slowly shook his head side to side, “it can get dangerous.”

“Is she alright? Where is she now? If she needs you, go. This can wait.”

A hint of a smile was on his lips has he patted your knee in reassurance but left his hand there; not that you minded.

“She’s alright. Once we talked, she decided she wanted to stay. Joyce knows how to help her, how to calm her down if she needs it.”

“Oh,” you said, feeling a slight pang of jealousy. You knew he was close to Joyce Byers, they’d known each other since high school, but that didn’t stop you from being a little envious of her closeness to the Chief.

“(Y/N), I panicked. Being at the lab again, seeing my kid having a hard time… it got to me. It had been calm enough that I sort of forgot, you know? That the threat was there. That it will always be there.”

“Threat? What threat?” you asked, but he didn’t hear you, he just kept talking, but more to himself than to you.”

“The whole drive over here I couldn’t help but worry what you would think or say if I told you everything, would you even believe me? Hell, I barely believed it. But it happened. Then, if I did, what could it do to your life? I won’t fuck up someone else’s life. Not like this.”

“Hey, relax. I still don’t get how it would be dangerous, or affect my life, Hop. I’m trying to understand, I am, but I just don’t see how—”

“Do you remember Bob Newby?” he asked suddenly.

“Um, yeah. I remember the name. He was a townie, right? Worked at the Radio Shack I think.”

“Yeah, him. I knew him from school; grew up with the guy. He was dating Joyce for a while, before he ended up dead in that lab.”

Your heart stopped for a moment. You didn’t remember hearing anything about his death. “Recently?”

“Recent enough, just past Halloween. The papers won’t report it. Certainly, won’t hear about it on the news,” he lowered his voice as if some unknown ears were listening, “but I was there and saw it with my own two eyes, (Y/N). I watched this man, who was there to help his girlfriend and her kid, get torn apart by these things that shouldn’t exist.”

Goosebumps broke out across your arms despite the warmth of the fire burning not even ten feet away. The house was suddenly quiet, only the sound of your shaky breath and the crackle of the fireplace could be heard.

“Wh—what?” your throat was dry, not even the beer helping to rectify that. “What did you say?”

“You heard me. God, it’s a long, long story, but what happened at that lab ended in blood. A lot of blood. The military tried to cover it all up. What happened to Will Byers, and, you remember that funeral for Barbara Holland? She was their victim, too.”

“Jesus,” you whispered. “I had no idea. How—how did they get away with all this?”

“They didn’t really. I don’t know, its all still so unsettled to me. But you can see why telling you, puts you in danger. I don’t want that for you. I don’t want to see someone I care about ripped apart or targeted by some shady ass military just because you’re dumb enough to like me.”

He leaned back against the couch and rubbed his free hand over his face. You weren’t getting the entire story, and you thought maybe it wasn’t that he didn’t want to tell you, but couldn’t. El wasn’t the only one who had suffered trauma, Hopper had too, but a man like him would never admit that. He was the strong one, the Police Chief; the guy you go to with the problems, not the guy WITH the problems.

“Look, I can’t pretend to understand everything. What you’ve told me is incredible and terrifying. You and El, you’ve been through something horrific, the Byers family, too. I heard you were there for them during their ordeal while Will was missing. Then to know it was way more than that… no one should have to deal with that alone. I may not have been there, but I can be here for you, now. You just can’t shut me out or try to push me away.”

Hopper’s hand fell away from his face and he turned to look at you. Inhaling deeply, he placed his beer bottle on the table beside him, then took yours from your hand and added it with his. A moment later, he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you into him.

His embrace felt safe and warm; even with the chill of what he had told you still in your veins, you knew no matter what happened, you’d be safe with him. You felt his lips press against the side of your hair and closed your eyes to revel in the growing magic of his touch.

The clock over the mantle chimed its short alert for a quarter till midnight. “I’ll be so glad when this year is over,” he mused, but you felt him hold you tighter. “I’m sorry that I came here the way I did. I wasn’t sure how you would take any of this. Hell, that’s not even all of it—”

“Jim,” you interrupted and pushed off his chest to sit up straighter on the couch next to him. “Whatever happened, whatever other terrible things happened because of that horrible place, I will listen to and try to process whenever you’re ready to talk about them. But when you want too, doesn’t have to be tonight.”

“You know,” he sat up with a slight groan of weariness, “there’s something about the way you call me Jim… I can’t tell if you want to kiss me or slap me,” he teased.

For the first time that night, you felt a genuine smile grow. “Maybe a bit of both.”

“They’re all in my life now. You get that, right? El, Joyce, Will, even the other kids. What we went through there, that’s never going to leave us.”

“I get that. But do you get that I like you, right? A lot. That day in the market on Christmas Eve when I saw you digging through those waffles… I don’t know, something happened. A flip got switched and I just sorta fell for you. Every day since then I’ve been trying to figure out what was different. What made that day different over any of the others in the few years I’ve known you.”

“Did you ever figure it out?” he asked, an amused grin on his lips and twinkle in his eyes.

“I think so, at least part of it is seeing you with her. Watching and hearing you talk about her, you get this expression on your face that just lights you up. When you were dancing with her on Christmas, spinning her around, I don’t believe I ever enjoyed a moment more in my life than I enjoyed watching that. You’re a special man, Jim Hopper, and I wish you could believe that. I’m not scared of what you told me. I’m only scared you don’t want to at least give this a try. I’m not easily frightened off.”

“That so?” he asked, his demeanor returning more to the Hopper you had gotten to know and not the one that showed up at your house almost an hour ago.

Hopper stood up from the couch and walked over to the radio that sat on top of the television. He scanned the channels until he found a tune he recognized and turned back around. “I Can’t Help Myself” by the Four Tops was playing and Hopper started to dance subtly at first, all the while keeping his gaze on you and a dopy, sort of love-sick smile on his face.

“If this doesn’t scare you away, nothing will,” he teased, then danced your way and grabbed your hand, pulling you off the couch. “Come on, it’s almost midnight and we’ve missed most of our date,” he held out his hand which you happily took and squealed a little as he tugged you into him and holding you tight, so you didn’t fall over.

“Where did you learn moves like that, Hop?”

“Had to figure out someway to impress girls back in the day,” he said with a chuckle.

As he moved you around the room to the song, though you were smiling and laughing with him, you still felt slightly uneasy about how he showed up at your house. What if he would get scared again, but this time it was after you’d really fallen in love with him and with his daughter? You wanted that, you wanted to be apart of their lives and maybe even one day, their family. But the uncertainty and worry clung to you, not allowing you to fully enjoy the moment.

“I’m not some clingy, nervous person, Hopper,” you said unexpectedly. “I’m not someone who needs constant reassurance, normally. I’ve been independent my whole life. When my mother insisted that I get married and start a family instead of having a career, I left home. I never once let my happiness rest on someone else, or in someone else. Understand?”

His eyes narrowed down on you curiously, but he nodded all the same. “I do.”

“Having said that, I have to ask, are you sure I’m what you want? You said you weren’t looking for anyone, you had enough with taking care of El, getting her acclimated to a new life.”

“I wasn’t looking at all. Hell, a new girlfriend wasn’t even on the radar. I hated the idea of coming here to push you away, but its what I scared myself into thinking what was best. I’m glad you called bullshit, that you didn’t give up on me. That’s what I need in my life. Just so happens it comes from a pretty damn beautiful woman, who, for whatever reason, likes me.”

“Just a little,” you teased, holding up your fingers to show an inch.

The song ended and just as the DJ began talking excitedly about the new year. After a minute or two of the DJ’s incessant babbling, the clock began chiming midnight. On the radio, the countdown begun with the sound of a cheering crowd in the distance. In your living room, Chief Jim Hopper of the Hawkins Police Department, took you in both of his arms and slightly dipped you back as your arms hooked up and around his neck.

“Three, two, one…” he rasped with a cheeky smile. “Happy New Year, (Y/N).”

“Happy New Year, Hop,” you replied and didn’t wait for him to kiss you. Bringing your mouth up to his, you nearly melted against him as he instantly parted your lips and engulfed your tongue with his.

The few times you had kissed him since Christmas, none of them felt like this. He was a surprisingly good kisser, that you knew, but you weren’t really prepared for how sexy he could be doing so, nor how this big, grizzly bear of a man could be so gentle at the same time. Not wanting the moment to end, you let yourself get swept up in him, releasing any fears or inhibitions and allowing the Chief to bear down on you, and claim you as his own.

He walked you back towards the couch, never taking his lips off yours. He turned you around, so he fell to the couch with a thud, pulling you down onto his lap. Leaning you back so your head rested on the throw pillow propped up on the arm of the couch, Hopper hovered over you, his intentions clear through the desire you saw in his eyes. You gazed up at him, silently pleading with him to kiss you again, but he just stared at you intently.

“Stay,” you whispered. “Stay the night with me.”

“What would your neighbors think? The Chief’s truck outside your place, all night long?”

You shrugged. “I don’t care if you don’t.”

“Do I look like a man who gives a shit what most of these yahoos think?”

“Nope,” you smiled and kissed him again.

This time, his hand ran roughly down the length of your body, down to your thigh and squeezing tightly. A low rumble emitted from his chest as he considered your offer to stay. “You sure you want me to? It’s a small town, everyone’s gonna know you’re sleeping with the Chief.”

“They probably already think that. I mean, Flo does.”

“No shit,” he laughed. “No wonder she kept winking at me today. I thought maybe she was getting sweet on me after all this time.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, then covered his bearded cheek with your hand. “I’m serious. I want you to stay. I still have dinner in the oven, and I would certainly love to cook you breakfast in the morning.”

You pulled yourself up from laying across his lap and grabbed his hat off the end of the couch, placing it crookedly on your head, tipping it down and giving him your sexiest smile and wink.

“Well, when you put it like that… I think I could stay. Especially if you promise to wear the hat later. Looks damn good on you.”

“Deal. So, that’s a yes?” you asked, just to be sure, so your hopes wouldn’t be dashed again.

“I’d be stupid not too. You sure that you’re ready for all of this,” he motioned vaguely at himself and into the air. “Its gonna come with baggage, late nights, sporadically missed dinners, and a very unique and occasionally moody almost teenage girl. Not to mention, being the Chief’s girlfriend will most likely catch you some grief in town. Those old timers like to talk.”

“Your girlfriend?” your heart started to pound, and your desire to get closer to him as maddening. “Is that what I am now?”

“If you can forget everything I said when I showed up here, yeah. I think I’d like that a lot.” He wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, his fingers pulled up the back of your shirt and rested them on your skin. “Nice way to start off the New Year. And the kid, she’ll be really happy.”

“Will she?” you asked, feeling hopeful that you could become a good friend to his daughter.

“When I stopped at Joyce’s tonight, she asked if I was supposed to see the waffle maker. When I told her yeah, that’s when she decided she wanted to stay at the party. She didn’t want me to miss our date.”

“I might cry,” you chuckled, and swiped at the few stray tears that fell.

“It’s partially what freaked me out. She’s already so attached to you, and honestly, so am I.”

“The feeling’s mutual, for both of you.”

Hopper gripped you tightly and lifted you with him when he stood up from the couch. He picked you up and slung you over his should, making you break out into a fit of laughter.

“What are you doing?!” you squealed and playfully smacked his back to put you down.

“Taking my new girlfriend to bed, that’s what,” he growled and playfully smacked your ass. “It’s a brand-new year, gonna kick 1985 off the right way!”

As he carried you off down the hallway and to your bedroom, neither of you heard the walkie talkie come to life in the pocket of the coat he had left in the living room. The static blared for a second before Callahan’s voice broke through muffled and excited.

“Chief! Chief! You there? I got something you might wanna see!”

Tags are open for any future Hopper fics, just send me an ask if you wanna jump on them!

[huntertales]

Part One: If Only I Had a Heart. (Heartache S08E03)

Episode Summary: While trying to track down Kevin, the Winchesters and the reader get sidetracked by a series of murders where the victims have gotten their hearts ripped out. One killer is captured, but things become even more complicated for the trio when they find their killer in a trance, mumbling an ancient prayer they can’t decipher. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 6,103.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

“You’ve been back for how long and now you finally decide to call me?”

You could tell by the tone of Josh Carver’s voice that he was pulling your leg in his infamous sarcasm you didn’t find the least bit funny today. You felt the need to give him an apologetic smile at how bad your timing was on these sort of things. You’d been trying to get back into the swing of things after regaining your own memories and getting up to speed with what you had missed out on, including the demon tablet business that had been weighing on your mind.

But right as you were about to take some time out of your day to call up your old friend, that's when Crowley decided to steal the tablet and Kevin ran off with his mother. The three of you tried looking for the Tran family, yet you had no luck. So you decided to kill two birds with one stone and ask some help from your best friend.

You thought he’d be a bit spooked to see an incoming call from a new number, let alone the face of a person who was supposed to be dead for the past two years when you decided to video chat with him on the phone. (Which thing that apparently you could do, thanks for the help from Sam.) He seemed overjoyed at the sight of you when he picked up on this early afternoon. It was you who was taken back at his calm and casual attitude you weren't expecting. Which you then learned about the small detail about how Dean called up the man after he bumped into you back at the college in Michigan to see if he knew anything about this. Now you felt like you were the one left with egg on your face.

"You look good." You complimented the man as you took a moment to examine him for the first time. Josh still looked about the same since the last time you saw him. A little older around the eyes and his beard a bit more bushier than you remembered, but he seemed happier than he had been in a while. "I'm sorry about your grandparents, by the way. The boys told me about what happened."

“Thanks, Y/N. I’ll admit, it still hurts. But I’ve had time over the past few years to process. I keep telling myself they’re in a better place together.” Josh said. His way of thinking made you smile, this time, with genuine happiness. You’d known his grandparents since you were four years old and moved to Y/H/S. Losing them was like losing a pat of your own family. Josh leaned forward into the camera slightly as he examined the scenery around you. "Where the hell are you?"

“Farmer’s market.” You explained to the man. You were trailing behind the brothers while Sam shopped around for some local produce while Dean was engrossed in his phone, reading some article he found. You passed by people while keeping your attention to the man you were talking to. “How have things been for you?”

“Oh, you know. Boring. Nobody calling me up and asking me to do a favor about the creepy and crawly. Or a demon asking to make a deal with me." Josh jokingly said. You still found yourself rolling your eyes as your smile grew even wider. "Speaking of which, how have you been? Feels like it’s been two years since I heard from you. Oh wait...it has!”

"I hate you so much. You know that, right?" You told the man, Josh shrugged his shoulders. "I'm good. Honestly. Feels nice to be back in the swing of things. Be myself for a change. But I've been busy. And there was another reason why I called. Which wasn’t the main reason why. It's nothing of serious matter...well, it kind of is. Kind of dealing with demons and missing prophets."

"Another lovely adventure for our hunters, Y/N YL/N and the Winchesters. What's going on?" Josh asked with curiosity. He broke into a smile, already wanting to know what kind of help you were going to ask from him. You suddenly grew hesitant about asking him for help after all the trouble you had caused the man not too long ago. Josh seemed to sense why you had grown all quiet. "Y/N, I owe you my life for what I did to you. Ask and you shall receive, my friend."

"Well let's just say I've got a prophet and his mother in the wind and Crowley has something that we spent forever trying to track down. If he gets his hands on the kid then who knows what will happen." You explained to the man best as you could without admitting details out to the public. Josh seemed rather curious at the details alone. "Do you mind helping me out by keeping an eye on things? We just spent a week chasing our tails.”

"Helping my best friend out with all things supernatural and sticking it to the king of hell? Let me think about that." Josh pretended to do just that, making you give him a look from how annoying he could be. "Send me an email of all the details. I’ll get back to you soon as I can once I got a system set up. Because, unlike some people, I still have a full-time job.”

You smiled in appreciation and mumbled a goodbye to Josh after thanking him for the hard work he willingly was about to do. You ended the call and shoved the phone back into your pocket to try and catch up with the brothers who were farther up ahead than you realized. Sam was eating an apple and examining some fresh vegetables while Dean was reading an article that he found. Everything was as you left them after you took a few minutes to see how Josh was doing. You squeezed yourself in between the boys to make your presence known.

“Wow. Guy goes to purgatory for a year, all hell breaks loose. Check this out.” Dean said. You leaned over slightly try and read some of the article he was reading that engrossed his attention so much. "A jogger in Minneapolis gets his heart ripped out."

“I’m guessing literally?” You presumed the direction of where this was going.

“Only way that interests me.” Dean said. You scoffed quietly at his strange sense of humor while listening him continue on with the story that even got weirder. "And then, there's another article from six months ago. Same things happens, also in Minneapolis. What does that tell us?”

"Stay out of Minneapolis." Sam guessed. He was distracted to what his brother was saying. He didn’t think too much about the coincidences as he picked out a vine of tomatoes and handed over a few dollars to the friendly woman working the stand.

"Two hearts ganked, same city, six months apart. I mean, that's got to be a ritual, man. Or at least some sort of a heart-sucking, possessed, satanic, crack-whore bat." Dean went off, listing all sorts of presumptions that made you and his brother look at him with a funny expression. "It's a case. Look, I say we hang out the shingle again and ride."

“We’re on a case, Dean.” Sam told his brother with a mouth full of his chewed apple. “Kevin and the demon tablet need to be found, so heart guy takes a number.”

“Uh, we just spent a week chasing our asses trying to lock Devin down, okay? And look at us. We’re--” Dean finally looked up from his phone screen after stepping out of the Impala. He felt his face scrunch up in confusion at the sight of several stand tso many different stands around him with people walking around, examining fresh produce. "Where the hell are we?"

"Farmers' market. Organic stuff. I know you haven't touched a vegetable in your lifetime, but i'm pretty sure you could identify one." You sarcastically implied as you gestured around the place all of you had been at for quite some time now. "Honestly, it wouldn't hurt for us to actually include some healthier stuff in our diet. We’re not exactly getting any younger.”

Now it was Dean's turn to look at you and his brother with a baffled expression. You weren't sure if it was because of your suggestion to change up his diet, or the fact that his brother was spending the afternoon at such a hippie environment Dean would never be caught dead in. Either way, you rolled your eyes and shook your head. "What? I had a year off." Sam defended himself against his brother's judgmental stare. "I took the time to enjoy the good things."

“While avoiding doing what we actually do.” Dean muttered, holding up his phone to subtly hint at the case his brother had nonchalantly dismissed just a minute ago.

“Wow, Dean, does it make you feel that much better every time you say it?” Sam asked. You could tell this conversation wasn’t heading in any direction helpful to Kevin or the victims. It was always about unresolved emotions between the two brothers they subtly fought back and forth about.

“All right, man, look, I get it. You took a year off to do yoga and play the lute, whatever. But I’m back. Okay, we’re back, which means that we walk and kill monsters at the same time. We’ll find Kevin. But in the meantime, do we ignore stuff like this?” Dean asked his brother as he held up his phone to the article he was reading. “Or are innocent people supposed to die while you shop for produce?”

You could tell by Sam’s expression that he was a bit hesitant to jump on board with the idea. But lucky for you and the boys, you already had a plan to keep him from backing out. “Actually, I had a pretty successful talk with Josh.” You spoke up. “I told him about Kevin. He’d be willing to keep an eye out on things while we hunt. Can’t hurt to have an extra set on this, right?”

Dean seemed on board with the idea when he shrugged his shoulders at the mention of a name that made him once cringe at the mere thought. However you noticed it was Sam who appeared apprehensive, even a little bit defeated. You gave him a small smile, knowing deep down this wasn't what he wanted to do. Much as you would have loved to see Sam enjoying his life he lived just a year before again, shopping for organic fruit with this Amelia, enjoying his quiet life, it was only possible with one outcome. Once all of you found the demon tablet and Kevin, Sam could get his normal life back on track. But he would have to realize it was going to come anytime soon. You needed him too much right now for him to disappear.

+ + +

You stood with one arm crossed over your chest and the other with your fingers wrapped around the chain of a locket that was once your mother's you thought was lost forever. You accidentally put it in a box marked for charity when you were cleaning out all of her belongings a few months after she passed. While you were devastated and thought it was lost forever, it was found years later by Dean. He gifted it to you as a Christmas present the same year the both of you presumed it was going to be his last one because of the demon deal he made. It was one of your most favorite things you owned. You'd gotten in the habit of wearing it constantly since you got it. Right when you got out of hell for the first time to the first day you remembered who you were.

However you found it a little ironic when you realized the shape of the locket was exactly what the jogger was missing. You stared down at the glossy crime scene photographs of the victim lying face down on the grass. You let go of the heart shaped locket, feeling it fall back down to your chest as you reached out a hand to flip through the case file to find the autopsy report to try and see what else you could discover about this case. You read through the articles Dean found out about these murders and came to the conclusion this was your kind of weird. Nobody had the strength to rip out someone’s chest. Unless they had a little supernatural help.

“Here’s what’s odd about this thing--the guy wasn’t chopped or cut into, no incision.” You looked up from the case file and to the older Minneapolis detective assigned to working this case. “But his heart was ripped out of him like a peach pit.”

"Was he robbed?" Sam asked the detective as he grabbed a photograph to view for himself.

“Phone, watch, money all still on him.” The detective said. Your guess for this type of murder was possible werewolf, they liked the heart of the victims. But they were more messy about their killings. There wasn’t any traces of sulfur found in the chest cavity which ruled out a demon for now. It only left an infinite amount of possibilities for you. You asked the man if the victim had any enemies, wondering if the killer was working a little black magic, an angry ex-lover who dabbles in witchcraft to get back at their boyfriend. “He was in town for a conference. No local connections.”

“You guys had another one of these about six months ago.” Dean said, bringing up the other case while all of you were here discussing the first one that caught his attention.

“Yeah, and we hit a brick wall. We had nothing to go on, really. Thought maybe we got lucky here. A park surveillance camera picked up something.” The detective began walking over to the TV to show you and the boys the security camera footage of the park of your victim. You followed behind as he pulled up the video for all of you to review.

You watched as you saw the victim went on his way jogging at a steady pace, however you noticed right away that he wasn't alone. You narrowed your eyes on the figure that went past him, it looked to be another runner. The detective stopped the footage to show the other runner wasn't who you expected to be when he passed the victim. He was a little more on the heavier side, not exactly the type you would expect to go faster than the victim from his psychique alone. 

“That chubby guy the last person to see the vic alive?” Dean asked.

“Other than the killer. Name’s Paul Hayes.” The detective told all of you. “We pulled him in for questioning.”

“What makes you think he’s so clean?” Sam wondered, knowing looks could be deceiving in these kind of situations. The detective might see a chubby runner trying to get his work out in, you and the boys wondered if you found your killer.

“Well, so far, no reason not to. I mean, he said he briefly saw the victim, he ran ahead, that was it.” The detective said.

“Wait, you mean he didn’t fall to his knees and confess to gutting the guy?” Dean asked, taking it upon himself to believe the guy was guilty from the footage alone.

"No. I mean we did a thorough check on the guy, not so much as a parking ticket came up. I mean, look at him. Sure, he can run a little bit, but Thor he ain't. You think he's gonna grab Freddy fitness here and throw him down and rip his heart out? I don't think so." The detective said. You could tell this conversation was going in a bad direction from how you noticed the man was becoming a little bit heated. "Forgive me if I didn't take him out back and shoot him."

"Okay uh, so..." You cleared your throat as you smiled at the detective. You quickly snuck a hand up and grabbed a fistful of Dean's suit jacket to yank him back into reality. You could tell he wasn't exactly pleased at how the detective was speaking to him, but this wasn't the place or the time. "Any idea where we can find the guy?"

+ + +

You enjoyed eating healthy foods and running a few times a week in the morning as a way to help stay in shape and clear your head. But you would never down an opportunity to unbutton your jeans and devour something covered in grease and cheese. It was all about balance. But you would rather starve than drink whatever sort of concoction Paul Hayes threw in his blender. You smiled at the man standing behind the counter when he noticed you and the younger Winchester watch as the contents inside were turning into a dull green color that reminded you a little bit of vomit, if you had to be honest.

"Sorry. I kind of try to stick to a nutrition and workout schedule." Paul explained to you and Sam. You watched as he poured himself a drink into a tall glass to enjoy, but not before offering you some out of politeness. "Do you want a hit?"

“I’m good. Thank you.” You mumbled, turning down the offer. Paul didn't seem bothered. More for him to enjoy later. He circled around the counter so he was now leaning against it while the three of you discussed the night your victim died. "So, Paul, you passed a runner who was later killed. Did you speak with him at all?"

“Yeah, I went over this with the cops.” Paul said. You positioned your pen on the small notebook you pulled out to make it appear you were ready to jot down any sort of new information that would help you more than the cops. But you had a feeling he wasn't going to be of much use. "I didn't know him. I had never spoken to him. I ran past him. I never saw him again. The end.” You smiled slightly and wrote down the information as he took a sip of his drink, right as Dean stepped out of the bathroom. “Mm, oh. It’s disgusting. It tastes like crap, but it keeps you young.”

"Thanks, uh..." Dean chuckled to himself as he pointed to the bathroom that he snuck off to. You looked over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of his toothy smile as he rubbed his stomach. "Too much fiber."

“No such thing.” Paul said, pointing a finger at the man with a smile.

"Thank you." Sam agreed with the man. You quietly scoffed when the younger Winchester gave his brother a smug look at who agreed with the healthy lifestyle choice. "See?"

"Funny. All the fiber in the world and you two would still be full of crap." You muttered the insult to your notepad as you stared down at the notes you had written down. It was obvious you’d gotten the brothers' attention, but you didn't really care. You looked up at Paul and continued on with the conversation. "Now, Paul, we couldn't help but notice that the jogger you outraced was a good deal much younger than you.”

“Yeah, and less, uh…” Dean didn’t want to be rude as he tried to mention the other factor about how a man like him outran the victim. He gestured with his hand to the stomach region where Paul was carrying a few extra pounds that would have slowed anyone down at his weight alone.

“Uh, full-figured? You should’ve seen me before. Yeah, hugging the desk all day and watching TV all night, eating fried everything was killing me. I had a health scare about a year ago.” Paul admitted. You gave the man a sympathetic look as Sam apologized for hearing such a thing. But Paul seemed like it was a blessing in disguise. “No, it changed my life. I mean, I started taking care of myself.”

“Now your body’s a temple, huh?” Dean said, taking a wild guess at the man’s new philosophy.

“Where I worship every day.” Paul agreed as he chuckled to himself. He raised his glass to his lips to take another sip of his juice. Your nose scrunched up slightly at the look of discomfort alone that crossed over the man's face as he forced himself to drink the smoothie he prepared for himself. You shut the small notebook and clicked the pen to let the tip go back. You had a feeling this conversation was over. But it didn’t mean Paul was off your radar just yet.

+ + +

You and the boys found a little face not too far from Paul’s house where you could sit down and gather all the information you knew so far about the case. You took a seat in the back where you wouldn’t be disturbed. While Sam was off for the moment and Dean was doing some research on the laptop, you busied yourself for the past few minutes up the email you meant to send to Josh earlier before all of you picked up this case. You were typing out the last paragraph when you saw Sam appear in your peripheral vision. You turned away from your phone screen to look up the man, greeting him with a small smile at his return.

“All right, so, what’s the word?” Sam asked his brother as he took his seat back down next to you so he could review the case file again. “What did you find poking around at Paul’s?”

“Ah, just the usual--condoms, hair gel.” Dean said while he scrolled through a few news articles in curiosity if he could find another similar cases like this. “No hex bags, nothing satanic, nothing spooky.”

"So, he didn't seem like a guy who would be voted most likely to be disembowel?" You curiously wondered as you sent the email off to the world wide wide. You let out a sigh and placed your phone down on the table for safekeeping. "The freaks always gotta blend in with the normal folk. Always gotta make our jobs a hell of a lot harder."

"Hate to be the bearer of bad news, Nancy Drew, but it did. I just found another one." Dean said. You furrowed your brow as you turned your attention over to the laptop screen to see what he was talking about. You asked him if it was another murder. "And a do-it-yourself heart bypass. Two days after this one."

“What part of Minneapolis?” You asked.

"The Iowa part." Dean said. "Ames."

“Well, Paul was here being questioned. There’s no way that could have been him.” You said in disbelief. You grabbed your phone and pulled up the location app and put in the city of the most recent victim. It would have only taken three hours to drive to Ames and another three to come back. But Paul would have had no time to make that commute while the police were all over him trying to get his statement.

"This guy was a cop. This is exactly what happened six months ago. Minneapolis, then Ames. Guess you missed that one, Sammy." Dean said. You rolled your eyes when he looked over at his little brother to make another jab at something you heard years before. Sam didn't seem so amused himself. "I'm just saying."  

You loved these boys with every fiber of your being, you really did. But sometimes they tested your patience. This was the exact same argument you remembered them having over and over again way back when you first started hunting with them, eight years ago. Sam wanted to have his normal and Dean tried to keep him hunting. You didn’t care what the boys wanted to do, long as they were happy doing it. That’s all that mattered to you. But neither one of them liked to do things like you. It was always about their big picture. So you kept your opinion to yourself.

You merely packed up the case file and slammed the laptop shut, gathering them together in your arms before turning around to head out the front door. You headed for the Impala, leaving the brothers to wonder what was making you so upset. They'd get it eventually. For now you'd let Dean's pettiness and Sam's constant need for a normal life continue on. You just wanted to figure out who the hell was ripping out people’s hearts.

+ + +

“Arthur Swenson. Real top-shelf officer. Twenty years on the force.” Deputy Levitt told you about your murderer the next morning in the Ames police station. You and the boys were sitting at the deputy’s desk while you listened to him retell the gruesome night. “He’d ordered a pizza, which the vic delivered. The vic didn’t make his next drop-off. His body was found on the walk in front of Swenson’s.”

“And he wasn’t hearing a heart?” Dean asked for clarification.

“No.” Deputy Levitt answered the man. “Heartless.”

"And, uh," Sam ignored his brother's smirk when he looked over at him when he doubted if this was the same kind of thing. It turned out that it very much was. "What about Swenson?"

"Crumpled up on the front stoop. Covered in blood, crying like a baby." The deputy told all of you, giving you a picture of what unfolded that night. Nobody just rips someone’s heart out and then starts feeling remorse for it. Unless they were forced to. "Ironically, he had been in court all week, testifying."

Deputy Levitt was pulled away from the conversation when one of the offices mentioned about a call waiting for him. You leaned over slightly in your seat when you noticed the deputy took the call, giving you a moment of privacy with the boys to speak about what you just heard. “So that couldn’t have been him in Minneapolis.” You whispered, your brow raising up at what this meant for all of you.

“I hate when this happens.” Dean muttered. The call lasted another moment before the deputy hung up, giving his full attention back to the three of you. “So, this Arthur guy, what does he have to say?”

"Uh...it's not real helpful." Deputy Levitt warned you for what you were about to see.

Arthur Swenson waited for all of you in the interrogation room after you asked to speak with the man to see what he had to say. You weren't sure what you were expecting, but what you walked into was up there in the strange department. You sat across from the man as Sam attempted to record the muttered words Arthur kept repeating. You watched as his fingers kept twitching while he had them folded on the table. He kept saying something underneath his breath with such intense and complete concentration. You narrowed your eyes on him in curiosity from what could have possibly made him this way.

“So, you getting his statement?” Dean asked his brother. He stood next to the iron bars to have a more clear and wider focus on the prisoner. But there wasn't much to see while Arthur kept repeating the same words and rocking back and forth slightly for the past few minutes

"Uh, yeah, kind of." Sam mumbled. "Probably not."

“It’s too bad I dropped out of Lunatic 101.” Dean said, knowing all of you weren't getting much help from the gibberish Arthur was repeating to himself over and over again.

“Whatever it is, it sounds like he’s repeating it.” You noticed. Arthur moved his gaze up slightly from the table so he was now looking up, but nowhere in particular. You furrowed your brow when you noticed something oddly strange about his appearance you didn't see very often in people. He had one blue eye, the other brown. "Guys, look at his eyes."

“Hey, Arthur…” Dean spoke up to the older man as he walked over to the table. He leaned over and placed his hands on the table to get at some eye level with him. “Did you do this alone?”

Arthur responded with the same muttered words. You decided to see if you might be luck at getting an actual answer out of him. “Arthur, did some invisible voice tell you you had to kill?”

You flinched slightly when Arthur slammed his fist on the table, rousing an emotion out of him for a split second before he went back to his whispered chanting. “Oh, now you pissed him off.” Dean said. You gave him a dirty look from his remark. He sat himself down on the edge of the table to try and do a little experiment on the man. “Hey, Art. Can I call you Art? Listen, I’m gonna sprinkle your arm with holy water, and it’s gonna steam and burn if you’re possessed by a demon.” Dean told the man,  Arthur didn’t seem to protest as he kept chanting. “He’s a mushroom.”

Dean twisted off the cap to the flask of holy water he kept on him for situations like this. He  poured out a small amount on Arthur, expecting a reaction out of him, but nothing. His skin didn't burn as he kept on chanting. You let out a sigh. "Okay, not possessed."

“Arthur, you want to tell us why you did this?” Dean questioned the man. Arthur sat up straight in his seat as he repeated his words in a bit of a louder tone before quieting down. The older Winchester nodded his head as he appeared to be listening intently, only he was growing angry at the lack of change in behavior. “Okay.”

You found yourself quietly chuckling in amusement when Dean pushed himself off the table and back on to his feet in defeat at the lack of any real answers. You looked back over at Arthur as he kept on repeating the words over and over again. Whatever they were, they seemed to be important to him. If only you could understand what the hell he was saying.

+ + +

Later that night you and the boys booked yourselves a motel room in town, thinking you might be here for a while. Your heels were abandoned by the door along with your blazer that was lying across a small desk not too far from there. You sat next to Sam on his bed while he played the recording of Arthur's soft mummers that you still couldn't stand. You still listened, in hopes that something like a word or the phrase might spark something to you.

"So, what do you think?" Sam asked the both of you, turning off the recorder.

"Personally, I prefer the Keith Richards version." Dean said. You quietly chuckled at his lame joke as he unpacked some of his clothing he was about to slip into before calling it a night.

"Can you actually understand any of the words?" You asked the older Winchester.

"If they are words. Sounds like babble to me." Dean said. The older man suddenly was struck with an idea when he pulled out his cell phone, thinking it might be of use for all of you. "Wait a second. I bought a translation app."

“You bought an app.” You had to repeat what you just heard, a smile spreading across your lips from how sort of comical it was “Says the guy who still uses cassette tapes in his car. Surprised you even know how to work that thing."

“Says the girl who couldn’t even figure out video chat. Here, play it.” Dean put his phone to the recorder as his brother hit the play button again, letting Arthur's incoherent rambles fill the room again. It went on for a few moments before Dean looked at his phone to see what the verdict was. "And babble wins. 'Language unknown.'"

“I’ll be damned.” You muttered, not all that shocked at the findings. You heard your very own cell phone go off, making you shove a hand inside the pocket of your black slacks to see who it was. You carried on the conversation with the person the other line. The boys noticed that your expression fell into a serious one as your brow furrowed, a few moments later you wrapped up the call. "You're not gonna believe this, but Arthur's in the hospital."

“What?” Sam asked. You could hear the surprise in his voice. “What happened.”

"Apparently our man of many words tried taking out his own eye. They want us down there." You said. You pushed yourself up to your feet and shoved your phone back into your pocket for safekeeping. Dean followed right behind you. But before he could waste the time in getting himself all done up again, you stopped him. "You know, I can do this on my own. It's late. I’m sure you two want to call it a night. Enjoy some brotherly time.”

Before either one of them could offer up the chance to take this opportunity to do this one on your own, you were up on your feet, snatching your blazer and slipping your heels back on. You grabbed the keys to the Impala and reassured Dean his precious Baby would be just fine. You left the two brothers alone for the next few hours, giving you a break for once from them. You kept reminding yourself you loved the boys, you really did. But sometimes they were too much for you to even handle. And for the first time since hearing about his death, you wished Bobby was here to help.

+ + +

The last time you saw Arthur Swenson he was at the police station, in a complete trance mumbling words you couldn’t quite understand, but he was alive. Now you stood in the hallway of the hospital, staring at him strapped down to a bed with bandages wrapped around his head, sedated for the moment. You crossed your arms over your chest from what could have possibly caused this. Arthur’s doctor, Dr. Kashi, stood by your side as the both of you discussed the matter of what made Arthur pluck his own eye out. “So, Dr Kashi, what are we looking at here,” You asked the doctor. “Some kind of psychotic break?” “Oh, definitely.” She agreed. “He was very thorough. Severed the optic nerve. He was determined to remove the eye.” “And he used, uh, what to cut with?” You wondered. Cells were frequently checked thoroughly by police for any sort of weapons that might hurt themselves or other. Arthur would have known this being a cop. But he also would know what to do to harm himself if he desperately wanted to. “He doesn't look strong enough, but he broke off part of the bed frame and used it as a knife.” Dr. Kashi said. You raised your brow in surprise as a nurse passed the both of you by, handing over a few files to the doctor before disappearing. “Wow. They should put warning labels on those beds.” You muttered. You winced at the thought alone of someone shoving something sharp into your eye. Let alone gathering the strength to rip off a metal piece of the bed frame with your bare hands. Either Arthur was the Incredible Hulk, or something possessed him to do it. “I noticed that he had two different-colored eyes.” “Yes. Apparently, he was in an accident where much of one eye was shattered. His vision was saved with a transplant.” Dr. Kashi said. You looked back over at the man and asked her when this was. She opened up the file on him and skimmed through a few pages before finding the bit of information. “A year ago, almost to the date. And, interestingly, it's the transplanted eye he chose to cut out.” “Really?” You muttered, finding this a bit interesting. And helpful for you. “Hey, let me ask you something, doc. Is it possible to trace the donor of a transplanted organ?” “Difficult.” Dr. Kashi said. “But possible?” You wondered.

The doctor smiled, answering your question. You returned the gesture before looking over at the sedated patient again. It’d been a while since you got to do research for a case. And what better way to start than hunting down Arthur Swenson’s doner after he carved out their lovely gift.

[Next Part]

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Through His Eyes - Part Two

Summary - Bucky arrives at the compound to start afresh but you and him have a somewhat colorful past, colorful being that you met him once before as The Winter Soldier and it did not go well. New beginnings, yeah? If you can learn to forgive.

Pairing - Eventual Bucky x Reader

Warnings - Nightmare, mentions of blood and torture, a mega ton of guilt and sad stuff guys. A N G S T 

A/N -  I need to do this justice guys, it’s my baby.  Feedback loved and appreciated  Please love me, I haven’t written in forever.

Through His Eyes Masterlist

The next hour is spent eating and laughing with Steve, some of the tension ebbing away whilst he recounted all the ways Sam got rejected when they were at Tony’s party a few days before. Poor guy unintentionally hit on some guys wife and it did not go well. After clearing away the plates and containers, Steve hugs you again and decides to head off to bed.

“Y/N...I just-” Steve stops at the door, suddenly serious again, “You know it wasn’t him right? Not really?”

You hesitate a little, testing out the weight of it, caught between wanting to please him and not wanting to like. Was it something you had accepted. “I know Steve.” Maybe. Did it matter?

“It haunts him, you know? Especially at night.” He smiles wearily, the strain of today written all over his face for the first time, leaves you to feel the weight of his words.

It wasn't something you had considered, not fundamentally. Maybe you’d thought he somehow moved on, never dwelled on the things he done. Maybe you simply didn't care, too caught up in how it affected you and his other victims, but still, now you were thinking. Conflicting emotions wrapping around your heart, crudely cut joy, guilt, pain and maybe a little...empathy. Wrapping tighter and tighter till you weren't sure which was strongest.

Shit.

It’s long past midnight and you're still awake, lying in your bed staring up the ceiling like it contains the answers to all of life's problems, the answers to nothing and something, and everything in between. Today had been a lot to process, seeing Bucky for the first time since...well, then, seeing not the soldier but the man. Seems he was all duct tape and glue like you, the brutal reality a stark contrast to the man you imagined, a far cry from the dead eyes and blank stares of before. Steve’s words loop around, caught between memories and nightmares and a new feeling that's here, scratching at the surface of your fortified heart.

Guilt.

That’s the point isn't it? You're supposed to forgive him now, supposed to understand the why and forget the how. Logical, practical...human. If only it were that simple.

Now, what do I do with this?

“Shit.” Muffled and low, a voice sounds outside your door. Your hands automatically reach for you gun, tucked under your pillow and wedged between the mattress and bed frame. Bob. Most reliable friend you’d ever had.

There’s someone there, hovering outside your door...are they pacing? Yep, distinct sound of threads being worn away and thoughts turning over. Less concerned for your safety and more curious and sort of annoyed now, you hoist yourself into a sitting position, roll your neck a few times, muscles gone stiff at the strenuous ceiling staring and finally find your feet. You swing the door open in one fast, fluid motion stunning your guest and in turn yourself.

Bucky.

Thoughts liquify, stunned to the point you forget to be afraid, that you should be.

“Shit, did I wake you?” He asks, voice ragged and guilty heavy, “I just- I had to say… I shouldn’t have come here. This was fucking selfish.” He runs a heavy hand down his face, gripping at his jaw so hard it had to hurt.

You're still standing there, slack jawed and blinking stupidly, it would be funny if you could muster enough coherence to recognise it but he doesn’t seem to notice, or mind, and you can tell he’s mentally berating himself. His eyes say much more than he seems to be managing with his mouth. He steps towards you and the motion jolts you, makes you take an involuntary step back but finally clearing the fog a little.

Noting your movement he stills, lowers his hands to his side and looks at you right in the eye for the second time today, lets you see the pure agony in them, “I just had to say it, Y/N, I’m so sorry for what I... if I could take it all back I would. I had to at least say it.” He holds your gaze a second longer before turning and disappearing down the hall. You watch him retreat, wondering how you got to the point where you might even feel sorry for him? Like a smidge.

Despite that, it's a while before your breathing returns to normal, before you heart stops trying to escape from your chest. It takes even longer for the tears to dry.  

“You look like shit.” You do, it's no surprise really that Sam would point it out after 0.5 of a second. Shithead.

“Bite me, Birdboy.” You flick a piece of cereal at him, dry since there was no milk. Tony was gonna be pissed.

“Out of milk again?” You nod, tipping the rest of the bowl into your mouth, “Momma Stark is gonna lose his shit.”

“I have a plammphf…” You say around the mouthful of cereal earning you a look.

“You’re disgusting.” Sam says, prompting you to show him the entire contents of your mouth as punishment. He wanted disgusting after all, “God, you’ve been hanging around why guys too much.” You shrug, he’s probably right, and finish your mouthful.

“Anyways, I have a plan.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yup. I don't plan on being here when Mrs Doubtfire wakes up.”

“Not much of a plan is it?”

“All I got dude.” He rolls his eyes and flops into the chair next to you, his own bowl of dry cereal in his hand.

“Hey.” He says, softer this time, leans in a little “you good?”

“Yeah, I’m good Sam. Promise.”

Sam hangs around most of the day, you suspect he’s keeping an eye on you but say nothing, honestly just grateful for the company. You eat, you watch movies, all in it's a good day. Yet, you can’t stop glancing at the door, wondering if he’ll appear, wondering what you’ll do. Decisions, reactions.

“Hey kid, you doing okay?” Sam asks, nods towards the door like he’s seen every glance.

You sigh, “Yeah, I am. I’m trying to be.” He raises his eyebrows at this, silently questioning, “I want to get passed this, forgive and forget.”

“Oh, yeah? For Steve or for you?” He tries to stay neutral, but you hear it anyway.

“Both, I guess?” You reply, chewing on your bottom lip, “I want to, just, not sure if I can.”

“You can, if that’s what you want. Just gonna take some time, kid. You deserve time.”

Around 5pm, Sam gets called out on a last minute mission, nothing too drastic but Redwing was needed and so Sam goes too. You stay in the lounge, adamant you can finish the full season of Stranger Things before you go to bed and somewhere along the way you fall asleep.

Dead eyes. Dead eyes.

The smell of blood is overwhelming, blood and sweat, stuck to you, drowning you. He’s here, like always, walking closer and closer. You blink a few times, trying to clear the haze, trying to see his face but it’s blurry. It’s never blurry.

The knife is clear.

He's in front of you now, face blurry except those dead eyes, drawing up his full size as he begins his slow patterns on your arm, starts at the bottom, twists and turns the blade as your scream in agony, the sounds of knife tearing flesh somehow louder. He stops, you look. A. The screaming starts again. And again.

“Y/N, Y/N wake up, it’s a dream.”

You jerk away from the cold touch on your arm, press yourself back against the couch like you can disappear into it. Figures it would be him, kneeling on the floor in front of you.

“M’sorry. Seemed like you should wake up.” Bucky says, eyeing you warily and sitting back on his haunches, maybe making himself a little smaller. You say nothing, mind still recovering from the nightmare and struggling to reconcile that Bucky with this one, the one with kind eyes and not dead.

“You said my name.” He whispers, like he wants to know but want’s to not.

“Yeah well, you had a starring role.” You say back, voice breaking a little at the end and putting a little heat in the tone.

He nods again, face aiming for detached and falling somewhere short in agony. Climbs to his feet, and goes to leave, turns a little ways back and stills, “You star in mines too.”

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[dreamin-of-somewhere-else]

The Novaks: The One With The Two Men At The Diner

The Novaks Masterlist

Characters: Castiel, Michael, Lucifer, Raphael, Gabriel x sister!reader

Words: 3000+

Warnings: Swearing, mean comments, hints at violence, otherwise not that bad.

A/N: Soooooo, I’ve been watching so much Shameless this past week, it’s crazy. (SPN forever though!) I said it inspired the last fic, but maybe it inspired this one as well. This is pretty different and it’s an AU! The angels are humans.

Also, I’m thinking about making more parts of this, if you like it. So if you want more, let me know - and your request is my demand. I’ll tell you more about it later, if it follows through. Also, I tagged less people in this one since I didn’t know who’d want to read this. But, I still included all of the SPN (Sisfic) Taglist since it’s not only for Winchester!sister fics. Although, feel free to ignore as always! Hopefully I didn’t bother anyone.

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Your family is just a little bit different from the average. A few more kids, and few less parents. Okay, well, no parents and six siblings. It’s a long story, but you get by surprisingly well.

Sometimes at least.

Oldest in the family (except for your absent dad who no one has seen in years) is Michael. Kind of a douchebag, he definitely thinks he knows it all. Self-claimed leader of the family. He’s 22 and the one that brings home the most money through his work at the local car repair garage as a mechanic — and therefore, he’s not someone you would want to mess with. Well, that and his slight anger issues. It isn’t confirmed that he has them, but if anyone could get mad, it’s Michael. All of you other siblings have respect for him. He can definitely be intimidating, and to be honest — you’re kind of scared of him. Everyone except for the second to oldest sibling in the family…

Which is Lucifer. He’s often the only one who stands up to Michael, and the two of them can fight like nobody else. Lucifer — or Luci as you like to call him to his dismay — is one sarcastic bastard that the rest of you kind of avoid or are constantly annoyed at. Like his older brother, Lucifer can get really furious, and everyone in the family know this. He’s the wildcard, amazingly manipulative and often gets in trouble. Luci is also winning the game of who gets arrested the most — which is quite a lot of times, especially since he’s only 21 years old.

Next up is Gabriel, or Gabe, who thinks he’s the funniest guy on the planet. He’s 20 years old and seemingly always present, trying to talk to you about nothing, especially when you’re doing something important. He’s also so good at convincing that you don’t even know what you’re agreeing to in the end. Definitely a prankster, which gets him in trouble at times, but you can’t say he doesn’t come up with some of the most creative solutions to them.

Balthazar is the fourth one. Hard to keep track of yet? Balt is 19 and pretty much Gabriel’s sidekick, maybe not always by choice. He thinks he’s above Gabriel’s pranks though, that’s what he says officially, at least. They rarely do, but when they fight, they can freeze each other out for a good week — no problem. Balthazar is sarcastic as well (seems to be a family trait) and pretty damn smart.

Then there’s Castiel although you always call him Cas. He’s 18 and can be pretty quiet — calm — and sometimes quite awkward around other people. He’s different in his own, amazing way. If anyone could space out for an hour, it’s Cas. He’s very book smart, with a spectacular memory, but not street smart at all. Although calm, he can get fiercely overprotective of you, and sometimes he can even be sassy. You love those times, because there’s nothing funnier than sassy Cas.

And then finally, it was you. Youngest of six siblings and the only girl. You’re 17, about to be 18, and there’s less than a year between you and Cas. Your relationship with your brothers varies, but you and Cas always had each other’s backs. You two are the second dynamic duo of the family.

Looks wise, you siblings aren’t all that alike. The only parent either of you share is your father, which left you as half siblings. That’s why you’re all close in age as well.

Your dad had never been in the picture, at least not for you, who are the youngest. You don’t have a clear memory of him either, although you remember Michael telling you once that ’of course he’s coming back, (Y/N)’, when you had asked. Michael is the one that had been closest with your dad — from what you had gathered growing up — and some part of him still believes that he’ll walk through the door again. But to you, your dad’s just the person who gave you your genes and last name.

You Novaks don’t exactly have a great reputation either. ’The kids with the weird-ass names.’ You are scapegoats, and if one of you got in trouble, all of you’re all blamed. People call you names — one of them is ”the crazy sextuplets” or some shit like that, since the age difference between you is so small.

You’re not liked. You don’t have a lot of money. But you get by. You always do, somehow. It’s a rocky and crazy ride, but you get forward. And that’s what matters, right?

”Are you lost in thought again, (Y/N)?”

”What?” You ask, brought back to the moment as your eyes shot to Castiel walking besides you.

It’s fall and getting colder by each day that passes. Today, it’s almost at the point where your breath comes out as a misty cloud in front of your face as you speak. The trees are getting barer and barer, the ground more and more decorated with yellow, red and brown.

Castiel’s ocean blue eyes are eyeing you carefully, a small smile on his face.

”I thought so.” He snickers.

”Hey, if anyone can space out it’s you, dear Cas.” You retort, pointing a finger at his chest.

”I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Castiel shrugs it off, looking innocent as you pass the gate and walk up the stairs to the small porch of your worn house.

You roll your eyes at that, but the conversation is lost as you walk through the front door.

”What the hell, Gabe? I’m gonna kill you!”

Balthazar’s angry shout is what greets you as you enter the house. Castiel and you share a look just as Gabriel comes running down the stairs, taking three steps at once, Balthazar hot in his tracks.

”It’s just a prank!” Gabriel shouts back as he runs, a little breathless but grinning largely.

”It’s not funny, that’s what it is,” the younger brother retorts as he continues on chasing the laughing Gabriel, even as he opens the backdoor and runs outside.

You and Castiel don’t even comment it. It’s the usual. You just take off your jackets and shoes, and drop off your bags on the floor.

”Are you working tonight?” Castiel then asks over his shoulder, as he walks further into the house.

”Cas, when I’m a not working?” You reply a little bitterly.

”You work too much.”

”Maybe,” you shrug, beginning to walk up the stairs. ”But we’re still behind on the electricity bill, aren’t we?”

A little over one hour later you’re at the diner you work at. Well, dinner and bar, it’s some sort of mix between the two. Although some nights are better than others, you don’t like this job. It’s not because of the place itself or your boss — it’s the people who came here. Hell, the people who live in this part of the town.

And although you’ve only been here for 20 minutes, you already know it’s going to be one of the worse work shifts.

”Hey, girl!”

You slowly turn around, facing the table with the pair of middle aged men. You know who they are, they don’t come here all that often, but they live in the area. Walt and Roy, you think. You’re unsure if they recognize you.

You walk over. ”Yeah?” You ask, tone light in contrast to theirs.

”We’ll have two more beers,” one of them speak up. The man has tattoos, a beard and is wearing a trucker cap. ”Also, four dollars each? I don’t think so. More like two.”

You swallow. ”That’s how much they cost. Sorry.”

”Who are you?” The other then asks, and you don’t like the change of subject. This man squints his cold eyes at you, eyeing you from head to toe.

You don’t answer, instead you focus on writing down the two beers on your small note pad, pretending to not have heard the question.

”You’re one of those Novak kids, aren’t you?” He finally decides, scoffing before he takes a last sip out of his current glass of beer, emptying it. ”How many are you anyways? 11? 15? Like rats or something.”

His friend scoffed. ”I think a Novak kid stole my wife’s bike the other day.”

You frown, biting the inside of your cheek and hating how he just assumed that without any sort of evidence. It’s just fine to blame it all on you, isn’t it?

”I don’t think so,” you disagree, although you keep yourself calm. Both of them are taller and broader than you, and although you know how to fight — kudos to your brothers — you can’t take on them both at the same time.

”I do,” the same man responds, voice angry. ”I know how you can make it up to me though,” he then continues on as his eyes darken and a disturbing smile spreads on his face. ”Come and meet me outside later in the alley, huh?”

”No.” You shake your head.

”Fine, bitch.” He scoffs, obviously angry to be turned down, his tone venomous. ”I don’t want no Novak anyways, you guys are just pieces of shits.”

At his words, you feel tears burning in your eyes. Not wanting them to see, you whip around and storm out of there. You continue into the kitchen where you run into Rufus, the owner of the diner.

”(Y/N)?” He asks, frowning, but doesn’t get further.

”Sorry, Rufus, but I can’t.” You respond quickly, eyes wild, trying to keep yourself together.

You take off your apron while you keep moving, placing it on a countertop as you pass, and walk out into the cold night.

When you arrive back at your house 30 minutes later, you feel frozen to the core. You’re chattering teeth, chills creep up and down your back and wrapping your arms as closely as you can around yourself doesn’t help.

All the time you were walking, you couldn’t keep your mind off what had happened. You hate this. The way people treat you; it’s tiring and you’re exhausted.

When you close the door behind you, you don’t bother to call out a ’hello’ or even ask if anybody’s home. Someone always is, and that someone would have heard the door closing.

As you angrily kick off your shoes, someone approaches you, silhouette stark against the yellow lightning coming from the kitchen.

”(Y/N)?”

”Mike.”

”Your shift isn’t supposed to end for two hours.” Michael states, squinting his eyes at you suspiciously.

”I know,” you answer simply as you try to push past your oldest brother to the stairs so that you could just go to your room. ”Is Cas home?” You then ask, switching the subject.

”No, he’s out tutoring that Fitzgerald kid.” Michael grabs your wrist as you pass him, forcing you to a stop. ”The question is why you’re home.”

His expression morphs into that one he wears when he’s about to scold you. There’s really no doubt that Michael loves being the authority of the family.

”Okay, if you really wanna know, there was some asses at the diner and I didn’t want to be there anymore.” You rant, eyebrows knitting on your forehead.

You see Michael’s jaw clench, even in the poor lightning.

”We need that money, (Y/N).” His gaze bores into you.

”Don’t you think I know that? Now, let me go!” You try to pull your arm towards yourself but he holds on.

”I don’t think you do.” Michael shakes his head.

”Let me go!” You argue, not wanting to talk about this with him at all. You just wish Cas would come home soon, and until then, you would just sit in your room.

”What’s going on?” A new voice chimes in and both yours and Michael’s head shoot to the source of the sound.

It’s Gabriel, and he looks from you to Michael and then back to you, unsure.

”He won’t let me go.” You say, glaring at Michael, who glares back.

Gabriel sighs, strides over and pushes Michael away from you, who reluctantly lets him, still keeping his icy stare on you.

As soon as his grip’s gone, you bolt up the stairs. You clearly hear the thuds of footfalls behind you, following you, but you don’t care. Instead, you rush into your room and throw yourself on the bed, clutching your pillow and squeezing it as hard as you can, trying to let off some steam at least. Poor pillow.

You’re left alone for a little while, before there’s a knock on the door. You stay silent, but it opens nevertheless — just as always — to reveal Gabriel and Balthazar, the former obviously having gone to get his sidekick.

Within a few seconds you found your self surrounded by your big brothers, one sitting on either side of you on your bed.

Balthazar wraps his arm around your shoulders. ”So what has lil sis’ feeling like this?”

”It’s nothing,” you answer, looking away.

”If it was nothing you wouldn’t be trying to kill your pillow.” Gabriel’s eyes rest on the pillow in your arms, and you glare at him, letting it go.

”Fine, there were some assholes at the diner. Talked some major shit about our family, then proceeded to accuse us of stealing some bike and then he tried to get me to ’meet him outside in the alley’ to make up for it.” You sigh.

”Shit,” Balthazar mutters to himself, hugging you closer at the same time.

To your right, Gabriel only seems to clench his fists tighter and tighter.

”Then I rushed out, and now I don’t know if I have a job anymore. Michael’s gonna kill me.”

”Don’t worry about Mike,” Balthazar reassures you. ”He’ll come around, and if he don’t we’ll handle it.”

”Really?” You ask, looking into his eyes.

”Do I need to pinky promise you?”

You roll your eyes, but smile.

”But, I think we need to get some revenge.” Gabriel speaks up. ”And then you can talk to your boss as well, while we’re there—”

He never gets to finish his sentence because someone else interrupts him.

Standing leaning against the door frame — arms casually crossed over his chest — is Lucifer.

”Anyone we need to beat up?” He asks, raising one eyebrow.

”Yes,” Gabriel responds, and you know that there’s no stopping them now.

”Lovely,” Lucifer nods, smirking in a way that only he can. ’The Luci-grin' as you call it.

”Come on then,” Balthazar states as he and Gabriel grab one of your hands each and pull you up from the bed.

Together you return to the first floor where Michael spends most of his time. Lucifer takes the lead and walks into the kitchen where he finds said brother.

”Brother, we’re going to restore our family’s and our sister’s honor. Wanna come with?” He offers, gesturing with his hands.

”What are you proposing, Lucifer?” Michael asks, rising an eyebrow. ”Explain.”

”(Y/N), tell him.” Lucifer orders, without taking his eyes off Michael. ”Tell him what they said.”

You sigh, not really wanting to, but then you tell him, quoting the men by their exact words. In the end you also added that you’re going to talk to Rufus once you get back to the diner, see what damage has been done and if you get to keep your job after the rage quit, basically, as further encouragement for Michael to come with — but it’s not need,  your big brother is already mad enough.

Despite your differences, there’s one thing your brothers and you can agree on: nobody messes with a Novak.

”I’m in.” Michael clenches his jaw along with his fists — just like Gabriel had done — as he nods, standing up from his chair at the dining table. ”Let’s go.”

”Great,” Lucifer smirks and goes to grab two baseball bats from a basket under the stairs, originating from the time when Michael and he had played the sport.

He keeps one for himself and tosses the other one to Balthazar, who catches it effortlessly.

Just as the whole party moves towards the front door, Castiel enters the house, blue eyes going round as saucers when he sees his siblings; angry with two bats, on the move.

Gabriel is the first one to speak up.

”Hey, little bro! Right on time, we were just leaving.” He says, and with that, everyone starts moving again, walking past the youngest brother and out the door.

”What’s going on?” Castiel then asks you, looking confused as he wraps his hand around your forearm.

”I’ll tell you on the way,” you respond and walk out the door to keep up with the rest of the family.

He follows you outside, once again out in the cold evening. It’s even darker and colder outside now, but you aren’t thinking of it as much this time since your walking along with your five older brothers and not alone.

Soon you’re back at the diner, walking inside as a group. The two men are still there, laughing loudly over cigarettes, drunker than before. You don’t even have to tell your brothers, they can see it on your face that these are the two they came looking for.

”Wait—” you utter just as Lucifer takes the lead, about to walk up to them.

”We’re just gonna talk,” he assures, bat resting on his shoulder. Before you can answer, he along with Michael, Gabriel and Balthazar start moving again.

And although you don’t exactly want the two scumbags dead, the looks of fear on their faces as they spotted the gang of young men approaching them were priceless. You wish you could’ve taped it and watch it on replay, over and over again.

Castiel lingers by your side, and you share a look as you do ever so often.

”I’m going to talk to Rufus,” you tell him, and he nods, following you as you make your way over to the owner of the diner, a man in his fifties.

”(Y/N), what happened?” Are Rufus’s first words when he catches sight of you, confusion in his ebony eyes.

You explain the situation without going into too much detail.

”I’m sorry, I completely understand if you don’t want me working here anymore…” you finish, voice small.

A hand touches your shoulder, giving it a light squeeze, and you know it’s Castiel.

”Don’t worry, girl, I ain’t letting you go. I have a non-tolerance for that type of bullshit crap in my diner anyway. I would throw the sorry excuses of men out of here, if it wasn’t already taken care of.” He says, referring to the commotion that’s now moved outside of the building.  

A smile spreads on your face, relief settling in. ”Thank, Rufus.”

”No problem. But next time, talk to me first and I’ll handle it. There’s a lot of pigs around here, and if your brothers gotta beat them up every time, they’ll be regulars.”

A small chuckle escapes your mouth. ”Yeah, you’re probably right.”

”I’m always right,” he smiles, white teeth a contrast against his deep skin tone.

You laugh again. ”So, I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

”I’m not expecting any less,” he responds, and that settled it.

”Great,” you smile, before turning around to Castiel, who’s smiling too.

You hold up your hand, and he gives you a high five. You had thought that that might have been it, but instead you got to keep your job and Rufus had proven to be someone you could trust at least to some extent, which is definitely a win-win.

You and Castiel walk through the now calm and empty diner, and out the door, the small bell ringing as you did. Outside, your brothers are waiting, faces lightly tinted pink from the light of the red neon sign on the diner’s facade.

There’s no sign of the men, and your siblings look sort of unfazed, like nothing’s happened.

When you join them, Balthazar leans closer to you.

”Not dead, but severely humiliated. Probably won’t come back,” he informs you, contently.

”Thanks for having my back, guys.” You smile, looking from one brother to the other. ”I mean it.”

”No problem, lil sis.” Gabriel ruffles your hair. ”Our pleasure.”

Tell me what you thought! Should I write more? If enough people think so, I will. I already have some ideas how to do this, so yeah :)

Tags: @evyiione @samanddeanshotsis @darkestgrungeuniverse @fabulouslycassie @delessapeace-blog @mariairwin666 @1amluke @saveprettydays @cookee50 @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou @infamati--et--obliterati @stillcooli0 @sammysbeanie @ocean-calls-me @deepbreathssammy @extreme-supernatural-lover @mogaruke @winchestersmut @i-kdog-posts @steve-rogcrs @wordshowers @27bmm @jjsoccer11 @ivebeenraisedfromperdition @bluecookiesandbooks @disappointeddinosaur @nicolevanderstar @frayedphan @jared-jensen-misha-are-lovelyy @straightestgay-voice @legend-o-zelda @holysheeppanda @mynameisdesolation @to-stars-and-back @forevershadeddark @stonergirl4life95 @wxnchestervevo @captainemwinchester @rosie-winchester @justanotherwinchester @violinmyhead @magical-cas @quackerstheduck663057 @falloutofmymemez @messy-buns-and-shotguns @assbutt-still-in-hell @phonegalhelp @lemonadegazeelle @stilesneedsprotection @mcallmestiles @wishedworld @catstielanddeanthedog @foe-throughthetrees @phire23 

For some reason I’m able to tag less and less people on this list. I don’t know if people are changing their urls, or deleting their blogs, or something’s not working. 

Anyways, as always, if you want on or off the taglist(s), just send me an ask! If you change your url and still want to be tagged, please tell me! It’s REALLY hard to keep track of.

[xxbyimm]

A Crown for a Queen

So. There it is. My first fic request ever is done, and I’m so nervous for the reactions! It took me a while, @deepestfirefun​, but I hope you didn’t mind waiting for a while & enjoy this one. If you do like it, I can write you a second part. <3

Request: After the BoTFA. Thorin is now crowded king and is expected to find himself a queen. Reader has been by his side through the journey and is now a official jewelry maker. One of the dwarf lords has brought his cousin to Erebor hoping that Thorin would consider to start courting her. Thorin has a little choice, since all the noble dwarves are breathing down his neck all the time and finally agrees to court. He then goes to the reader's working station to order new courting beads and royal jewelry to his future wife and himself. When she askes what kind of design he would like, Thorin answers : " what kind you would want if they were made for you?" she does not think much about the volume of Thorin's question. Little does she knows that Thorin has feelings for her but because of the dwarf lords, he can't exactly announce that to everyone. The cousin of the lord is quite the beauty but her personality is everything Thorin dislikes about a long life mate.

Warnings: Not really. Some flirting and kissing, I guess... I do have to warn you that English isn’t my native language... so... don’t hate me for some spelling errors.

A Crown for a Queen

‘Are you ready?’ you ask your friend. ‘Ready as I’ll ever be.’ He says.

You are in your little working station in the city of Dale, and your friend is eyeing you nervously. You smile and turn around to get the wedding rings he asked you to make months ago. Actually, those two rings are the reason you ended up being friends in the first place! Ramsey and you met a few months after the battle for Erebor, or “the battle of the five armies” as the people like to call it. You had just settled in the city of Dale and tried to make a living as a respected jewelry maker, but it was hard to make means end. You’ll never forget the day Ramsey, a young wealthy merchant’s son, came into your work place and showed you a design his betrothed had drawn. ‘Can you craft this for me?’ he had asked. ‘I’m quite desperate.’ You had accepted his offer, but told him it would take you months to complete such an intricate design. And that it would cost a fortune. Ramsey in his turn told you he didn’t care about money, or the time it would take. Everything for his fiancée.

So as the months passed by, Ramsey often came by your place to see how the rings were doing. He told you all about his life, and you about yours. You told him how you ended up in the company of Thorin Oakenshield. How you and the company reconquered Erebor and stood bravely against the enemy in the battle that followed. How you helped Thorin build up Erebor again.

‘Please don’t tell me you screwed up, Mir.’ Ramsey’s voice brings you back to business. His tone might be teasing, but you also detect a hint of seriousness in there that tells you how much he cares. Of course you wouldn’t screw up! How could you ever? You laugh and decide to tease him some more. ‘You’re too late, Rams. The damage is already done.’ ‘Don’t you dare to…’ he begins, but then gasps as you open your hand. ‘They are… breathtaking!’ he stammers. ‘I’m glad you like it.’ You say. ‘I hope Faylinn will love it as much as you do.’ ‘It’s exactly what she wants. I’m sure of it.’ Ramsey answers as he takes the rings from you. ‘They’re so… refined. Just like Fay.’ ‘You’re the best, Miriyan!’ Ramsey tells you and he throws a little leather purse in your direction. ‘Here’s your payment. As promised.’ You open the purse and take a peek inside. ‘But that’s more than we agreed on!’ you instantly object. ‘You deserve it.’ Ramsey smiles as he opens the door of your little shop. ‘Mir, I have to run. Fay expects me at her place. Now.’ ‘Well, hurry up then. And don’t forget about me when you’re married.’ You wink. Ramsey sighs dramatically. ‘Of course not. How could I? You know, I bet when Faylinn sees our wedding rings, she’ll want you to make more jewelry.’ You giggle as you watch your friend leaving your little shop.

A few hours later you’re repairing a necklace for the rich lady that lives down the street. Repairing jewelry is not your favorite pastime, but you have to take on every assignment that is offered. Even after months of hard labor, your business isn’t as thriving as you would want it to be. Although people instantly admired your beautiful works and remarkable creativity, they still tend to shy away from you.

No doubt because of your looks.

People see you as an odd duck. You’re human, but you don’t look like one. You’re as tall as most dwarves, with the slender figure of an elf. Anyone can see that your unusual bright golden eyes and thick long silver locks do compliment your smooth complexion, but this rare fairness seems to be quite a problem. The humans around you resent you for your unique appearance. The dwarves you meet respect and hate you for your craftmanship. You’re as skilled as they are, and they don’t like that. After all, you’re a female. A female human that wears pants instead of dresses and forges jewelry like a skilled dwarf… how inappropriate! And the elves… You suppress as smile. It’s safe to say that they resent everything that isn’t an elf.

‘Lady Miriyan…’ A low baritone voice almost makes you jump. ‘My king.’ You say as you turn around to greet the one and only Thorin Oakenshield with a reverence. ‘You don’t need to bow for me.’ He mutters. ‘You know that.’ ‘And yet I do.’ You answer. Thorin chuckles. ‘So, you escaped your kingly duties today?’ you tease as you point out his casual clothing. Thorin smiles. ‘I wouldn’t call it escaping… More like a… short break. I left Fíli in charge today, so I can only hope the mountain still stands when I come back.’ ‘Oh! Poor Fee…’ You say and bite your lip to stop a giggle from coming out. ‘How is he doing? How’s everyone doing? I miss you all terribly.’ ‘You wouldn’t if you had stayed with us.’ Thorin tells you. ‘It was your choice to live here in Dale. We wanted you to stay.’ ‘Are you accusing me of abandoning my poor companions?’ you joke as you walk up to the door. You turn the sign of your shop to tell potential costumers you’re busy at the moment. ‘I told you a thousand times why I had to leave.’ You add.

Thorin knows this is true and this is why he (this time) doesn’t argue with you about the matter. All your beloved dwarves tried to stop you from leaving them, but you were not to be persuaded. You told them you wanted to open your own working station, to fend for yourself. You told them you had to be near your own kin. The jewelry dwarf masters down in the forges in Erebor would never accept you, you said. ‘But you’ll be alone… What if something happens to you?’ Balin had objected. ‘Oh come one, Balin. I’ll be fine.’ You had countered him. ‘I know that, lass.’ He had answered, trying to hide how shaken he was by the fact that you were leaving.

But there was that other reason why you felt the urge to leave, a reason no one knew. You knew damn well that if you in fact had stayed, after a while the skilled jewelry makers in the forges of Erebor would’ve accepted you. Maybe even like you. You would have found your place in the mountain. But another thing drove you away. A thing that you would never dream of sharing with the world. Since the moment you met Thorin Oakenshield, you had been terribly lost. You could stare at him for hours, admiring his broad and robust posture. His body was scarred and toughened by the harsh living conditions he once was forced to work in, but yet… so polished. So majestic. And his eyes… they could pierce right through you. You had fantasized over and over again about his beard rasping against your skin. Like that would ever happen…

Yes, you were an hopeless case. You loved him.

But as lovesick as you was, you were also quite practical. You knew a relationship between (even a short) human and a dwarf was impossible. You knew Thorin would choose one of the available dwarrowdams as his queen one day, and you also were painfully aware of the fact you couldn’t be there to watch him do so. It would tear you apart. So, you told yourself that you needed some distance. Some time. Just you, a place to execute your work and some precious metals would do the trick. You would forget about him. Eventually. So, you did what you had to. You packed your belongings, said goodbye to the dwarves and left.

‘I’d like to ask you if you could craft a few things for me.’ Thorin’s question brings you back in the room. ‘Are you sure?’ you inquire. Thorin frowns. ‘Why wouldn’t I be?’ ‘Perhaps because you’ve got dozens of skilled dwarves under your command in the forges of Erebor, who are more than happy to make anything you want. Who probably also will be very offended when they learn you rather ask me than them.’ Thorin shrugs. ‘They’ve got plenty to do. I want something special, and I need you to make it for me.’ ‘Alright.’ You heave a sigh. ‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you. What can I do for you?’ Thorin follows you to the back, into your kitchen. In the last few months he has visited you a few times and you quickly developed a sort of a routine. You both like to sit in your kitchen, sharing ale and discussing all kind of subjects. It never stops to amaze you how funny the dwarf behind those walls of pride and honor actually is. You love to spend time with him.

‘As you know, I need to pick a queen soon.’ He begins as he sits down at your round kitchen table. ‘Yes.’ You mutter and you hand him a mug containing ale. ‘And you need me to make new courting beads?’ ‘Yes.’ He nods. ‘And some new royal jewelry, for both me and my future queen.’

You don’t want to raise this question, but you have to.

‘And who is the lucky dwarrowdam?’ ‘I didn’t make up my mind yet.’ Thorin says. You laugh, because you’re actually quite relieved.

‘Alright, is there a specific design you had in mind for your yet undetermined queen?’ ‘I don’t know…’ he replies. ‘What kind would you want, if they were made for you?’

You frown. That’s an odd question. Even from Thorin. Most customers know exactly what they want before they enter your door. But Thorin is… he is a king now. He probably doesn’t have plenty of time to think about how his new royal jewelry should look like. It makes sense that he asks you, the craftswoman, for advice.

‘It doesn’t matter if I like it, your future wife should. But hold on…’ You murmur. ‘Let me grab my sketchbook. I think I’ve got…’ You don’t finish your sentence, because you feel the enthusiasm already running through your veins. This is the feeling you live for. You love it. The feeling of excitement and anticipation that makes your body tremble when you know you’re about to come up with a stunning design... After all these reparations you’re forced to take on, you sometimes forget why you wanted to be a jewelry maker in the first place. But now you remember again.

You get your sketchbook from your bedroom and sit down next to Thorin again. You browse through your book to find a page that doesn’t have your drabbles on it. But you tend to leave sketches on every empty patch you see, leaving the pages crowded with drawings. It’s safe to say you need a new book. On one of the last pages of it, you finally find an empty spot. You begin to draw. ‘I could do…’ you tell him as you move your pencil over the paper. ‘Something…like… this.’ You murmur.

You don’t notice that Thorin watches your facial expressions rather than the actual design you’re drawing. ‘So maybe I can inlay the gold with ruby and do…’ you suggest, your eyes pinned on the paper beneath you. ‘What about this?’ Thorin interrupts as he points at one of your drabbles on the left page of your sketchbook. ‘What?’ you say. ‘This one.’ He responds, pointing at the drawing again. ‘You like this?’ ‘Erm. Yes.’ You stutter. ‘But that’s just a… raw design from my mind. It’s not finished yet.’ ‘I think it’s perfect the way it is.’ Thorin breathes. ‘Can you make it?’

You stare at your large sketch of a crown, fit for a queen. It’s a delicate, intricate design, inspired by the woods around the lonely mountain. But the level of its complexity is something you never have crafted before. Not that you ever worried you’d have to make it. Because after all, this is YOUR perfect crown. The one you wear in your dreams. And it should stay there.

‘Yes, I can.’ You admit reluctantly, not wanting a spoiled dwarrowdam wearing the crown of your desires. ‘But I would need special tools for this one. Tools I don’t possess. I can talk to the forge masters in Erebor for you. With the right instructions, they’ll know what to do.’ ‘I asked you.’ Thorin insists. ‘You can work in my forges.’ ‘But I told you, I won’t get accepted.’ Thorin dismisses your objections with a wave from his hand. ‘That won’t be a problem, lady Miriyan. I will order them to accept you.’ ‘You can’t just order people to do that.’ You shoot back. ‘And how many times do I have to tell you: I’m not a lady!’ ‘Hmm, weird. You look like one.’ Thorin teases. ‘Besides, lady Miriyan… haven’t you heard of the stubbornness of dwarves?’ You smirk. ‘I’ve had my fair share of dealing with a certain stubborn king, thank you.’ ‘Then you should know you’d better oblige.’ Thorin chuckles.

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It’s a few days after Thorin’s visit when you pack your tools and head for the lonely mountain. Your heart is pounding in your chest as you arrive before the gates of Erebor. As you pass a group of wealthy merchants, you instinctively pull your cloak closer around your body and lower your head. You don’t need them calling you out for your foreign looks. Luckily, they’re too busy discussing their trades to notice you. You heave sigh, relieved.

‘Who are you? And what’s your business in Erebor?’ the guard asks you as he is eyeing you suspiciously. You now look up. ‘I’m Miriyan and I’m a jewelry maker.’ You reply. ‘I’m here to see the king.’ ‘The king doesn’t have time for you.’ The guard says. ‘He has enough skilled dwarves in the forges working for him. He doesn’t need you.’ ‘He requested for me to work in the forges for him.’ You insist. ‘You’re a woman… Women are not capable of making jewelry.’ the guard scoffs. ‘Besides, what race are you, exactly? A half breed?’ ‘I’m human. And I traveled in king Thorin’s company to reclaim the mountain. I’ve seen the wrath of the dragon, the horrors of battle. I’ve helped building up his kingdom again!’ You hold your chin up high as you speak to him and as you do, you notice a change in his eyes. It’s like he suddenly remembers the tales of a beauty with the silver hair and golden eyes, traveling along Thorin Oakenshield’s side in his quest to reconquer the mountain.

‘Don’t you dare to refuse lady Miriyan!’

Both you and the guard turn to see who’s calling at him. Your mouth curves into a smile. ‘Balin!’ ‘It’s great to see you, lass!’ he beams and he spreads his arms so he can embrace you. ‘I’ve missed you guys so much!’ you confess as you let the old warrior hug you tightly. ‘We missed you more.’ He tells you. ‘Come.’

Balin gives the guard a dirty look when you both pass him. ‘Was he insulting you, my lady?’ he inquires. You shrug. ‘It was nothing, Balin. I’ll be fine. Really.’ ‘I don’t understand why people treat you this way.’ He ponders. ‘You are so kind, so respectful.’ ‘It’s because of the way I look.’ ‘What’s wrong with the way you look?’ Balin exclaims.

You could tell him exactly what’s wrong with you, but at the moment you’re not in the mood for that. Instead Balin navigates you through the labyrinth of hallways as he talks about life in Erebor and inquires after your health and daily life at the city of Dale. ‘Look, now we’re on more familiar territory.’ He declares as you enter the heart of the mountain.

Near the throne room.

‘Who is that?’ you say softly as you near a beautiful young dwarrowdam. Oh, she is fair. Her long black locks wave over her back and her green eyes compliment her flawless skin. She’s so pretty, and she knows it. ‘Her name is Priya.’ Balin explains. ‘And the dwarf lord next to her is her uncle, lord Stormdust. He wants Thorin to court her.’ ‘He should. She is beautiful.’ You declare, trying to hide the hurt that swells up in your voice. Balin chuckles. ‘Maybe. But she’s got quite the attitude and you know him well enough to tell such a match won’t work.’ ‘Excuse me, girl.’ Lord Stormdust breaks into your conversation by pushing you away in a rude manner. He turns to Balin. ‘I need to see the king today, Balin. There are some important matters we need to discuss.’ ‘In time.’ Balin answers as he shows one of his diplomatic smiles. ‘The king is busy at the moment.’ ‘Where is he?’ lord Stormdust presses. ‘It’s urgent.’ ‘I don’t know where he is.’ Balin replies. ‘But he told me he couldn’t be disturbed all morning. I will see to it he will speaks to you this afternoon.’ ‘But-’ the dwarf lord begins. ‘This afternoon you’ll be able to see him.’ Balin interrupts.

You smile apologetically at him and his niece while Balin urges you to resume your way to the forges again. ‘He’s quite eager to persuade Thorin, isn’t he?’ you say quietly. ‘Yes.’ Balin mutters. ‘Between you and me, lassie… I don’t like him.’ ‘Me neither.’ You acknowledge. ‘Come one. Let’s bring you to the forges. Thorin awaits you.’ ‘Thorin does what?’ you stammer. ‘He wanted to lead you around the workplaces himself.’ Balin simply says. ‘I told him he had no time for it, but he ordered me to make some.’ ‘I’m sorry, Balin. I didn’t ask him to.’ You tell him. ‘I can take care of myself.’ ‘I said the same to him.’ The old warrior smiles. ‘But yet he was unmoved.’

You slowly make your way down to the forges. Although you’ve been here many times, though mostly only briefly, the mightiness of the great fires and huge anvils never stops to amaze you. Dozens of dwarfs are working together in the large space and the vibe that dominates the room makes you want to pick up an hammer and work with them. You cannot help but feel excited for your upcoming task. ‘Lady Miriyan!’ Thorin greets you with a smile. ‘My king.’ You answer and make a reverence.

That’s odd. You’ve never seen him smile like this.

‘Shall I show you around?’ Thorin proposes as he holds out his hand. You place your hand in his. ‘Yes, I’d like that.’

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It’s in the middle of the night when you silently descend the stairs to the forges. You’ve been in Erebor for a few weeks now, working almost every waking hour on the Queen’s crown and matching courting beads. Thorin and you agreed that you should make those pieces first. If he likes them, you will to stay at Erebor to craft the rest of the royal jewelry. If he doesn’t, you can return home. Although you both know you can pull it off, the agreement makes you feel safe. If you can’t deal with the fact you’re in his proximity almost every day (and more specifically: the flock of dwarrowdams around him), all you have to do is screw up the designs. Or just leave the work in the hands of the other skilled dwarf masters in the forges.

You heave a sigh. It’s wonderful to be able to work with these fantastic tools and precious metals down here, but the dwarf nobles on the upper levels are driving you insane. You spend most of your time down here, but at some point you have to return to your room. Or get out of it, to get to your work place. It’s terrible. The dwarf nobles just stare at you when you’re in their presence. Especially the dwarrowdams like to gossip about you and don’t even care that you know they do.

‘Have you seen her eyes? Her hair?’ ‘What is she anyway?’ ‘I heard she’s a half blood.’ ‘Have you noticed those trousers she’s wearing? She’s a female!’ ‘She’s an abomination. I’ve never seen someone so ugly…’ ‘Does she want to make a statement in those clothes?’ ‘No men will ever want HER.’

You shake your head in an effort to stop remembering the remarks, but they keep flooding through your memory. That Priya and her uncle are the worst of the nobles. They are fully aware that you’re the one that crafts the royal jewelry for Thorin and they try to win you over by being overly friendly to you. In your face, that is. Once you turn your back again, you already can hear Priya starting to whisper to the other females. ‘She’s so ugly… I can’t believe she dares to walk around like this…’

You groan. You hate that bitch even more than the other dwarrowdams. She’s cunning, trying to get the crown by backstabbing the others and forging filthy alliances. How can such an evil girl become Thorin’s queen? You can only pray Thorin is immune for her advances. Because if she succeeds, you’ll never be able to see him again… You flinch as your mind pictures them together. You don’t want to see them kiss, you don’t want to see her belly growing as she carries his child…

‘Stop it!’ you hiss as you slam your hammer unto the anvil.

You want to work, after all you still need to make the carvings into the courting beads, but you know you should take a break. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. Alright, breathe. Everything will be fine. The crown is done. You just have finish those carvings and then you can go back to bed. Or even home. You turn around and want to start working again when your hand accidently touches the hot metal that’s on your anvil. You curse yourself for that single moment of inattentiveness and tears well up in your eyes. Damn, this hurts!

‘OUCH!’

You bite in your other hand to keep yourself from crying out loud any further. It’s hard to believe, but you’ve never burned yourself before and for a moment you’re clueless. The pain makes your brain hazy and you have no idea what to do. Rough large hands come to your aid and lift you up like you’re as light as a feather. ‘You need water to cool the burn down.’ Thorin rumbles as he rushes you to the nearest water fountain.

Thorin?

‘What are you doing down here?’ you stutter. ‘It’s past midnight.’ ‘I could ask the same thing of you.’ Thorin mutters as he gently lowers your hand in the water stream. You whimper. ‘It hurts, but eventually the water will soothe the skin.’ He tells you. ‘After that I will take you to the infirmary.’ ‘I’m fine.’ You protest. ‘I need to finish the beads!’ ‘Later.’ He urges.

Minutes pass and you’re still not allowed to pull your hand from the water. You have to admit that the water really is calming your skin down, but Thorin’s proximity makes it hard for you to breathe anyway. He refuses to let go of you, so here you are… In his arms. It’s the best and worst feeling in the world. You want to stay there forever, but you know this is impossible. You’ll never be in his arms again.

‘Can I-’ you begin, for the thousandth time. ‘No.’ Thorin growls. ‘A few more minutes.’ ‘But…’ ‘Don’t you dare to make the burn worse by removing your hand.’ He threatens. ‘Don’t make it worse. It’s all my fault.’ You frown. ‘How could this be your fault?’ ‘I asked you to do this.’ He replies, his expression taunted. ‘I was the one who didn’t pay attention.’ You whisper. ‘I don’t see what you’ve got to do with my inattentiveness.’

Well… strictly he did, because he and his stupid dwarrowdams were on your mind when it happened… But you would never tell him that.

Thorin shakes his head. ‘You feel obliged to work on my assignment every waking minute you’ve got. If I didn’t make you feel this way, this should never have happened.’ ‘You don’t make me feel this way.’ You sigh. ‘I’m…’ Thorin’s eyes burn through your soul and you know he doesn’t believe you. ‘Infirmary.’ He says as he lifts you further up. ‘I can walk!’ you shout. Thorin ignores you and takes you up the stairs. ‘I won’t allow you down here for the next few days.’ He simply states. ‘You need to rest.’

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You’ve spend a full day in the infirmary and therefore you have lost precious time. An hour ago, Oín finally decided that you’re well enough to leave again. He has put some kind of ointment on your hand and bandaged it. Although you had to promise him to rest for the night in your room, you’re stubborn and make your way down the forges again. Thorin will kill you if he finds out, but you don’t care.

You descend the stairs and with each step, you can feel the immense heat that the forges produce getting heavier. Someone is working down here… You frown. How? It’s not even dawn yet.... You’re used to being alone here during the nights… You hesitate for a moment and linger on the staircase before you decide you’ve got every right to be here. You take the last steps down and enter the large space.

The forges are up and running and you can already hear the sounds of an hammer pounding into hard steel. You slowly make your way to the occupied anvil.

‘I told you not to come down here for the next couple of days.’ Thorin grumbles when he sees you. You just stand there, completely mesmerized by his bared chest. It takes all of you not to gape at the sexy sight. ‘I was curious.’ You manage to say. ‘I wanted to see how my crown is doing. She’s finished.’

You bite your lip when you realize what you’ve said. My crown. Oh no.

‘Your crown is so beautiful.’ Thorin responds as he picks the object up and holds it in his hand. You study his face to see what he actually thinks about your remark, but he’s a master in hiding his emotions. ‘I saw it when I came down here.’ Thorin continues as he lets it gliding through his hands. ‘I don’t think anyone could’ve done a better job.’ You blush. ‘Thank you.’ You say. ‘I’m glad you like it, my king.’ ‘I do.’ Thorin agrees and he walks up to you.

Before you can take a step back, he puts the crown on your head.

‘What are you doing?!’ you cry out as you lift the delicate jewelry from your head again almost immediately. ‘It’s a perfect fit.’ He whispers. ‘Don’t you see?’

You frown and stare at him. He stares back. Although it’s extremely hot in the room, you know that’s not what’s making your breathing shallow and your cheeks burning. Thorin takes a step closer, reducing the space between you and him until you can feel his hot breath on your skin. You bite your lip again. You’ve always admired his good looks from a safe distance, but to watch him from up so close is a true privilege. His gaze bores into you and the intensity in which he watches you almost makes you moan.

‘You look stunning.’ Thorin groans. ‘Forgive me.’

Just when you want to ask him WHY he is apologizing, he pulls you into his arms. He is so close… His lips brush briefly over yours before he leans in and starts kissing you gently. It takes everything of you not let a soft whimper leaving you. His mouth is so warm and his lips are… so much softer than you could ever imagine. The crown slips from your grip and with a loud clatter it falls on the stone floor, but you’re both too caught up in the kiss to care. Your arms are around his waist. His hands are caressing your soft silver hair and you cannot help but to... It’s so good, it’s too much… You are starting to question your orientation!

‘But…’ you stutter as he finally lets go of your lips. You breathe heavily and just stare at him, not capable to form coherent sentences anymore. ‘I don’t WANT to court any of those spoiled dwarrowdams. Especially not someone like Priya. She stands for everything I hate in a woman. She cannot be my queen.’ Thorin confesses. ‘But she’s the niece of your most influential nobleman’ you try. ‘I don’t care.’ He interrupts you. ‘I never cared for her. Or the others.’ ‘You should.’ You whisper. ‘Maybe. But they weren’t there, were they?’ Thorin states. ‘You were, lady Miriyan. In my darkest hours, you were there. One of the few that didn’t leave when I started to lose my mind.’ ‘I did what I had to.’ You object. ‘No. You didn’t have to do it. I’m not your king. You owe me nothing.’ Thorin remarks. He strokes your cheek and smiles. ‘But yet you always were there for me. You never judged me for my weakness. You didn’t question me. Didn’t try to talk sense into me. You just listened. You made sure I wouldn’t have to face the darkness alone.’

The lump in your throat makes it impossible for you to speak, so instead you just nod. ‘I loved you since the moment I saw you.’ Thorin declares. ‘But I didn’t know if you felt the same. Until you refused to give up on me.’ Thorin suddenly frowns, like he remembers something he’d rather forget. ‘But when I finally regained my senses, you packed your things and you left… And I couldn’t persuade you to stay.’ ‘I needed to-’ you begin, but Thorin puts his finger over your lips. ‘There I was. It made me painfully aware that I possessed all the wealth in the world, but yet I couldn’t have the greatest treasure of all… You, Miriyan.’

‘Don’t you see?’ you blaze, unable to reign your feelings any longer. ‘Don’t you understand I had NO choice but to leave?’ ‘There’s always a choice, my sweet amrâlimê.’ Thorin responds, not impressed by your sudden bravura. ‘I love you.’ You blurt out. ‘And I’m NOT going to stick around watching you court someone else. I can’t. You cannot ask that of me.’ ‘I won’t.’ he answers. ‘But I will ask you this…’

He shows you the courting beads you were working on. The carvings he made are beautiful and make you gasp. ‘You finished them?’ you breathe against his chest. ‘Yes. For you.’ He answers. ‘I don’t understand…’ you say. Thorin smiles and gently pushes your chin upwards, so your eyes can meet his.

‘My lady Miriyan…’ he whispers softly. ‘Will you allow me to court you? Will you be my queen?’