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minkdelovely · 2 months

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love and power

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chapter two

“i come loaded with the

safety switch on.”

Alastor x Fem!Reader ; MDNI 18+ ; [y/n] used sparingly ; Alias in Hell is Sylvie

tags/warnings: blood, sensory overload, vomit, implied cannibalism, descriptions of graphic violence, power dynamics, non-consensual touching, valentino sighting, slow burn eventual: smut

word count: 2.5k

author’s note: i just wanted to give a huge shoutout to @hazelfoureyes for being so gracious to let me tag her here as inspo! if you haven’t already, please go check out her work - she’s seriously sooo talented and awoke my need for more interaction between alastor and valentino lol

prelude ; chapter one ; chapter two ; chapter three ; chapter four ; chapter five ; chapter six ; chapter seven ; chapter eight ; chapter nine

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Alastor had insisted that you walk back to the hotel, your arm linked under his as he paraded you through the remainder of the city like a proud parent.

You tried to fight feeling grateful for the support since he could have easily teleported you back to the hotel, but you gripped his arm all the same. The adrenaline dump had left you feeling so depleted and all you wanted was to be back in your bed. Snippets of what happened in the alley raced through your mind’s eye, and you shook your head, trying to keep them at bay. Did you really have the capacity to be that enraged? That violent? Apparently you did…

The blood was drying tight on your face, contrasting with the slick, heavy feeling of fabric latching to the skin of your chest. You could feel yourself winding up, overwhelmed and uncomfortable by the mess you were covered in. There wasn’t a part of you that felt clean and you were desperate with the need to remove your dress. Tears blurred the edge of your vision when you fixated on the taste in your mouth, barely managing to pull away from Alastor before you fell to your knees and vomited.

Bile, blood, and… It was the tipping point.

No longer able to hold it back, the sob you released was closer to a scream. What had you done? You couldn’t fight the images flashing in your mind; the sound of screams and flesh tearing, an airway so saturated with blood it bubbled. How it felt when your teeth punctured flesh, no easier than biting into a piece of fruit. Your mouth filling with blood… and swallowing. And that wasn’t all you had swallowed, was it?

It wasn’t until you started frantically tearing at the collar of your dress that Alastor approached from behind you, grabbing your wrists easily in his large hands.

“Now, now, that simply won’t do,” he chided cooly in your ear, radio static gone, his presence large and stable behind you. “I thought a walk might help you to calm down, but at least you managed to save this episode from prying eyes. Be a big girl now and stop crying, we’re nearly home.”

You couldn’t see through the tears as he pulled you up to your feet, his hands releasing you as soon as you were standing. A throb of pain rocked your head and you choked out a final sob, trying to steady your breath as you rubbed your burning, swollen eyes.

Why was he being so patient with you? He had been in a good mood ever since he found you in the alley, not even bothered by the fact that the clothes you had been sent to pick up were soiled and needed to be returned to the cleaners. And how had he even found you in the first place? Was he following you?

“Oh, my dear, you look like the stuff of nightmares!” Alastor said in his usual static, not sounding at all sorry for you. Hell, he probably meant it as a compliment. “Remind me to ask what that poor creature did to earn your wrath.”

With that, he hooked your arm again and led you up the hill.

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“What the fuck happened to you?!” Angel shouted from the bar when you entered the lobby. Husk nearly dropped the glass in his hand, but managed to recover, his face pale.

Thankfully, your audience was just the two of them. You wouldn’t have known what to do if everyone had been there to see you in this state. Dread came over you then, thinking of what it will be like to finally stand in front of a mirror. Your empty stomach churned.

“Not to worry, Angel, the blood isn’t hers. Poor thing ran into a bit of trouble running errands, but that’s all been taken care of, hasn’t it?” Alastor cooed, resting his hand on your shoulder as he peered down at you.

“Well don’t just stand there, let her get cleaned up before anyone else sees! Niffty’s gonna have a fucking fit when she finds the mess on that carpet,” Husk said to Alastor, shaking his head in exasperation.

Alastor’s fingers dug into you at being rebuked, but you were more focused on the muted plop sounds of blood falling to the carpet from the laundry bag. Had it really just been an hour since you had picked it up? You were so tired it was hard to believe that it was still only morning.

“Yeah, don’t worry, toots. We won’t tell no one about your, uh… day out,” Angel said delicately, raising his hand with a suave smile. “Scout’s honor. Though I gotta say, I think you look fuckin’ badass. Whoever it was got what was coming to ’em.”

You huffed out a small laugh, managing to give him a weak smile before Alastor enveloped you both in shadow.

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Angel and Husk watched as you and Alastor disappeared, giving themselves a moment until they felt like it was safe enough for them to talk again.

“So… what the actual fuck, am I right?” Angel half-laughed, taking a swig from his glass. “I think she fuckin’ ate somebody.”

Husk hummed, nodding his head slightly in agreement. “Definitely not impossible. I just hope he didn’t put her up to it.”

“You really think he’d do somethin’ like that, Husk? I mean, sure, he’s been bossin’ her around but… forcin’ her to eat someone? Seems extreme.”

Husk sighed, giving him a defeated look. Angel shook his head, eyebrow peaked in disbelief. Ignoring the phone buzzing in his pocket, he finished his drink.

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Despite how much you had been looking forward to it, it felt strange to be back in your room. Everything was the same as how you’d left it, but it almost felt like nothing here belonged to you anymore. The room was so still, quiet except for the sounds of Alastor rooting around in your ensuite bathroom. What he could possibly be looking for, you didn’t know, nor did you really care. You were so tempted to just collapse on the bed…

The shower turned on and you sighed, closing your eyes to enjoy the soothing sound it made. It was a peace short-lived, your eyes flying open when you felt fingers at the back of your neck undo the button of your collar, followed quickly by cool air against your spine as Alastor unzipped you. You stiffened and moved away, turning to face him, bringing your arms up to keep the dress from slipping off your shoulders to the floor.

The rebuttal died in your throat when he laughed, stepping towards you in your retreat.

“Testy, aren’t we? I was merely trying to help, and this is the thanks I get?”

His eyes narrowed when you moved farther away in response. Would he ever stop toying with you?

“Alastor, please, I’m too tired for this,” you pleaded, glancing at the bathroom behind you as you fought back a fresh wave of tears. You knew he wouldn’t like it if you started crying again.

“Which is exactly why I’m trying to help! Surely, you aren’t insinuating that my intentions were anything but courteous?” He said it casually enough but you could feel the threat veiled underneath as he continued his way to you. “Seeing how my clothes need laundering again, I figured you’d want me to take the dress as well. It was a gift, after all.”

“I’ll take it myself,” you tried to say evenly, looking away from him. He was hovering over you now, effectively making you feel small. “And I didn’t think you were—”

He tipped your chin to look up at him and licked the pad of his thumb on his free hand. You stood frozen stiff as he used it to wipe your cheek, not daring to upset him more by pulling away. Somewhere in the back of your mind, the truth of how completely in control he was over you sunk in, killing whatever was left of the hope you had of staying under his radar. Silently, you watched as he brought his thumb back to his mouth, but your breath hitched as he sucked off the residue. The look in his eyes made you want to disappear, and you hoped the tear-streaked mess on your face was able to hide the blush now burning your cheeks.

“Sylvie… shouldn’t you be getting in the shower? Or is wasting water another bad habit of yours?” he said, voice low and face smug.

Without thinking, you jerked your face out of his hand and quickly pulled the dress off, shoving it at his chest. Before he could say another word you were in the bathroom, using all the restraint you had left not to slam the door in his face. Leaning against the door, you could hear him laughing as he made his way out of your room. Finally there was silence, and you slid to the floor with your face in your hands, swallowing against the feeling of your heart in your throat. And worse, you weren’t sure if the tightness in your chest was shame… or something else.

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Niffty was already hard at work removing the blood stains in the lobby, mumbling to herself as Alastor passed through to make his way back to Cannibal Town. Making sure to give Husk a knowing, pompous grin, and receiving a scowl in return, he walked out the hotel. Alastor couldn’t recall the last time he had enjoyed himself so much before noon. Whatever else the day had in store he couldn’t know, though it would be tough to beat.

The taste that lingered in his mouth was bordering on cruel, a gamble he wasn’t sure he had properly hedged the bet of. Regret wasn’t something Alastor felt often, if at all, and he would vehemently deny it even if he did. Was it regret he felt at tasting the blood that dried on your face? No. While the blood itself was subpar — it had come from some vile creature, after all — it had been transformed by your skin chemistry and tears, creating a flavor that was robust and surprising. Had it not been for decades of tempering his self-control, Alastor worried briefly in the back of his mind that he might have done something drastic; hence allowing himself just the one taste. And apparently doomed to savor it until opportunity presented itself.

He couldn’t help passing by the alley as he made his way through the city, unsurprised to see that your victim was still lying there, stripped of clothes and whatever possible valuables he had possessed. It would be at least a week before he recovered from the attack. A thought passed through Alastor’s mind and his antler’s grew in response to the idea, mouth curling up in a fanged, sinister grin. Passersby ran away in horror.

It wasn’t until Alastor walked into the dry cleaners that the armor of his good mood chipped. Of all the fiends in Hell, Valentino was the least of whom he ever expected to run into here. Cannibal Town wasn’t a sanctuary in the true sense, but its culture did manage to deter most of the demons Alastor deemed undesirable. A peace he was not willing to part with. Though clearly someone had tipped Valentino off about how to blend in here, as he was without his gaudy trademark robe, instead donning a shockingly respectable black suit.

Alastor had no grudge with Valentino, he simply just didn’t respect him. Getting sinners to sign themselves over to you in promise of fame was so trite. How Valentino could be proud to call himself an Overlord was a mystery, unless he was truly that shameless. Or more likely, from what Alastor had overheard Angel saying to others in passing, oblivious. Both seemed correct. While Alastor could suffer a fool, anyone who would bend under Vox’s will really wasn’t worthy of his concern or energy.

Valentino turned at the ringing of the bell over the door, with what could only be described as a shit-eating grin as he took in the sight of The Radio Demon.

“Well fuck me, if it isn’t the big, brave hero! I thought Adam sent you to Super Hell, but I guess you would be too stubborn to die,” Valentino said haughtily, taking a drag off his cigarette. “How’s the wound, flaco?”

Internally Alastor bristled, but he maintained his facade of nonchalance. It wasn’t surprising that the Vees had found out about what happened between him and Adam. Of course it irritated him all the same, considering that the battle between the two of them wasn’t quite public knowledge. For now, all Alastor could do was keep the fact that the Vees knew in his back pocket and work on a plan of action to counteract it, should need arise.

“Wound is a bit strong, Valentino, but as they say: what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger! You’re too kind, inquiring after my health,” Alastor responded jovially, though the smile on his face was cold and menacing. “I must say, I never thought I’d see you here. I didn’t think Cannibal Town would be an ideal place for you to… scout.”

Valentino scoffed through a strained smile. “No shit. There are a lot of kinks out there, but ‘ragtime cannibal freaks’ isn’t one of them.” He paused to take another drag, continuing as he exhaled red smoke, “But this is the only place that can actually get all the stains out of my shit. Looks like I’m not alone in that department. Busy morning?” He gave a pointed look at the bloody laundry bag hanging off Alastor’s arm.

“You could say that,” Alastor teased, finally making his way up to the counter. The employee took the bag with a smile and removed the suit from its paper covering. Your dress was hanging in an armoire back in Alastor’s suite. He never intended to get it laundered. “Send my regards to Velvette. I haven’t had the chance to tell her how much I enjoyed her input at the last meeting you were apparently too busy to attend.”

Before the moth demon could say anything his cell phone rang, and Valentino answered as he gave Alastor the finger in response, opening the door to leave. “What do you mean, Donny hasn’t fucking showed up yet?!”

And then he was gone, yelling at his phone in the middle of Cannibal Town. Bold.

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When you woke up your room was dark, save for the light of a sconce near your door, the throbbing in your forehead making itself immediately known. The headache wasn’t surprising considering how much you had cried, nor was the pang of hunger you felt. You didn’t feel ready to eat anything yet though, but you definitely needed to get some water in your system.

Slowly, you got yourself out of bed, pausing for a moment to breathe through the stiffness in your body. Even when you had fled from Alastor earlier, your bathroom had never seemed as far away as it did now. It wasn’t until you were practically in front of it that you noticed the red dress hanging from your bathroom door, a note peaking out from the left pocket of the white, ruffled apron attached to its waist. It was a brief message, but impactful all the same.

I believe red suits you best. - Alastor

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tag list: @fairyv-ice

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fan fiction #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor x female reader #alastor smut #hazbin hotel smut #slow burn #song fic #if i can’t have love i want power #love and power #x reader #alastor the radio demon #the radio demon #hazbin hotel slow burn

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nerdburritos · 6 months

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You Taste Like The Sun

Summary: You've been invited to attend the annual noble's ball, hosted by no other than Lord Astarion Ancunìn himself. While you father was busy hunting possible husbands for you, the Lord himself couldn't keep his eyes off you. You had no idea that by the end of the night, you'd be engaged to your host - if it wasn't for one tiny detail: you've never even been kissed before. Maybe Lord Ancunìn could help you with that?

pairing: Astarion/f!Reader | Astarion/f!Tav rating: mature tags/warnings: kissing, fluff, arranged marriage word count: 2.6k read on ao3: You Taste Like The Sun

a/n: english isn't my first language so please excuse any spelling mistakes or grammatical errors!

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The ballroom was absolutely packed with noble people but what did you expect? The annual ball hosted by Lord Ancunìn was not to be missed, it was considered a huge honour to be invited at all. It was your first time attending this year, you father dragged you along with him in hopes of finally finding a possible husband for you, even though that was the last thing you wanted. You enjoyed your freedom, loved your studies and had no need for a man in your life. "They're like children!" your mother once said, but she'd been smiling while looking at your father. They were in love, you've never been, it's a feeling you've yet to experience. Most people your age with your social status were usually married to someone of equal status, love or not, before ending up alone but you've always needed something more - a real connection, trust and at least the possibility of love. The so called "suitors" your family had in mind offered none of that. You sighed, sorting out your beautiful ball gown, before you picked up another flute of champagne, making your way across the room to greet some more pople, have some small talk - it'd be considered rude not to. Before you could reach Lady Belgamour at the end of the room you felt something, or rather someone, bump into you, spilling the champagne all over your expensive dress, you mother would be furious.

"Forgive me, my Lady, how terribly rude of me!" a dark, husky voice immediatley apologized, an arm wrapped around your waist, steadying you. You looked up, it was your host, Lord Ancunìn. He was dressed in a white doublet with gold ebroidery as well as matching slacks which complimented his pale skin tone and white-greyish hair fabously. He almost looked like an angel, if it wasn't for the red eyes. A fallen angel, maybe. Your host took out a silk handkerchief, proceeding to try and clean your delicate dress and you blushed at his attention. He was an incredibly attractive man, a bachelor nontheless, the whole city was after him - young women, old women, married women, hells - even men! He pocketed his handekrchief, making eye contact with you once again. "I'm sorry about your dress, I'll cover the expense for the dry cleaner, of course." Gods, he relly had some stellar manners.

"O-oh Lord Ancunìn, this is not necessary, I did not watch where I was going, it was entirely my fault..." You studdered - of course you'd embarrass yourself in front of the most powerful and attractive man in the city.

"Nonsense, I'll take care of it. Now, I don't think we've been formerly introduced yet, I'm Lord Astarion Ancunìn and you are?" You qucikly introduced youself, bowing slightly as you've been taught, he was a Lord after all, and Astarion gently took your hand, placing a sweet kiss on top of it. "A pleasure, my Lady. I've been wondering when you would finally grace us with your presence, you father is keeping you sheltered but I can hardly blame him with a daughter as beautiful as you." Your face turned beet red at his honeyed words, which Astarion seemed to enjoy, he was quite the sweet talker. The attentions of men were not unfamiliar to you but none of them had a way with words like Astarion did. The Lord offered his arm. "May I have this dance, my Lady?" You could see your father from the distance, looking quite happy about your current situation with the Lord, he probably got his hopes up already. You linked your arm with Astarion's and followed him to the dancefloor, where he immediately settled one hand on your waist, pushing you closer to him and began to flawlessy lead you through a Waltz. He was an exceptional dancer and your heart raced being so close to him. He smelled faintly of bergamot and rosemary,a really nice and sexy combination. Truth to be told, he was everything you could wish for - handsome, polite, a great dancer and true gentleman but something inside you told you that there was more to thim that just that but what was it? Maybe he might be a freak in the sheets? You certainly hoped so and giggled. Astarion lowered his gaze, smiking slightly.

"Are my dance skills so terribly amusing?" he joked, twirling you around the dancefloor playfully, catching you in his arms again as the other guests applauded with delight.

"Oh no, my Lord." you laughed as he spun you around. "I'm simply enjoying myself."

"I am glad to hear that such a stunning Lady is enjoying my company, I do feel very honoured." And there was that damned blush on your face again. You could simply not deal with open and honest compliments from handsome and succesful men like him apparently. But maybe it wasn't even the compliments, maybe it was just him...and he was so aware of it. A smug smirk was gracing his lips. Maybe he had a thing of riling innocent little things like you up? It didn't really matter now, did it? The Waltz came to a stop, Astarion now bowing in front of you. "It was a pleasure, my Lady. How about a stroll in the gardens to cool down a bit?" He offered his arm again with a soft smile.

"But your other guests..."

"Can very well deal without me. Please, allow me." Astarion guided you out of the ballroom into the lavish gardens, one hand around you waist once again but still keeping a respectful distance. The gardens were beautiful, decorated with more fairy lights than you could count, creating an almost magical environment with all the differend kinds of flowers blooming at this time of the year.

"What a beautiful garden." You complimented, attempting to make small talk. You were feeling quite nervous in his presence, hoping you wouldn't embarrass yourself again. Normally, you'd not give a single shit about the opinion of a man but Astarion was different somehow, even though you just met him. He was different than all of them and not just because he was richer than all of the Lords combined but because his efforts with you seemend honest, almost genuine. Or maybe it was all a very practiced act, a façade, you weren't quite sure but wasn't it all? In a world full of arranged marriages, a façade was all they could offer.

"Thank you." He seemed quite happy with your compliment. "So, do you like flowers?" You nodded enthusiastically and started to ramble about your passion for gardening (which was unbecoming for a Lady, your maid has said) and favorite kinds of flowers. Astarion seemd intrigued - he actually listened and nodded at the right times before picking up a tiny flower, tucking it into your hair. "Beautiful." he whispered and you weren't quite sure if he meant the flower or you. You wandered further into the gardens, the noise from the palace nearly dying down and reached a small lake. "So, you father told me you're exceeing expectations in your studies?"

"Oh dear." you laughed. "My father can't help but praise me, apparently." Astarion laughed.

"It's all he does at our annual meetings. He's quite proud, you know." A warm feeling settled in your stomach, making your family proud was one of the most important things for you. You father has been working so hard after all. "And I can't blame him I mean, by the God's, look at you." he whispered.

"I...uh...what?" you studdered, now that was really not ladylike at all, you maid would scowl you for that.

"You're breathtaking." Astarion admitted. The High Lord himself admitted that you, you of all people, were breathtaking. You had no idea how to deal with that information.

"Oh, my Lord. There are far prettier creatures out there than me." You chuckled but telling the truth. You didn't think of yourself as beautiful or smart or anything else, you were normal, average even. Your lack of self-esteem usually really bothered your mother but it was the truth after all, wasn't it?

"No." he shook his head. "They all just pretend to be." Astarion snarled. "They pretend to be pretty, while throwing on all the make up they possess. You are naturally beautiful. The way your freckles shine in the moonlight is spectacular." he whispered, taking a few steps closer to you. "You are an exceptional dancer, none of them could even compare and you have manners, you behave like a Lady while still having quite some spite..." You whole body went rigid. Shit.

"My Lord, if any of my actions have offended you..." Astarion waved you off immediately.

"Not at all, my dear. I did quite enjoy it, actually. I have no use for a wife who just serves and lives to obey, where is the fun in that? While I appreciate your perfect manners, I do hope you have a few naughty sides." He smirked while you let his words sink in. No use for a wife? Wife? Wife. Wife! Oh Gods...

"W-wife, my Lord?" you asked carefully, staring in disbelief as he pulled you closer to him.

"Why, of course. That's why you're here, isn't it? I'm sure you're aware that you father is searching for a husband for you." You huffed, of course he was, that's why he dragged you along in the first place. "Trust me, a few of his candidates shouldn't even be up for discussion, vile creatures, like they deserve you..." he snapped. "But I'm quite sad he didn't consider me." Astarion pouted palyfully, trying to ease the tension. You weren't sure if your family was in huge trouble because your father never considered him or if he was just playing with you.

"Lord Ancunìn, I am sure my father meant no harm!" you quickly explained. "We are far below your status, surely you would never consider the daughter of a simple-" He shut you up by placing a finger on your mouth.

"Don't tell me what I want." He stated calmly, pulling you flush agsinst him. "I guess your father would be more than pleased with me as your future husband." You had no idea what to say. This was not the way you imagined the night would go. "Or you could go on and marry one of the other fools if you so please." You quickly shook your head. No, never, worst nightmare. Astarion was the perfect choice, your parents would be over the moon, surely. "Well, then it's settled."

"Why do you even need a wife?" You quickly blurted out, immediately regeretting your choice of words but you couldn't help but wonder. Had he ulterior moves?

"Well, first of all it grants me, and you family, a certain political immunity. Two Lords combining forces and families is something to be considered across the realms, an alliance would be helpful for both sides and to be frank? Society expects a marriage from both of us. So why not work together, hm?" he smirked. "I don't want to marry the next decent girl. My wife should be educated in all kinds of things, well read, strong political knowledge, perfectly mannered and kind while still being herself. I don't want a doll who obeys all my commands - I want a partner, an advisor. I can see you filling that position more than anyone." That was good enough for you. You knew that if you didn't take him up for his offer, you father would quickly find someone else - someone worse. There was no better match than Lord Astarion Ancunìn, you basically won the jackpot.

"Very well, I agree." Astarion smirked.

"In that case, let's seal the deal as any lovers would." he commented playfully and leaned closer, tilting his head towards yours...oh my God, he was going to kiss you. You quickly put some distance between him and yourself, Astarion took a few steps back.

"Excuse me. I meant no harm, I assure you." he quickly apologized. Yes, the Lord had quite the reptutation amongst the noble women (apparently he was an exeptional lover, quite selfless) but he seemed really distraught by your refusal. Not hurt but angry at himself. Ugh, it's not like you didn't want to kiss him, there was just a tiny issue...

"I've never been kissed." you quickly blurted out, blushing with embarrasment as you stared at the ground, your heels seeming quite interesting all of a sudden. Astarion froze, then he smirked and closed the distance between you two once again. He quickly placed a gentle, warm hand on your cheek, grasping your chin with other hand, lifting our face up to meet his gaze.

"That's what this is about?" he asked gently, you nodded. Well, it's not like you had the chance to practice a lot without a proper partner. "I didn't mean to pressure you." You nodded, feeling relived. So he did care about consent - good. "I just thought a beautiful Lady like you had thousands of opportunities..." you gasped, he smirked.

"What kind of Lady do you take me for? A common harlot?" Astarion laughed, and what a beautiful sound it was.

"Oh no, my love, absolutely not but men are vile creatures so please do forgive me." You chuckled, still in his arms as he gazed down at you almost lovingly. "Sooooo, about that kiss..."

"You scoundrel!" You giggled as you playfully pushed him, he seemed to enjoy teasing you. "But I guess I can indulge you? It might not be good..." you warned, your heart already racing, you'd probably make a fool out of yourself in a few seconds. He had all this experience and you didn't...

"Nonsense!" he took your face in both hands, gently stroking your cheeks with his thumbs and placed a gentle but long peck on your lips - nothing more. A sweet, gentle kiss without any intentions but full of adoration and respect. You gasped as he pulled back, the Lord looking quite smug already. "How was that?" Astarion asked as you touched your lips.

"Really nice." you admitted. Nice? It felt incredible. His lips were so soft, the pressure was perfect, this man made your knees weak. You wanted more.

You leaned forward slightly, placing another gentle kiss to his lips as he gave you a reassuring smile and pulled you closer to him, not allowing you to part, keeping your lips pressed together. He let out a husky chuckle against your lips as he finally took a tiny step back. You already missed the feeling of his lips pressed against yours, he was addicting.

"Want some more?" Astarion whispered and you eagerly nodded. This little..tryst in the depths of his garden was highly uncalled for but you didn't even care anymore. He pressed a series of quick pecks on your lips, making you gasp before catching your bottom lip between his and sucking. You moaned, he immediately turned the innocent pecks into a full-blown open mouth kiss as you mimicked his actions, kissing him deeply for a few seconds before you felt something warm and wet enter your mouth. His tongue. You froze but Astarion rubbed small circles into your lower back, helping you relax as you let his tongue enter your mouth. It felt weird but somehow good. Gods, you couldnt believe this. This morning you were just an ordinary woman and now, not even 12 hours later, you were engaged and snogging Lord Ancunìn. You felt Astarion move, he pressed you against a nearby tree, caging you in with his strong arms as he continued to kiss you sensually. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and he let out a gentle moan, which turned you on tremendously. You parted, both gasping for air.

"You taste wonderful, my love." he murmured before leaning in again, brushing his lips softly against yours. "I can't help myself but get lost in you."

You blushed at his sweet words, maybe this whole marriage thing wouldn't end so bad after all?

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #astarion fanfic #astarion smut #astarion x female reader #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x tav #astarion x female tav #astarion romance #bg3 smut #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 reader #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #ascended astarion #vampire

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mountainsandmayhem · 5 days

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Just One More, Baby

18+, Minors Do Not Interact Pairing: Pleasure!Dom Pike x Female!Reader Word Count: 2.8k Summary: Just a casual evening with your pleasure dom husband and as many as orgasm as he thinks you can handle. There is zero plot here, people. CW: so many orgasms, light bondage, temperature play, use of pet names (baby, honey, etc.) praise kink (obviously, unless you're new here. In that case; hi, welcome, I have a praise kink), aftercare AN: I need this man more than I need food or oxygen or money. I'm out of my mind over him and I curse the day I decided to watch these random ass episodes of The Mentalist. Friendy reminder that I am phasing out my tag list, so please follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates and turn on the notifications to stay up to date. Thank you so much for reading, where's my Pike Army? XO Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

The warm oil drizzles over your mound, spreading across your hips and cunt. You let out a pained hiss when it hits your sore and overstimulated clit.

“Ouuchh,” you whine, your breathing shudders.

“You’ve been such a good girl,” Marcus murmurs, watching the oil as it beads and rolls in every direction. “Just relax.”

You close your eyes and try to steady your breathing. Relaxing the muscles in your arms and legs that have been pulling at the soft silk restraints for god knows how long as Marcus pulled orgasm after orgasm out of you.

He is still dressed, he had only managed to remove his suit jacket and tie before he started. He has the sleeves of his crisp white shirt rolled to his elbows, still tucked into the dark blue dress pants you picked up from the dry cleaner yesterday. His belt is still on, too, shoes toed off at some point during his slow torture.

You, on the other hand, are completely naked. A delicate, white silk tie around your wrists that is then looped through the headboard, stretching your arms above your head. Your ankles are held much in the same way, one tie on each ankle, keeping your legs spread wide.

He’s used every means available to him to make you come tonight; fingers, tongue, your small purple vibrator, a dildo, or a combination of one or two of those things. He’s done everything except fuck you. At some point you lost count of the orgasms, lost track of when one would end and the next would start.

The oil starts to soothe the dull ache he’s caused at the apex of your thighs. Marcus’s intention is never to cause you pain, but tonight you learned that too much pleasure can feel like torture.

You let out a content sigh, muscles going gooey and pliant. “There’s my girl,” he says proudly, his strong hands coming to your hips, his thumbs needing the muscles along the crevice of your leg and pelvis.

He clears his throat gently. “I think I counted sixteen.”

You smirk and let out a small giggle, eyes still closed as you relax into his touches. He kisses the plush skin along your lower belly. His soft velvety lips are gentle, granted Marcus Pike is always gentle. Yes, he’ll tie you down or make you orgasm so many times you black out, but he’s always soft and warm. Always asking for permissions. Always explaining exactly what’s going to happen before it does - not that you have an option, or want an option if you’re being honest.

“Baby girl?” He mumbles, his breath hitting the oil, warming your most sensitive spots. You shudder, an icy shiver running down your spine at the feel of him. “Think we can get you to twenty?”

His hands move to massage the tops of your thighs, thumbs crawling closer and closer to your pussy. Your clit twitches at the promise of him giving you another orgasm, that blissful tingle causes the tired and overworked walls of your cunt to flutter. Pleasure followed by a dull painful ache waves across your center and mix of a whine and whimper fills the room.

“What’s the matter, baby?”

His thumbs come to carefully pull apart your puffy outer lips. Watching intently as the oil coats your glistening folds. A moan rumbled in his chest, “Beautiful.”

“I’m sensitive, Marcus,” you murmur, pulling at the silk ties he has your hands bound above your head with.

“I know, this perfect little pussy has taken so much. And you’ve been so brave and submissive. I’m so proud of you, honey.” He places a light kiss on the patch of hair right above your clit.

Your orgasm happens so quickly and without him even touching you. A lustful gasp leaves your lips as you shake under him. His voice is full of lustful admiration as he says, “Good job, baby.”

Your muscles tense, hands fisting, as the orgasm rolls through you. You whine his name, equally desperate for the orgasm to end but also for it to never stop. “Just relax, that’s my good girl.”

“Oh god,” your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath.

“Look at me, darling.” Marcus said sweetly, the soft pads of his thumbs running up and down the slick lips of your pussy.

You look down at him, the soft expression of his face riddling you with emotions. You can feel the tears prickle behind your eyes. Tears of what you aren’t sure. Happiness, that’s for sure. But also a sense of overwhelm and insatiable need, it’s all mixed together. You can stop it, a hot tear runs down your flushed cheek.

“It’s ok. I’m right here,” He says softly. “You can do this, baby. Just three more, then I’ll run you a bubble bath and give you my sweat pants and all the cuddles. Can you do that? Can you give me three more?”

“No,” you say through a shaky breath. He’s trying to kill you, you’re sure of it. And while death by orgasm might sound like a great way to go, your pussy is aching and tired.

His thumbs stop their ministrations.

“Do you need to use your safe word?”

You shake your head, “No.”

He lowers his mouth to your swollen clit, lightly feathers his tongue over the tender bundle of nerves. You pull so hard on the restraints that the delicate silk snaps and your hands card through his hair, pulling him back. He has you on that paper thin line of pain and pleasure, but the slight attention to your puffy clit slices through you. “Nonono - please stop.”

“Do you need to use your safe word?” He asks again.

You shake your head no.

“Do you need me to go get some ice? Make my tongue nice and cold, then make your pussy feel better?”

“Yes, please.” You pout, sticking out your bottom lip.

Marcus stands and removes his belt. “Ok baby, but first, my naughty little girl broke her restraints. Arms up.”

You put your arms back above your head and he expertly loops the belt around your wrists. He leaves the scraps of silk that are still around your delicate wrists and then wraps the belt around the headboard.

He stands beside the bed, looking down at you hungrily. “Fuck, I could torture you for hours,” his eyes flick to the alarm clock across the from you and then back to your flushed face. Smirking a little, he corrects himself. “I already have been, so I guess I should say that I will never be sick of seeing you like this. So submissive and sweet. Listening to my every word. Teetering on the edge of pain and pleasure. You’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

He runs the back of his hand down your cheek, you keen into his touch and smile at him. “Yes, I’m a good girl, Marcus.”

He bends down, kissing your forehead and then the tip of your nose before he walks out of the bedroom. You look him up and down, so sexy in his dress pants and white dress shirt, his strong, veiny forearms on display. You had no idea what you were in for when he ditched the tie and suit jacket the moment he walked in the door tonight. But you knew that look. When frustration etched his eyebrows and a hunger flashed in his eyes. You knew he needed an escape, and you knew it came in the form doing exactly as he says.

Marcus grabs a small bowl and fills it with ice from the freezer. He grabs you a bottle of water and then pops an ice cube in his mouth, letting the frozen water melt on his tongue as he walks back up the stairs. As he re-enters the bedroom he sees you lying there - spread eagle and arms bound, eyes closed peacefully, long lashes resting on your cheeks. Your swollen tits rise and fall, nipples hard and slightly purple from the rose gold clamps he had on them earlier. You look sinful and delicious. He meant what he said, he could do this to you forever and never get sick of it. But as your pleasure dom he knows he’s going to have to stop soon. The folds of your pussy are puffy and red, he sucks the ice cube harder, making it small enough so he can speak.

“Goddamn,” it comes out as groan. “You’re so fuckin beautiful.”

You flutter your eyes open, “So are you.”

You swear he blushes as a shy smile crosses his face. “I’m going to make it all better now, baby. I’m going to use my mouth to make you come again now. My tongue is nice and cool, it should help with that ache.”

He puts the water on the bench at the foot of the bed and then climbs between your legs, placing the bowl of ice on the bed beside your hip. “Are you ready, baby girl?”

You gulp before whispering, “Yes.”

His cold tongue licks a slow, flat, languid line from your entrance to your clit. The cooler temperature of his mouth soothes the burning heat between your thighs.

“Mmmm - Th-thank you, Marcus,” you hum as he repeats the motion with his tongue two, three, four more times.

He grabs a new ice cube and pops it in his mouth. As he sucks on it, he grabs a second cube and runs it down the right outer lip of your cunt. He hushes you as you cry out and then does the same thing to the left side. The cube in his mouth has melted enough now for him to continue tasting you. He places the flat of his tongue on your clit and presses down, his hand with the ice cube comes to your right nipple. Ice starts to combat the fire in your veins, and as he trails the ice cube around your nipple, his tongue mirrors the pattern on your swollen nub.

And then it happens again. For the eighteenth time tonight, your orgasm hits you out of nowhere. Your convulse under his cold tongue and as quickly as the orgasm starts it’s over. You’d think after coming this many times in the last two hours that you’d be satisfied and exhausted, but the quickness of that last one leaves you wanting more.

He stills his tongue and lets you grind on him, the ice cube he was trailing along your body has melted. He grabs a fresh one and traces it along your body as you shamelessly hump your husband’s face.

He brings the ice cube to rest right above your mound, the cold water running down your folds, causing you to hiss as it hits your clit.

Marcus pulls his tongue away quickly to say, “Come on, baby.” He lays his tongue out for you again and you push your hips into him harder.

“Fuckfuckfuck - Marcus, I - I’m, oh fuuuuuck.”

He slips the ice cube between his tongue and your cunt and you shatter around him.

“Oh god, mmmmm, yes.” Your voice is hoarse, throat dry from the combination of your rapid breathing and incoherent ramblings throughout the night.

He stays still, letting you control your nineteenth orgasm. His name spills from your lips as you circle your hips. The walls of your pussy clench and release around nothing, slowly and deeply, over and over. Sparks of pleasure light behind your eyes.

“Marcus. Yesyes - oh my god,” your legs start to tremble as you come down the other side of the most intense orgasm you’ve had so far tonight.

“Good girl,” he whispers, kissing up your hip bone to your stomach, your navel to your sternum, the swell of your breasts to your neck, and finally your lips. “You’re doing so well, baby. Just one more. Can you do just one more for me?”

You strain your neck to press your lips to his again. Kissing him deeply and slowly. “One more,” you mumble into his lips.

“I’m going to untie you for this one. I want to feel your fingers tug at my hair as I suck on that perfect little clit while pushing my fingers against that little spot inside of you that drives you absolutely wild. Is that ok, little one?”

“Mmm,” you hum. Mischievously adding, “Yes, daddy.”

Marcus laughs flirtatiously as he releases your wrists from his belt and the torn silk ties. “Are you okay, baby?”

You nod as he guides your arms down and then situates himself between your soft, plush thighs, sitting back on his heels.

“Do you need a drink?” He asks, grabbing the water from the foot of the bed.

“Yes, please.”

He cracks the lid and then helps you sit, guiding the bottle to your lips. You sip a little, the cool water soothes your throat. Marcus’s brown eyes bore into you, soothing the rest of your body. “One more, baby,” he whispers.

You hum in agreement before lying back down in the bed. Marcus leaves your ankles restrained as he unbuttons his dress shirt and then tosses it on the floor. You eye his hard chest and slightly soft belly, a line of dark hair that starts at his navel and travels down to his cock, which is rock hard under his dress pants.

He gives you a shy closed lip smile, “Do you need to use your safe word?”

“No,” you say breathily.

Marcus grabs an ice cube and holds it in his fist, his lips coming to place lingering kisses on your clit. Making out with one of his favourite parts of you. Kissing and kissing, occasionally running his tongue along it before kissing you deeply again.

Once the ice cube in his hand has melted, he teases at your entrance with two cold fingers. You cry out, as pushes them all the way in and then he curls them forward, turning you into a moaning mess. You wrap your fingers into his hair like he asked, holding his face against you.

“That’s my girl,” he says between kisses. “So good for me.”

He sucks your clit into his mouth, pumping his fingers against your g spot. A pained cry passes your lips, “aah, it hurts.”

“I know, baby. You’re so close.” He whispers encouragingly, pausing the suckling on your clit, keeping his fingers still.

“I - I can’t.”

“You can do it, baby. You’re almost there. I can feel you clenching me.” He curls his fingers forward slowly. “Come on, my love.”

“M - Marcus. It hurts, baby. I can’t. I can’t.” You whimper.

“Relax, baby.” His free hand presses on your lower belly and the pressure behind your navel becomes nearly unbearable. “That’s it, fuck baby. I can feel her fluttering for me. Can feel your orgasm building. You’re amazing, did you know that? Give me number twenty, pretty girl.”

You whimper again, willing your body to relax. Willing for the dull painful ache to blossom into pleasure.

“Good girl. Just relax,” he presses down on your stomach harder, his fingers still cold inside you as they tickle against the front wall of your pussy.

You tighten your grip in his hair and he hisses at the pain in his scalp before bringing his lips back to your clit. He sucks it into his mouth loudly, lewd sucking noises filling the room, only interrupted by your mumbles of building pleasure.

He releases your clit, “Let go for me.”

With a final steadying breath it hits you. Your last orgasm sashes over, erasing every thought until all you are is the pleasure Marcus gives you. Your abused pussy flutters weakly around his fingers as he pumps them inside of you. You gasp and squeal as your body breaks out in goosebumps, but simultaneously glistens with a fresh sheen of sweat.

Marcus slows his fingers and looks up at you through his lashes. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers in awe as the involuntary full body twitching of your orgasm starts to slow.

“So…” he kisses your mound.

“...Very…” he stops his fingers and kisses your hip.

“...Beautiful,” he starts to slowly slip his fingers out and your body goes slack.

You lay there panting, trying to catch your breath and find your muscles. Marcus unties your ankles and climbs beside you, pulling you into him and tucking your head into his neck.

“I love you,” he murmurs into your hairline, kissing you softly. “You did so well for me. Twenty orgasms. My good girl.”

You roll into him tighter and wince when your thighs squeeze together.

“Aw, baby. Is she sore?”

You pull back to be able to look at him. “A little, yeah.”

“Come here,” he pulls you closer. “Just let me hold you a little and then I’ll run you that bubble bath I promised.”

“Will you come in with me?” You ask sleepily.

Marcus laughs gently, “Of course. Whatever my baby wants.”

You nuzzle deeper into his skin and let your eyelids close. Completely and utterly surrounded by your beautiful husband.

#pedro #pedrohub #pedro is daddy #zaddy pedro #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #marcus pike x you #marcus pike fluff #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike #marcus pike smut #marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike x female reader #pleasure dom #pleasuredom!Marcus pike

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octuscle · 5 months

Note

I’d like to know if you could help me! I want to be a professional open bodybuilder (just like Nick Walker, Derek Lunsford), but, at the same rate my muscles grow, so do my male musk (specifically sweat musk from my armpits and cock) - no shower, deodorant or anything else will clean/cover my strong smell - until the point people around me get dizzy with my musk, start to complain and ask me to leave the places. With more muscles and less body fat, more sweating and musk until it reaches a strong level that people start to avoid me from fear of my muscles and my intense gym musk! Could you help me with that? Thanks a lot!

It's always the same people who are unhappy. You're rich, you've inherited, you don't have to work. You look dazzling, you know the right people, you're always invited to the best parties. And you don't feel like it anymore? You want to change that? Do I have a free hand? Then I'll get started!

You're sitting with a few friends in your favorite bar and tell them about your plan. More out of politeness than anything else, everyone says it sounds very exciting. You loosen your tie knot and undo the top button of your shirt. Phew, that's how you get your breath back. But you still need some fresh air, it's too crowded and stuffy in here. And somehow you don't feel like going back to the sissies. You feel more like going home, maybe doing a few more press-ups and then going to bed. After a few steps, you take a deep breath. And the top button of your shirt is blown off your chest like a projectile. The seams of your suit trousers are dangerously taut.

In the stairwell of the magnificent old building next to the city park where you live, the first seams crack. Thank God you don't meet anyone. By the time you get back to your apartment, your slim-fit tailored suit is in tatters. Somehow you're not even surprised. You tear off what's left of your clothes and stuff everything into the garbage can. Even your underpants no longer fit properly and are thrown away. You go naked to your dressing room and do a few push-ups, then squats, then a round of sit-ups until you're drenched in sweat. You stand in front of the mirror. Yes, you've gone through a growth spurt. And you stink. Sweat and musk. Delicious. But you still take a shower. The towel smells awful after drying off. And you don't feel a bit cleaner.

When you wake up the next morning, your cleaning lady has opened all the windows and is airing out the apartment. When she hears your footsteps on the way to the bathroom, she comes around the corner and is about to ask you where this unpleasant smell is coming from. You almost collide. You are still naked, scratching your hairy balls while still half asleep. Your cleaning lady turns bright red with fright. Then she holds her nose. You smell your armpit and say with a grin, "Excuse me, Maria, I'd better go and have a shower". In the bathroom, the laundry basket smells like a football team's changing room. You jump in the shower, but it doesn't seem to do any good this morning either. Damn, you might as well go to your workout. At least everyone there smells of sweat.

Damn, that was a really good workout. You pose in front of the mirror. Your sweaty tank top on the floor. During the workout you were incredibly focused on the weights, only now do you realize how disgusted the other customers are looking at you

You check your reflection again. Holy shit, you look really good, what's wrong with them all? Probably just jealous. You pick up your tank top from the floor. Somehow it smells a bit. You hold it up to your nose. Yes, it's sweat and musk. Maybe a little intense. You love it. The smell makes your cock hard. The sweat stains on your sweatpants are joined by precum stains. You need to take a shower now. And wank.

When you check out, the receptionist looks at you in disgust. He puts some ointment under his nose and puts on a face mask. He informs you that the studio requires a minimum level of personal hygiene from its customers. Several customers have already complained. He asks you to come showered and with fresh clothes next time.

Yes, you smell bad despite the shower. You walk back home because you don't feel like complaining again on the subway. Normally a pleasant walk. But for one thing, your legs are really exhausted from training. On the other hand, you feel that you easily weigh 20 pounds more than you did yesterday. You look in the mirror of a shop window as you pass by. Fuck, yeah! You see the reflection of a serious amateur bodybuilder.

You're too exhausted to climb the stairs to your apartment. You get into the elevator. Mrs. Spencer from the floor below you shouts for you to hold the elevator and barely slips through the closing door with her daughter. She holds her nose in disgust. And her daughter, perhaps four years old, asks why the big man smells so bad. Phew, the elevator isn't big anyway. Today it feels even narrower.

That was all a few weeks ago now. You left your impressive apartment because the stuffy neighbors were getting on your nerves. The nagging was unbearable. You thought that the cheap apartment building where you were staying temporarily was really just a temporary solution. But there are a lot of guys living here who are like you: fuck the opinions of others, the main thing is that you grow up. Really big! When you walk through the front door, you take a deep breath. It must have smelled something like this in a Neanderthal cave.

Since you've been banned from your hairdresser, you cut your hair yourself. You like it, it looks even more brutal and masculine. Even in your hardcore gym, your stench stands out. But here the other musclemen envy you for it. Hehehe, and there's always someone who will even pay money to press his face into your armpit or suck your cheesy cock. Your life is great!

Pics found @antoinepaul and @maxx-magnum

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #chronivac #body odor #musk

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ellethespaceunicorn · 2 months

Note

Helllooooo!!! I hope you're having a good day!! 💕💜✨

Can I submit a prompt where Lloyd calls in his normally mousey assistant on one of her off days and is blown back by her casual attire? Maybe she's on her way out of hang with the girls and she's got her hottie/freekum dress/attire on.

Bonus if she is as completely I bothered as she normally is and even teases him a bit for his audacity 😈😈

I appreciate you're brain and the time you spend sharing it with us!! ☺️💕💜

Hi nonny!! So sorry this took so long, but here it is! And just as a warning, this one is a doozy and I will not be earning bonus points based on your ask.

Is getting negative points a thing?? (Because this thing went off the rails...)

Title: Power Play: After Hours

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Assistant!Black!Reader

Word Count: 3.1K

Summary: What happens when Lloyd sees you, his assistant, in something other than what you usually wear? Well, you should be worried about what he does when he sees you.

Warnings: horrible boss Lloyd, pet name (Mouse), power imbalance, multiple threats of violence, non-con, forced oral sex (f receiving), slight dacryphilia, forced hand job (m receiving), dub-con p-in-v intercourse, vaginal creampie, forced oral sex (m receiving), oral creampie, dead dove: do not eat

A/N: I apologize to nonny who asked for something (I think) completely different. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.

Dividers by: @saradika

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist

You’re at home getting ready to go out with the girls. It has been ages since you had a free night to let your hair down. But tonight was the night.

You made sure to ditch the wool sweaters, drab colors, and sensible shoes that you usually wear to work. Instead, you opt for a form-fitting pinstripe dress that ends just above your knee. Large hoop earrings push through your hair and demand attention. Your feet are covered in strappy heels that are cuter than they are comfortable.

But beauty is pain, no?

Just as you are exiting your apartment and entering your car, your phone buzzes. You pull your phone from your purse and growl at the text message from your boss.

Your boss, your reason for migraine medication, the bane of your existence. Lloyd Hansen. Getting an internship with Hansen Government Service was supposed to be a summer gig to help you pay for odds and ends during your last year at college. But no, you had to go ahead and impress the CEO with your problem-solving and the way you covered your former boss’ ass one too many times.

And now here you are, the personal assistant to this deplorable caricature of a human being. Amazing vision and dental benefits aside, you were the glorified babysitter to a sociopath with an inferiority complex. But you keep your mouth shut and your head down because you know where your bread is buttered.

The text from Lloyd is still sitting in your inbox unread one minute later when your phone starts to ring. You were hoping he would think you were asleep or something, but you remember Lloyd doesn’t observe normal business hours. And he doesn’t give a shit if you have a day off either.

“Yes, Sir,” you answer with Lloyd’s preferred moniker.

“Why didn’t you answer my text?” he asks, his annoyed tone unmistakable.

“I apologize for not being available to you, Sir. What can I help you with?” you acknowledge, wanting him to get to his point of bothering you.

“Hmmm. I’m gonna ignore you being rudely polite. For now. Need you to get my dry cleaning, Mouse,” he advises, using that nickname that boils your blood.

“Sir. It’s almost 9 p.m. Are the dry cleaners still open?” you wonder aloud.

“I called them, and they agreed to re-open so that I could get my shirts. Wasn’t that nice of them? You don’t wanna keep that sweet old lady waiting this late at night, do you?” he persuades, a sinister chuckle sending a chill down your spine.

“I will pick up your shirts for you, Sir,” you question.

“Had to pull a late night at the office, but I’m leaving now. Meet me at my place, Mouse,” he replies.

“Yes, Sir,” you say, holding back the urge to scream in his ear and ending the call.

By being at the office, he is within walking distance of the shop where his clothing is being held.

Deep breaths. Don’t let him take your joy.

You pass your office building and veer into the small shopping center. Stepping into the shop, you realize you don’t have a ticket, but you also know that the place is staying open for only one reason.

“You here to pick up Hansen?” The old woman behind the counter smiles at you and you nod stepping over to her, “Very particular, that one. Don’t let him work you too hard, honey.”

“Oh, thank you,” you greet, smiling when she handed over the hangers of shirts covered in plastic material, “May I just apologize for him keeping you open past your hours?”

Before you can apologize, the sweet woman comes around the counter and pats your hand.

“How long are you going to apologize for him? Just go home, honey. And good luck with that one,” she reasons, and she scoots you out of the store before you can tell her that you’re only his assistant, not his long-suffering wife.

You give up trying to explain yourself and turn around to get back in your car. With the shirts hung in the back seat, you speed until you get to Lloyd’s gated community. Pushing in the code to the outer gate, you squirm in your seat as the gate slowly opens.

Driving through streets with pretentious names, you end up at the cul-de-sac where his McMansion sits center-stage among the other Stepford homes. You park next to his vehicle in the spacious driveway, a BMW M8 Competition Convertible in Alpine White. Not a scratch on her sparkling surface.

You stuff down the urge to put a scratch on his car because he will notice it. He notices everything. And with the level of neat freak that he is, he probably would notice a single fingerprint on the car’s hood.

Walking up to the door, you see the Ring camera and press the doorbell. The porch light comes on and the door opens to reveal your boss talking on the phone with one earbud in his ear. He pauses and looks you up and down before letting you walk in around him.

“I’m gonna have to go, something just came up,” he purrs, adjusting himself in the two seconds you were looking away from him. He pulls out his earbud, ending the call and turning his attention to you, “Mouse, glad you could make it, but you didn’t have to dress up for me.”

“I didn’t. Here are your shirts. Can I help you with anything else, Sir?” you explain, holding his dry cleaning out so he can take them.

Once he reaches out, he bypasses the shirts, grabbing your wrist and pulling you to him. “Maybe there is one thing you can do for me, Mouse. It is quite a big job though,” he dares, ghosting his thumb over your pulse point.

“Hmmm. Sir, I didn’t come all this way to do whatever it is you think you’re doing,” you warn, putting your hand on his chest to push him away as you feel his increased heart rate.

His eyes are dark, with barely any blue left in the iris. You can almost feel how hungry he is for you.

“Well, I was gonna say I wouldn’t mind a blowjob from those perfect glossy lips. But I think I wanna hear your mouth moan for me while I eat that pretty pussy instead,” he admits, taking the shirts out of your hand before hoisting you over his shoulder.

“Sir! No! Put me down, you fucking psycho. What are you doing?” you demand, pounding your hands on his back and landing a harsh blow directly to his ass.

“Fuck, Mouse! Hands to yourself, or I won’t keep my hands to myself, ok?” he cautions, surprising you with a hard slap to your ass, “And you got that wrong anyway, I’m technically a sociopath, not a psychopath.”

You’re in a state of stunned silence as he walks up the grand staircase in the room and brings you into a bedroom down the hall. You don’t have time to wonder what all of the other rooms are used for as you are dumped on his bed. The silk sheets underneath you are comfortable, but they seem creepy once you think about being thrown down on top of them. Before you can scramble off of the bed, Lloyd grabs you by the hips and traps you under his weight.

“Mouse, mouse, mouse. Why don’t you ever dress like this for me?” he breathes, his clothed erection nestled against your hip, “You wearing this for some asshole? Should call him up and tell him I got to you first.”

“Sir, please. I was just going to hang out with my girls. I promise I won’t say anything about this if you just let me go,” you whimper, your hands going to his chest again trying to push him away.

He grabs your wrists and pins them to the bed. His nose takes in your RiRi perfume as it glides along your neck. Kicking your legs open, he nestles himself in between so he can rock his hips into you. Feeling his hardening dick against your panties as your dress rides up, he groans as he feels the heat coming off of you.

“Kinda funny you want me to let you go. But I bet if I dipped a finger into that cute snatch I know you have, I would find a little honey pot full of delicious sweetness waiting for me. Shall I test that out?” he counters. Holding both wrists in one giant hand as he trails a hand down your body until it disappears between you.

You feel his bruising fingers pushing your panties out of the way to find his prize. His touch turns almost delicate as the tips of his fingers find your wet pussy; your body’s betrayal is evident in the puddle forming on your netherlips. The look in his eyes when he finds what he’s looking for is bordering on sheer joy.

“There it is, Mouse. Just like I knew it would be,” he beams, pulling two fingers coated in your essence to his mouth and sucking them clean, “Fuck. I knew it would be delicious. You’re gonna sit on my face and give me all your sweet cream.”

He rolls your body over so that you are straddling him. You debate trying to scramble off of him, but he pinches your thigh and brings you back to the task at hand. You crawl up his body and hover over his face until he locks his arms around your thighs and pulls you down over his eager mouth.

Looking down at him, he looks serene with his eyes closed as he goes to work on your sensitive folds. For a while, you feel nothing when he licks up your slit. Circling your nub with his tongue, he moans when your clit twitches. When kitten licks against your clit turn to sucking it into his mouth, you can’t restrain the urge to grab a handful of his hair.

If he wants to hear you moan pretty for him, he’s gonna need to do better than this. You grind your pussy into his tongue and sigh when he sticks his tongue directly into your hole. Fucking into you with his tongue is the straw that breaks the camel’s back.

You tighten your fingers in his auburn hair, unable to hold back your orgasm for much longer. Visions of all the times he looked at you like you were a piece of meat flash before your eyes. The way all of his other assistants quit the job after short stints. And you just about gift-wrapped yourself for him tonight.

You should have never answered the phone. But it’s kind of hard to think about that now with the way your resolve is slowly slipping away. You feel the metaphorical rubber band being stretched to within an inch of its life. Until pop!

The wave of your climax washes over you like a warm blanket. Your keening whine is music to Lloyd’s ears as he holds you tighter when you try and extricate yourself from his grasp. He laps up everything you have to give him and makes obscene sucking and licking noises. Once he lets up on your pussy, he lets your weak body roll to the side on its own. You don’t notice you are crying until he licks away one tear.

He looks down at you as he wipes his mustache clean of your juices. “Every part of you tastes amazing, Mouse. Even your tears. Fuck, that’s so hot I got you crying for me,” he hums, wiping away your tears with a thumb as he lays next to your limp body.

You’re quiet as you lay in your boss’ bed, him having just defiled your body with his tongue. Not knowing what to think, your brain just replays everything trying to find where you went so wrong. Because not only was that an Earth-shattering orgasm but it was given to you by your boss. That kind of thing is frowned upon in most companies. But Lloyd is the CEO, are the rules different? You don’t have the time to keep thinking when Lloyd chimes in.

“Now, Mouse, I’m sure your brain is going a mile a minute. But let me make one thing clear: I am going to need you to come into work dressed just like this from now on. You wear something tight, something that shows off this body, something that I can pull up or down and fuck you in while we’re in the office,” he chuckles as you look over to him with tears in your eyes at your new fate, “We’ll put that into your contract. What do you think? From Personal Assistant to Fuck Toy. That’s a step up, huh?”

You say nothing, content to shed tears and wish that the Earth would open up and swallow you.

“Don’t be so gloomy. At least you got to come, unlike some of us. You can help me with that, can’t you Mouse?” he pleads, as if he didn’t just change your job title to fit your new duties. He unzips his pants, pulling out his thick length and reaching for your hand to wrap around it, “I won’t need much help. I could’ve blown in my pants like a fucking teenager when you came in my mouth.”

You wish his mouth would just fucking stop. You don’t need the commentary. You unenthusiastically jerk him off until he spills rope after rope of jizz painting your hand and his pants. At least he was right, he didn’t need much help.

“Good fucking job, Mouse,” he gushes, throwing an arm over his brow as he catches his breath, “Can’t wait to take that cunt for a test drive but I can wait until my balls are not so fucking empty. Go clean yourself up in the bathroom.”

You rise and walk into the attached bathroom all without a single thought in your head. You use the toilet, wash your hands, and splash water on your face. You avoid the mirror like the plague.

Coming back to the bedroom, you are greeted by Lloyd lying on his side and crooking a finger at you. You swallow your spit and take a deep breath, moving to join him on the bed.

Once there, you let him manhandle you in every position he wants. You close your eyes, wishing you were somewhere else. Until he has you on your back. He makes you stare into his eyes as he fucks you like the little puppet you are. When he takes you over the edge again, he doesn’t stop his onslaught until you beg him to stop.

But begging only drives him to go harder. Flesh slapping against flesh painfully until he pushes himself deep within you and stills. Every twitch and spurt felt inside of you like a slap to the face. You’re not on birth control and you fear asking if he is snipped but he speaks up before you can ask.

“I pay you enough to afford the morning-after pill, right?” he asks, his dick softening and sliding out of you.

Fucking asshole. The thought of murder crosses your mind more than once, but you know people might come looking for him. And the thought of having to trade in your freedom for a life behind bars makes you rethink killing this nutcase.

So, instead, you just say, “Yes, Sir.”

“Right. Good. Alright, well it’s not too late for you to go out with your friends. Don’t stay out too late, you have work in the morning. Bright and early, Mouse. I expect you to be there tomorrow,” he remarks, acting like he didn’t just use your body for his sick pleasure, “That means you’re good to go home now, Mouse. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He gets off you, climbing off the bed and adjusting himself, pulling you up and escorting you to the front door. He all but pushes you out of the door into the night, as if you were trash. When you get back inside your car, your phone has tons of messages from your friends wondering where you are.

You send a mass text that you weren’t feeling well, and you needed rest. It wasn’t entirely untrue anyway. You make it back home, shedding your clothes as you walk to your bedroom. You pull back the covers and wrap yourself in warmth, willing the events of the night to just go away. But they don’t go away.

The next morning, you shower and dress like Lloyd wants. The looks of your coworkers cause heat to rise to your face. You don’t usually get this type of attention. Or any attention when you think about it.

When you get to Lloyd’s office, he is sitting behind his desk on a call, and he waves you over. You walk around his desk and see his pants are already unbuttoned and his half-chub is sticking out. You spare yourself the embarrassment of being asked and go right to work on him with your hands. Unsurprised when he puts a hand on the back of your head, you just lower yourself and take him in your mouth.

Little does he know; your head game is strong. And within about three minutes, you have him spasming down your throat. His softening cock is sensitive as you tease him by swirling your tongue around the head. He ends his phone call and holds your face in his hands.

“What’s my soul taste like, Mouse? I’m sure you sucked it right out,” he praises, his dazed eyes focusing on you while he catches his breath.

“If you had a soul, I’m sure it would taste as bitter as your cum,” you snap, uncaring of whether or not he was offended.

“Good point. Watch that pretty mouth, though. My precious feelings might get hurt. And then you might get hurt. So, play nice, Mouse,” he cautions, lightly clapping his hand against your cheek, just hard enough to jerk you out of misbehaving.

“Yes, Sir,” you sass, putting on a fake smile and Lloyd rolls his eyes, shooing you away.

You can do what he says, doesn’t mean you have to make it easy for him in the slightest. And isn’t that the best way to get back at him? Give him everything he wants but with no enthusiasm. Of course, you know this little plan of yours won’t last long. But when you’re faced with a demon like Lloyd Hansen, you’ll take any little victory you can. As few and far between as they may be.

A/N: This got way out of hand. I don’t know what happened. Um, I’m not sorry though. Because I love this and if it ends up being just for me, then so be it.

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astayinwonderland · 7 months

Text

Silk and Fire - Chapter 1

Read more about the series and find updates here (;

pairing: namjoon x f.reader x jungkook

guest starring: jin, yoongi, hoseok

genre: romance | drama | smut +18 MDNI

summary: it's your best friend's engagement party and you agree to meet everyone at the venue. however, you end up running late and in danger. fortunately, someone's there to offer a helping hand... or hands.

status: ongoing

warnings: mentions of anxiety

wc: 1.7k words

a/n: this is pure ✨fiction✨

do not copy or translate

“Babe, you’ll look amazing no matter what you wear,” Namjoon puts his book down to look at you. “I love that dress on you,” he smiles, dimples showing.

“You’ve said the same thing about the last six outfits I’ve tried on,” you laugh.

“I am just being honest”.

Namjoon leaves his comfy reading chair and walks over to your figure. You stand in front of the mirror and stand on your tippy toes mimicking how you would look in heels. Strong arms hug you from behind, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. Namjoon has been quite busy with work lately and in moments like this he wishes he could whisk you away and take you somewhere secluded, nice, romantic, where only the two of you existed. But alas, this wasn’t that day.

In a couple of hours, you two would be at your best friend’s engagement party, who would have thought she would be the marrying kind after all? Everyone would be there, including the one friend you have never met in person. You are quite excited to meet him finally, he has been travelling around the world for the past year, and in your eight months of dating Namjoon, all the group of friends can talk about is how much they miss their group of 7.

“You smell so good, you always do,” Namjoon whispers and plants a kiss on your soft skin.

You run your fingers through his hair in an attempt to make time go still, but your eyes catch the clock by your nightstand and you jump.

“Fuck, Joon! Look at the time. I have to go to the salon, the dry cleaners, go get my shoes…”

Namjoon laughs at the way you rush around your shared house, he asked you to move in while you celebrated your 7th month together. The question came abruptly out of his mouth, but it felt right. He knew you were very special from the moment he laid eyes on you. Your looks are breathtaking for sure, but Namjoon felt an intense attraction to you because of your energy and intellect. You are sharp and smart, in a very different way than he is, and that makes him head over heels for you.

“Alright, alright… Sure you don’t want me to pick you up and get there together?”

“The salon is right across the venue, I’ll walk there once I’m done. Don’t worry, love,” you smile at him.

You should have listened to your boyfriend. You should have. Honestly, at least if he were here, you would not feel this stress. It is 7:30 p.m., and you should already be at the venue calming your best friend’s nerves. You are the maid of honour after all. But things went south from the moment the dry cleaners didn’t have your dress ready and you were far behind with your hair.

“Please just do whatever… the easiest thing. Anything! I really need to go,” you beg at the stylist, and even though she does try, your anxiety isn’t going anywhere.

By the time you finish, it’s 8:02 p.m. Your bestie sends you text after text.

Where the fuck are you?

Are you close?

Hello!????

I’m freaking out please, are you ok?

You feel too guilty and anxious to give a full explanation so you just text her one sentence.

I’ll be there in 5.

You quickly make your way out of the salon and cross the street. The night is a bit cold and windy, your cheeks hurt a little from the cool air brushing against your face. You run in your heels praying you don’t twist your ankle. As you try to look for your lipstick in your clutch, you find yourself already a few steps away from the hotel door. The revolving door activates as you step in but it stops, leaving a small space open between the glass and the entrance.

“Fuck!” you bang on the door to try and move it, but nothing happens.

A muffled voice comes from the outside. You turn around to find a cheeky smile, lip piercing, and big doe eyes looking right into yours.

“What?” your voice is louder than usual since you can’t hear him properly.

His face now comes closer to the reduced space between the glass and the entrance.

“You need to step back.”

You try to move but it seems pointless and your anxiety peaks when it dawns on you that you may be trapped here for a long time. Your breath is heavy and your palms start to sweat. Hell, your vision is blurry. The man watches you lose it in a matter of seconds, and he would be damned if he didn’t do something about it. Somehow, his large frame squeezed through the little space left, catching you before you fell to your knees.

“Darling, if you are going to get on your knees for me it better not be like this.”

You try to focus your eyes on the man that helps you stand. Your face leaning against his crisp white shirt, makeup transferring a little bit onto it.

“Are you okay?”

And now you get a closer look. His long dark hair falls graciously on his forehead and temples, the rest of it framing his beautiful face. It is a mystery how he squeezed in with those broad shoulders and big arms. Those same arms holding you in place.

“Breathe,” he gives you a warm smile.

So you breathe and try to pull yourself together, but his hands reach your waist and pull you against him. A gasp leaves your lips.

“See?” he points at a tiny red dot near the door. “That’s a sensor, if you stand up too close you might get stuck. You just need to move a little bit–” and he pulls you even closer to him, his hips slightly gracing your body. “--back,” and that does the trick.

Finally the door moves. Just as hotel employees are coming to your rescue.

“It’s okay, I'm fine!” you yell running to the elevator.

The man calmly walks after you and watches you desperately run.

“Thank you!” you yell.

Elegance. Poise. Charm. Love.

You find yourself in a small but beautiful space where ivory and gold decorate the room and the chandeliers shimmered light delicately down to the guests. You spot your best friend and her fiancé across the room. Luckily your little meltdown didn’t completely ruin your hair, so you make your way in saying your polite ‘hellos’ and hoping she doesn’t kill you for being this late.

“You look beautiful,” you hug her.

“What the fuck happened?” you can see worry in her eyes.

“The question is, what didn’t happen? Everything went wrong today, I’ll tell you later.”

“She was about to call the police and put together a search party in order to find you.”

You look at the man who your best friend decided to marry. Min Yoongi is no ordinary man. He is respectable, admirable, handsome, and the most important thing, he is husband material and perfect for Camille. He loves her dearly, erasing past traumas and filling her with acceptance and reassurance. You couldn’t be happier for them.

“I was not going to call the police, Yoongi,” she rolls her eyes.

“Yes she was,” he gives her the fondest of smiles and kisses her temple. His PDA is rare, but when it happens it is from the heart and that makes you long for the perfect man for you.

“Where is he?” you say scanning the room, and then your eyes meet his. “Please excuse me for a minute…”

Namjoon smiles as he sees you. Black shirt neatly tucked into his gray pants. His black hair parted to the side. He makes his way to you and you to him, meeting him in a tight embrace that seems to cure all your anxiety.

“I’m glad you’re finally here,” he gives you a peck on the lips. “Missed you,”

“And I missed you too!” even though you don’t see him you know it’s Hoseok behind you. You give him a tight hug. To be honest you missed hanging with Namjoon’s friends as well. They bring a certain spark to all gatherings that is hard to match.

Namjoon gives you a quizzical look.

“The dry cleaners didn’t have the dress ready on time, then my hair appointment was delayed an hour and a half, and on top of everything I got stuck in the stupid revolving doors,”

“No way…” and the most boisterous laugh you’ve ever heard in your life comes from one of the most handsome faces you’ve seen in your life.

“It did happen, Jin,”

“If it was going to happen to someone it had to happen to you,” he sweetly kissed both of your cheeks.

“Have you seen Jungkook yet?” Hoseok asks, elegantly holding a champagne flute.

“Oh is he here yet?” you ask intrigued, excited even.

“You know he likes a big entrance,” Jin adds.

Namjoon then offers to get you a drink which you accept. You stay with Jin and Hoseok making casual conversation, but you spot your saviour in the small crowd. What is ‘revolving door guy’ doing here? You excuse yourself and make your way to him, saying hello to Camille’s family as you cross the room. His doe eyes open wide and his lips curve in a smile.

“You are here,” he says.

“Yes. Why are you here? Are you following me or something?” you whisper, confused.

“Maybe I am,” he smirks and takes a sip of his neat whiskey.

“I’m okay, no need to check on me,” you do your best to smile and reassure him you are doing just fine. “Thank you, again.”

“Okay… I won’t check on you, but I will check you out,” and there’s that cheeky smile again.

Shock.

“Excuse me?”

“There you are!” Namjoon hands you a glass of white wine and puts his hand around your waist. “Ah! I see you finally met each other.”

Your eyes go from your man to ‘revolving door guy’ and back to your man.

“Babe, this is Jeon Jungkook.”

#kpop smut #kpop fanfic #kpop series #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts scenarios #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #jungkook smut #namjoon smut #namjoon imagine #namjoon scenarios #bts x reader #namjoon x reader #jungkook x reader #bts imagines #bts series #astayinwonderland

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onyourhyuck · 1 year

Text

His Healer. | S.JH

— Prologue: “Maybe in my next life I can see you and the world in all the seven colours.”

— Summary: Prince Johnny has an eye condition allowing him to only see black and white. You’re the new maid arrange to clean his chambers you found out his secret illness.

— Genre: Prince!johnny. Royal romance + smut. Maid + prince trope. Super angsty to be honest, this is kinda sad and depressing story.

— Notes:

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The news of a new job becoming open spread fast in your village which made you act on your time. Everyone would die to have a job in the palace where the people work there in luxury. It felt like the best work offer there.

Lucky for you, you ended up becoming recruited fitting to the palace description and the needs they were looking for in a young woman like you. To become a Maid.

Not just any maid however, a maid for the prince. Every royalty has their own section of the palace that belongs to them; they have their own court, where nobles who are friends with those royalties will attend to play games, chat away about god knows what gossip and get self made tea from the maids. For you it was the prince. You were assigned under his name even though he hasn’t quite picked you, the king and the queen thought of you suitable.

They trusted a young girl like you who’s had a pretty face but also a determined outlook to be loyal to your job only. So they set you out to have your very first job to clean the Prince’s chambers where he sleeps. You didn’t think much of it because you heard the prince was out so it’s not like you’re going to get caught cleaning up the living hell’s mess he has on the freaking floor; the clothes were not even his some of them were bunch of dresses belonging to noble ladies. It was an unsatisfying experience picking up the clothes folding them under your hands and then proceeding to grab the hem of the many duvet layers they had on the giant king size bed. You swore this bed was bigger in real life than you could imagine.

Lifting the duvet’s embroidered on the bed puffing them out you crawl on the bed on all fours to go get the pillows. You begin fixing them puffing the material out making them bounce and thick once more. You wouldn’t want the prince to get a stiff neck by having the pillows be uneven and disturbing. Your hands crawl to the front hem of the duvet pushing them into the mattress making it look neater and cleaner giving it a slick texture. Later you came to the night stands were your eyes glimpse of two folded papers revealing names to the assuaged colours you couldn’t help but wonder why did the prince have that? But the minute you’d turn around you saw the door to the left open wide revealing the prince coming out of the bath chamber where a singular large bathtub was with foaming smoke behind him, it was a hot bath because the minute you saw him coming out while you’re on his bed on all fours — he was a smoking silhouette.

Your jaw came undone gaping at the bottom sight of the pelvis growing out into the many abs he has. The only thing covering him was a robe underneath the waist making sure it doesn’t slip out while the other towel was gently ruffling out the hair side to side to dry it quicker. Johnny’s stare went from being there to staring you down on the bed watching your maid dress guessing who you could be, it wasn’t hard to guess, you were doing maid duties. But the position you were in while on his bed made him snicker thinking otherwise.

He definitely came out at the wrong time.

Johnny saw you quickly get off the bed and look down bowing at him to pay a respectful image and apology to the noble man in front of you.

“Your highness. I’m sorry I was just… cleaning your chambers. I wasn’t aware you were here.” You bite your lips together sealing them tight like they were an envelope.

Johnny raised his eyes coming forward chuckling he found you surprisingly amusing and he hasn’t met you yet. He knows every maid of his but you must be new because if you weren’t he’d remember your pretty face that’s for sure.

“It’s quite alright I’d think you were doing your absolute best to make my bed tonight comfortable and war.” He boosts playfully catching you off guard. He was nothing like they said him out to be. He was handsome in person, actually more handsome than words could capture and describe. He was rather sweet and playful something that you found to be interesting considering his parents were strict and stern. They terrified you.

But not their son, he didn’t scare you once. Johnny slips out the blouse putting it on and then seeing you turn around letting him change. Johnny fully knows you wouldn’t peak and even if you did, no harm it in because he has nothing to hide. He’s fit and probably the fittest in the palace. He changed while you weren’t eyeing him, you only faced the wall in front of you so seriously that by the time Johnny was finished long time ago changing he was standing behind you.

You slowly turn around saying. “My prince are you done—“ and while you saw him standing there so close you could feel his chest hit your face nearly, you flinch up staring at how close you were.

Johnny’s twisting smile makes you fold because you’ve never seen someone as beautiful as him so close you could never forget this moment of time. Your memory will be definitely photo-snapping this.

You hush your words down. “I will continue to my duties my prince.” He grins nodding. “Don’t let me keep you from your work miss…?” He said watching you curiously.

You look back at him. “Y/n is my name.”

He smiles. “Miss Y/n. Beautiful name you have there. Tell me when we’re you assigned to my chambers?”

You were busy fixing the shelves that held so many books, brushing them away from the dust growing on them. Johnny was sitting on the bed’s edge watching you reach from the books each and one of them were dust without mercy. You couldn’t allow the prince to have any dust in the sleeping chambers god knows what that could do to him.

“I’ve been assigned today.” You reply with a strained sigh as you push the books in the shelves when they were all done and dusted. You’re turning around walking to the night stands where you saw the dust boiling on there, you sweep with your hands. Johnny hums turning around because his eyes were glued on to you, following you run around to clean. It was nerve wrecking to say the least.

Being watched while you clean wasn’t your favourite activity but he’s the prince you cannot say other wise. Maybe it was nerve wrecking because it’s him watching you.

You pause as you lift out papers with all colours of the rainbow. The seven colours you couldn’t help but wonder why the prince had that there. You turn around with your hands gripping it and the prince turns around fully seeing what you had fun.

“My prince why do you have the colours on the paper?” You couldn’t help but file your curiosity.

His smirk goes down and he slowly stands up but very softly brings the hand to grab it. You let him take it and Johnny stares at you murmuring as if it was something to be ashamed of. But nonetheless he can’t keep a secret from the maids. They always find out but there was a good feeling you would be different if he just told you. You wouldn’t gossip, you know you wouldn’t.

Johnny replies croaking like a broken bookcase. “I cannot see in colour. I have an eye condition that lets me see only in black and white.” Your curiosity dims down when hearing this terrible thing Johnny has. You look down apologetically again, feeling sorry for him. “Oh I’m so… sorry… I was prying on your shoulders.”

He shakes his head smiling. “Oh don’t be. You were bound to find out one way or another Y/n. If only someone taught me honestly. These colours. It’s not like I can go and ask anyone in the castle what they are.” He smiles sitting on the bed again watching the paper intensely.

The people would look down on him if he were to ask anyone what the colours are because this was children knowledge but the truth couldn’t get out anyways. The prince’s parents King and Queen told him to keep it a secret forever. The maids weren’t allowed to gossip and he somehow had a feeling you’d be different from the rest of them. It was a good stomach bug he had about you.

You could tell he was dreaming to be normal but in your eyes there was nothing wrong with him. He was perfect in your eyes even though he couldn’t see in colours. You sit down next to him murmuring, a suggestion that brought his heart to grow warm.

“I can teach you if you’d like.” You say to him.

Johnny smiles suddenly with eyes widen watching you like you were day. “You know how to read?” He was amazed when you nodded. He couldn’t believe it when you said you were self taught. It was rare to know a maid who’s well literate; only the rich could afford to do so. But you’re self taught and it made his respect for you grow ten times more.

You grin. “It’s the least I can offer to do for you my prince.” You were right about him being the most kind soul you’ve met. Maybe he was a little unserious but apart from that he was probably the sweetest soul you’ve encountered.

Johnny nudged you softly eyeing you with practically heart eyes for you. He couldn’t believe you were offering and he didn’t even thought you’d consider it as much as it caught him by surprise, he was glad today he met you.

“You can call me Johnny when we are alone like this. You don’t have to keep up with the honourifics Y/n.”

You never felt so exposed unlike the time he calls your name through his lips so casually, like you could speak to a friend, it somehow felt more natural when Johnny said it but when you try to call him by his name it was such a foreign concept your brain couldn’t handle.’

But he was right. If he wasn’t a prince he would just be Johnny. If he wasn’t who he was right now he’d still be Johnny and by the end of the time he will only be Johnny. It was only a matter of time till you get used to it.

Your eyes follow the prince’s round orbs like they were the sun and you were just a mere small planet following them close. “Okay…Johnny— I mean my prince— i—!” You pause catching your breathe.

To see you lose your head for a whole minute trying to pick an identity what you could call him was an amazing and interesting sight to see you fumble. It’s like seeing two people at war together trying to see who is right and who is wrong.

He chucked at you, finding this relatively amusing. “Y/n I have a feeling we’ll be able to get along very well.”

You smile hearing the prince think so too.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

When no one was around it was your and Johnny’s world no one else’s. No one coifed to the world you and Johnny made when you were together being yourselves absolutely no one. Although it took some time for you to open up to Johnny only seeing as Johnny and no one else when you finally loosen down you and Johnny were able to communicate with one another more than you would with other people. For once the prince felt like he has a friend who isn’t someone who cares for the image, or the status like many other people do. You were there because you enjoyed the company as much as he did and that’s what made Johnny like you.

“Red is this one. It’s like a bright colour. It’s warm and our blood is red.” You explained, knowing Johnny loved you describe the colours.

He could listen for days.

“And this one?” He points at the paper on the rainbow diagram. Your face looks at it softly explaining with a serious face.

“That’s blue. The colour of the ocean.”

He enjoyed seeing you become serious too.

He liked how you’re intellectually speaking. You have your views not many would agree upon you speaking but with him you can say anything and he’d be an unbiased judgement. You think it’s ridiculous that nowadays people are treated differently based on from working classes and what you do for work. Johnny agreed because it’s the exact similar thing with him. People don’t treat him like he was human they treat him like he was a god they worship.

It was both intense different scenarios but from yours it was depriving and from Johnny’s it was enforcing titles.

You’re both very opinionated but you’re always speaking the truth to one another where you’re never hiding anything.

When you aren’t near Johnny because the head of Maid’s who assigned the work to the other maids like yourself were told to help clean the gardens or the different rooms that weren’t in Johnny’s section of the palace he found himself longing to see you and missing you gravely — at one point Johnny was looking for you and saw you cleaning out the kitchens.

He made himself comfortable watching you in the corner which the other workers in the palace, like the chef and the cooks who you were helping would eye him suspiciously wondering why he was here. And then when you left he’d follow you like a lost puppy. You enjoyed his presence so it never weirded you out if anything it made your life better.

The people around the prince would question why he looks way happier than before to you, he found himself wondering why but all that came to his mind that was an answer was: you.

Now you’re both laying on the open field outside the palace where you both escaped to. It was middle of the daylight and the young prince was not feeling doing prince-royal-stuck up duties in the palace so he found you working on the second floor of the palace and dragged you when no one could notice you leaving the group of maids. You were about to clean the carpet today but not anymore because the next minute you knew Johnny said he wants to leave the palace grounds and you’re coming with him.

That’s how you’re now laying on the grassy field with the most handsome man alive next to you laughing and throwing flowers at you that he prickled off the ground. You would turn around and smack the flowers he’s throwing at you away and then you would straddle his arms away but he was far too stronger than your body.

“What if they find out we are here Hm? Will you take responsibility for me losing my job?”

You were teasing him while asking a true and real question that’s been on your head.

“I’ll just make it impossible for them to fire you, you know that.”

The prince responds to your liking but something he was so passionate about as he pulls you down grabbing your legs and sliding you underneath him where he straddles you. The grassy field poofs out some flowers flying out of your way as he was pulled on top of you.

You smile at his words that always creep into your heart making a home in them. Your smile widens on your beautiful face mesmerising Johnny as he looks down at you while being on top where your bodies — especially your chests were touching one another. Through the maid outfit you were everyday when working made your cleavage visible when you lie down thanks to the corset underneath. While his prince royal outfits made him standout-ish. Even though he hates flashy outfit he made them look ten times more better when he wore it.

It’s been a month since the day you both became friends behind everyone in the palace’s backs. You were sneaking off doing all sorts of things so you could chat away from your problems. You both were using one another as an escapism to your loneliness. To Johnny’s loneliness actually. You were the best thing that’s happened when the palace hired you. He couldn’t get enough of you, and only you he was seeking everyday.

If without you there was a moment in space and time where you were not with him he swore that he would be a different person, a different man that he wouldn’t know; he doesn’t want to be that person who doesn’t have you. He needs you to the point he’s trying to never let you go. Whenever you’re needed somewhere else he wants to go there with you, he wants to come and be with your presence even if it was through a little while. It could really make a difference to how he’s been clinging onto you.

Your cheeks grow out when you smile, you were the happiest with him around. You’ve came to an conclusion about it a few nights ago.

Johnny seeing how your happy wide smile was there he slowly leans downwards capturing your smile into a loving soft pecking kiss.

It was only three seconds. Three seconds it was when he gave a small kiss on your lips catching you off guard. He pulled away to see your reflection wondering how your reaction was like but to his face you were watching him so blindly.

Your voice comes out like the softest of sounds. “Please kiss me again.”

Johnny leans closer capturing another kiss to your command. Your mouths were softly press on one another rolling on the ground as you were in your tangled bodies in the meadow fields, kissing outside the palace like your absolute time depended on it. Your hearts were in synch like your own hands were in your each other’s hairs.

The prince pulled away first to solely undress himself taking off the blazer and the trousers instead of you undressing him. He was far too impatient and knowing your lack of time he was going to make this happen, you on the other hand took your dress off and the corset away from your body.

You and the prince roll your naked bodies on another again in which you felt his mouth latch to your neck sucking on it with kissing motions as he grabbed your hips strongly pushing them on his lap where your voice came out as a striking moan loud enough to attract the animals nearby. But thankfully the river down below if you walk for another two minutes was heard rocking against your soft noises he was so wanting to play on repeat. You sounded heavenly.

The way his name rolls off your tongue with your accent it made it so much better when he was going to be inside you. His mouth felt like scorching embers burning your skin from the inside to the outside. He marked you so much but enough that wouldn’t get you caught, further the point he stretched out out with his tongue. Going down giving you kitten licks to your pussy that’s been craving him from day one.

The taste of you on his tongue was indescribable to even think about he was addicted, physically he couldn’t stop sucking on your folds between your pussy making you arch your back on the field or the way you were twisting when he purposely digs his head deeper on your clit rubbing his tongue side to side in another zig zagging motion causing you to feel your fullest muscles work together to contradict your soft moans you were trying to bury down. Johnny made it impossible to be quiet because he didn’t want you to be. He wanted to hear you like it’s your last time.

“Johnny…! I’m going to slip…!” You murmur into nothing stopping you anymore as you shriek. Johnny practically moans against your pussy watching you now come undone on his mouth. He swore you tasted so much better than he could ever imagine and hope.

“You taste so much better than the palace foods.” He mentions boosting, something within you will forever remember that.

You felt yourself pant heavily as the sight of the prince lifting himself up slinging your hips with him where you could feel the growing manhood now push inside your wet hole. You slip in so nicely he lets out a string of long sleeves grunts and you wrap your arms on his chest.

Your breathing became unstable as you rut your hips on his lower body pushing him in fully, Johnny stares at you with half eyelids open filling him with pleasure and lust, but also the need for you.

You were both panting in the next minute when your pussy was stretched out by Johnny’s large cock inside you moving like a canon in and out constantly having you under the pressure of wanting to orgasm once again. Your highs were coming in fast and letting you rot on his cock Johnny couldn’t even remember how many times you came because next thing you know you’re here squirming out your biggest orgasm yet after the other. You’ve been hit on high with his cock pushing up your womb. Johnny’s hands roams your stomach surface like he was so proud of seeing him imprint on your stomach seeing you through him you couldn’t believe your eyes knowing that he was this far inside you.

“How’d you like the prince to finish inside you, my love.” He quotes into your ears and your eyes widen dilating on the pupils, he knew you liked it when he saw that crazy look on your face. Something screams you love getting bred and Johnny would gladly breed a hole like yours for days.

“My prince… please! Finish inside me. Use me to your advantage.” You achingly let out and Johnny couldn’t believe his ears how well you were doing with squeezing his cock. You really wanted him to finish inside you and you’re making it harder for Johnny to last longer than anticipated.

It was unending for you and him. Johnny only seeing him once in your stomach skinned out he came instantly in you filling your hole out with only his name, with only his load something you were screaming for to have and now you have it working inside you.

You could feel the way his warmth cock left its territory in on you and Johnny capturing a few more kisses with your sweet lips groaning out.

“We should do this more often, Y/n.”

Your cheeks grew warm when your eyes met Johnny as he said this. You’re both naked in middle of a field where anyone could see you but you both didn’t care at this point.

You smile kissing his forehead. “I agree.”

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The minute you split apart was the time where you were both scolded for not being around for your duties. Your order was to go to the chambers and clean up the mess the prince made. You knew he made a mess purposely to have you keep coming there because otherwise you wouldn’t be inside his chambers when he needs you.

That explains while you’re in his king size bed laying on the right side with your legs wrapped around and your arms on the side watching you guys stare at your eyes like they were a million stars in them. You smile cheesing when Johnny plays with your hairs twirling them around his fingers or sometimes putting them behind your ears, and occasionally he strokes it back so he could see your eyes.

You were in trouble but that’s all because of the prince you knew it. But you couldn’t care anymore because he made every worry melt away like it was nothing but a bunch of smoke.

He whispers. “Did you get shouted at alot?” He says worrying that you may of gotten punished.

You shake your head humming. “I was only shouted at. I didn’t get the capital punishment.” You joked and Johnny held you tight lowering his eyes. Something definitely wasn’t right.

Your eyebrows furrow seeing the worrying expression on Johnny’s face you couldn’t help but slowly wonder what’s happening to him. Usually he would be the one who’s lighting up the mood but now you’re the one left in the light and he was in the unusual dark cloud mood that’s what makes him standout now so weirdly.

Your voice came out as a surprise, spouting off at him. “Hey, is something wrong?”

Johnny didn’t answer for a whole minute until he pulls his arms away staring up at you. He was in this whole overthinking mess and you don’t know what could be making the young prince so much more absent minded.

This wasn’t the prince you know. The prince you know was the life of the party. In fact he we’re beginning to be bigger than life itself and you seeing him down on energy right now made it even worse because now you’re worried for him.

“My parents said they found a match for me.” He said lowering himself into multiple pieces where your heart sank.

You look away suddenly about to leave because you had the biggest reality check of your life happen to you right now. The man you love was getting married, the man you fell for was never going to be yours because people will talk and people love to talk about things that aren’t following the norm. You and Johnny were doomed from the start and somehow you had lingering hope that he would he yours but he’s ever going to be that.

Johnny grabbed your wrist so you couldn’t leave his bed. He pulled your wrist in his grip and when you turned around with tears in your eyes wanting to snatch it away.

You huff out breaking down. “Let me go Johnny.”

He didn’t let go.

You bit your bottom lip now begging. “Your highness let me go please.”

The unfamiliar name you’ve been calling him now wasn’t for Johnny. It wasn’t for the guy who fell for you it was the prince you work for in his own palace. Johnny looks at you unconvincingly he was struggling to want to let you go.

But the way you were watching him sternly made him pause and let you go. You left the chambers with the door shutting tight. The lingering footsteps dim down and he never wanted to scream so much in his life. It felt like the happiness leaving his life forever, because you were leaving.

The minute he knew when you both returned from outside his parents calling him to the meeting with him to tell him about the upcoming engagement of his to some princess from the east of Korea.

He never wanted marriage. He never intended on marrying ever but that was until he met you.

“You’re my only heir you need to get married and successful claim your lineage to the throne.” His mother tapped on the throne seeing Johnny.

Her son looks away scowling. “I don’t want to get married, Mother, I don’t know the princess either.”

Johnny could remember the moment from the afternoon like it was happening right now. It haunted him.

His father stood up glaring at Johnny for speaking back to his own mother, it was shameful to his father to have a rebelling son.

But for you he’d rebel the entire throne.

“You will marry the princess and you will be meeting her tomorrow. That is end of discussion.”

Johnny never plans to let you go. Even if you’re the first one to do so.

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You’re preparing decorations for the welcoming of the new royal family coming over to the palace, you however weren’t looking as happy as the other maids next to you who gossip about the new princess coming over. It fills your empty stomach with rage and nothing else knowing the man you love so dearly is about to be sweeping off his feet when a nice looking princess comes over.

You were basically feeding the lion in the den by working away. You clench your eyes into a glare fixing the flower bouquet with the ribbon.

One of the maids watch you roughly handle it. “Uhm Y/n you’re supposed to be gently tying the ribbon.”

You look over snapping out of your thoughts and your feelings were disappearing the moment one of your maid colleagues came over.

“Oh…right sorry.” You couldn’t believe you were nearly killing a bunch of flowers knowing damn well she will have Johnny fall for her.

I mean who wouldn’t of? You heard she’s the most beautiful princess in whole of Korea and you know that Johnny was a player in the past. It was clear the first day you came to clean his chamber’s he slept with plenty of women. But some deep part of you hoped he picks you, despite knowing well it’s a slim chance of you ever ending up with Johnny.

You felt betrayed almost. But you knew he can’t go against the throne or his parents because if he did it would be going against the world.

“Ladies the prince is coming!” The head of the maid said making everyone of the girls line up straight to greet the prince who was trotting his way to us.

You were pushed into a line straight up your shoulders and your head low. The minute the prince arrives walking past the maid line he saw each and one of them bow down paying respects to him this early morning on a new brand day.

He stops facing you suddenly and your gaze looks up at him. It was rather cold from you and you felt awkward when the rest of the maids stayed bowed down because they can’t get up until he leaves.

But he was facing you, speaking to you.

“Y/n.” He whispers almost and you widen your eyes looking away avoiding your eye contact.

Your hands push him when they couldn’t see. “Leave.” You say to him and Johnny bites his bottom lip in frustration as you pushed him away, once again. You’re so stubborn sometimes, he can understand why you’re being like this but is it too hard for you to stop and listen to him?

When he had no choice but to walk away with another heartbreak down his sleeve made by you the maids watch him strut away and they go back doing their work. They have to work faster because they will be arriving soon.

But you couldn’t work much when all you’re filled with is envious betrayal on your heart.

It’s like setting up your own lover to be with another. Johnny wasn’t even your lover but it definitely felt like it was that.

The next thing you know the whole palace was decorated in many fine refining decorations and designs. The walls were repainted into a pastel colour to suit fitting for the princesses arrival. It annoyed you at the same time, the idea of the princess coming and staying at the palace. You had no choice but to fake a smile and go along with it. Everyone was pleased by the outcome results and if anything they were happy for the prince who might finally settle down with someone, have children with, carry on the monarchy and lead the country into greatness once more.

But all you saw was heartbreak.

The royal family made their way into the throne room where they were greeted by many palace guards on stand watch patrolling the walls within the palace securing their grounds till they leave to further the work. The maids were pouring the warm tea on the cups resting by the table, the minute you saw the beautiful puff out dress on the young woman you swear you were never starstruck until now. She looked beautiful, beyond anything you’d imagine any else.

The queen and King welcome the princess’ and her family in like they were there own family members. It was cheerful greeting enough to make your thoughts flood back to negativity. You look away when the king turns his sweet attention to his son.

“Johnny what do you say to the princess?” The king saw an opportunity to introduce the two young people, with a sheepish smile.

Johnny couldn’t believe his father was trying to set him up with someone he could care less about. The prince looks at the woman bowing his head. “Hello Princess Haewon.” The young woman smiles bowing her head in return.

“Hello prince Johnny. It’s good to finally see you in person.” She smiles sweetly you could vomit into the teacup and serve it to her, god you try to stay less petty but you cannot help it.

‘I’d like to say likewise but it’s not.’ Johnny’s thoughts mourns in his death knowing that it was meant to be a blessing. But it’s not because this woman wasn’t who he seeks.

You were right there and Johnny felt the tension rise until the parents were soon to discuss dinner plans. Heck they were discussing all sorts of plans at first; starting with horse riding activities, maybe even attending Johnny to hunting which Haewon seemed more than merry to go about.

“Oh you must be tired. How about my servants lead you into your chambers for tonight?” The king encourages chipping the fingers at the servants and few maids to come forward.

“Oh Y/n, you can be assigned to the princess chambers instead.”

You stand by the side when the king called you specifically. Johnny’s eyes widen as he stood up suddenly making everyone in the throne room look at him with their eyes glued in confusion wonder. His voice strikes at the king and protectively coming to Y/n holding the side where he stares at his father in the eyes.

“Father Y/n is my chamber’s maid.” He remarks, the king was stunned looking at his son. “I’m aware but you have many maids who clean for you. Give Y/n to Princess Haewon.”

“She can have any other maid but Y/n.” He stated firmly and the King was left in confusion. “Why is that?”

Johnny looks down at you. “Y/n is the only one who knows the temperature i like my bed at. I will not stand in giving Y/n to anyone.”

Haewon’s eyes were watching you dreadfully. It caught everyone in surprise enough to give the impression that Johnny was possessive of you. You could feel everyone’s eyes simply eating you alive until the king gives up.

“Fine. Haewon you may have another maid assigned to you.” The princess nods at the king’s approval.

Johnny looks away. “If so i’ll be taking my leave.” Without saying anything else the prince leaves and grabs you along with him. The people in the palace room were deeply bizarre about this announcement as soon as you both left the room fell into awkward silence.

Just what on earth was that? They all had this expression that couldn’t possibly be processing the impression of the Prince.

The minute you found yourself running away with Johnny you were pinned by the wall nearing a corridor that’s been empty. No sign of palace guards patrolling leaving only you and a very self conscious prince pinning you by with a heavy pant. You found yourself arching your eyebrows at him huffing out and slapping his shoulders in annoyance. “What the hell was that back there huh?” You couldn’t believe he was there arguing about who you were working for and who you were not. Johnny stares down at you momentarily. “I’m not giving you up.”

He said sternly catching your attention into a prancing contest between staying in or staying out. You watch him in disbelief. “Your highness we can’t be together.” You whisper yelled, trying to get a point across to the stubborn man but he couldn’t budge and listen to your reasoning.

“Oh I’m your highness now?—” He suddenly bursts pulling away with a confused expression and the eyebrows arching at your words leaving the soft lips. You never call him highness, it’s always been Johnny. Always when it was just you two.

You held your breath in and the eye contact. “Yes you are and that is the problem here Johnny! You’re a prince and we will never be together.” — it broke to hear you say this to him when it was in fact a massive reality check to the prince who loves you dearly. But you were right and he couldn’t accept such a realm without you in it.

He lowers his gaze suddenly the legs felt weak like they were melting on the top of the ice berg where you were standing there holding back your tears. “Give me up don’t make this harder than it already is. We have no future together. If they knew — you would’ve been punished. And I would be dead.” You blunt out looking away. “I would be dead in a prison cell and your parents would have punished you.”

There was a sharing silence that kills the both of you quietly like a gas poisoning your insides turning them rotten just like how your love was breaking apart. Johnny can’t handle this breakup, this heartbreak from you he cannot be without you. It physically tore him apart like he was nothing but a piece of paper ready to be scrunched up and thrown into a trash can midway through the air. Your conflicted self was in a war between wanting Johnny but a large part of you self restraining knowing you weren’t able to; the best and better option is for you to run away from your lover, let him have a life he could thrive in unlike the life he would suffer with you.

The prince standing there no longer blocking the way he was just staying there watching your cold and broken eyes crying because he knew, he knew you loved him so why couldn’t you accept him? Johnny could always convince his parents. He could. He’s the heir and no one would say anything about him being with you, at least that’s what he will do no matter what it takes. But you’re being far too realistic in your own head. You had your own take vision on what will happen which left his dream to be crushed, just like how you were crushing his heart in your hand into miniature pieces resembling a broken mirror.

Johnny’s sullen face dimmers like the life leaving him. “Y/n there must be another way… I promise I can protect you from the public—“

“Johnny Suh!” You clench your jaw at him, instantly shutting the prince up watching you get an outburst for the first time at him. “Get it into your head. I don’t want you. Go be with your rightful wife.”’

He balls the fingers into his fist looking down. Your fingers pull themselves rubbing away the tears streaming down your cheeks.

“She’s no wife of mine.” He faintly told. “She’s not the woman I want. The woman I want, breathe, seek and dream claims to not want to be with me. But I find that hard to believe when you were screaming my name few days ago in the field.” He eyes you darkly and you hated how far your cheeks went red. You look away not finding this amusing.

Johnny never wants to let you go because you’re the only thing in his life that matters to him. Matters to him more than the throne itself, he could never replace you with his duty. The duty only hurts him but you, you don’t. You made him feel loved unconditionally and you made life worth while when he found it meek and cruel to survive in. But now instead of being his healer, you’re becoming the one thing that’s making him hurt with unimaginable force and consequences he didn’t sign up for.

You’re His Healer.

Johnny’s breath comes out weakly as he walks back to you making you take your footing back pushing you into the wall softly and your faces leaning together. You tried your best to fight the sudden urge to pull and kiss him right there and then, but you remind yourself it’s not your place to do those things. You told yourself to not give him any false hope. The prince couldn’t get enough of you, so much he caressed your hair behind your ears so he can look you in your eyes. “At least prove to me you don’t want me, Y/n, please.” You knew what he meant. You knew it by the moment he leans closer towards you slowly.

You await the kiss to happen and when it did Johnny felt the same way about kissing you the moment he did it the first time. It felt like the first but it was far by it being your first ever shared kiss, but this time it was much more desperate and filled with despair than the other times you’ve been kissing. You stay there pressed on the wall kissing him harshly enough to leave his lips becoming bright red and swollen like he was hit. Johnny was indeed hit, hit by your undesirable love, you’re kissing him like it’s your last.

He wanted to scream your name and tell you to marry him. He wants you to be by his side as he rules this country because he knows what you’re capable of no matter your status; he doesn’t need you to be wealthy and well respected. He just needs you.

You break away hearing Johnny struggle to pull away from the kiss as if he didn’t want it to end knowing this will be the last thing he will remember with you. You weep gently with your sadness showing currently becoming existing it was getting harder to stay strong.

The kiss broke you down more than you’d ever thought it would.

“Maybe in my next life I can see you and the world in all the seven colours.” Johnny said to you caressing your face, especially the tears rolling down them were caught between his soft nails. His words brought something within you alive as you close your eyes pressing your forehead against his.

“Goodbye Johnny.” Your last words trail to him.

Johnny will find you in this life or the next, you’ll become his and he will see you in all colours. He will witness the colour of your tears, the colour of your soft longing lips he wishes to always remember. Your first reaction when becoming shy or flustered, he wants to look into your eyes as the light reflects the colour in them. He wants to be the first one to see you in your wedding gown down the aisle.

All because you’re the one thing that saved him when no one wanted to. You’re His Healer.

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@onyourhyuck please refer from translating and copyrighting my work thank youu! Reblog this fic and follow me for more updates it helps a girl out! <33

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satninroses · 11 months

Note

Reader accidentally flashes elvis her bare pussy (not just a flash but she doesn’t even realize she is just sitting there completely exposed to him). elvis debated whether to tell her because he didn’t want to make it awkward (and he secretly is enjoying the view and complete cluelessness of y/n just basically spread out) but then he thinks in case she realizes it would be way weirder if elvis just hadn’t have told her.

Over Exposed

(A/N): Hi! Busy week this has been 🙃. I know I haven’t been super active and I apologize! Between transitioning from part-time to full-time and home life, there hasn’t been much me-time lately. I promise I am working on requests!! I love you all very much and I appreciate you all sticking with me and my inconsistent schedule.

Note: This one probably isn’t good. Long story short, I wrote two versions to this story and didn’t really like either of them. It’s a little messy but please understand that I am just having an off week. Things should get better with this next request. (hopefully)

Summary: You accidently flash Elvis and it causes a stir.

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 2,245

Warnings: Swearing, Flashing, Mentions of Smut (But not really any smut), Implied Male Masturbation, It’s a little rough.

You traveled around with Elvis and the Memphis Mafia as a personal assistant. You could do paper work, you could pick up Elvis’ jumpsuits from the dry cleaner, you could even make food whenever they didn’t want to go out. You were basically their Jack-of-all trades.

You enjoyed your job a lot. Not only was the pay good, but you got a lot of perks like being in the presence of Elvis Presley himself. He was never rude to you, he always treated you with respect and kindness. There were days where he would be on edge from stress and dealing with fans, or nosy press, or himself, but he would still treat you with kindness.

Today was no exception. The Colonel called you and him into a meeting the night before a big press conference. He had requested that you were both up bright and early, which wasn’t your favorite but, you could handle it. You went to bed sometimes around 7 P.M. that way you could wake up with enough time to shower, do your hair and makeup, and paint your nails. In retrospect, you didn’t think that your clock would malfunction and go off at 8:30 and not 7.

‘I want to see you both in the lobby at 8. I do not want to be late, understood?’ You nodded enthusiastically and wrote it down in your notepad. ‘(Y/N), I want you down here a little earlier. We need to go over the plan once more before my boys big day.’

You thought it was cut and dry. Go to bed early, do your morning routine, go down to the lobby. Apparently not.

“God damnit!” You shouted angrily. You threw the blankets overboard and hopped out of bed. You stripped away your night dress and hopped in the shower. (I know showers take a minute but you will never understand how concentrated on cleaning yourself you are when you don’t have a 5 minute time limit.) You washed away all of the dirt from your body from the previous day and brushed your teeth.

You washed and conditioned your hair, washed yourself, and hopped out. You grabbed the nearest towel to yourself, not knowing that it had probably already been used, and scraped any and all moisture off your figure. You threw the door to the bathroom open and began to rush around your room for some clothes.

At the bottom of the basket in the corner of the hotel room, you pulled out a white button up blouse with large flow-y sleeves, a black pencil skirt, a pair of silk-lines pantyhose, and some black heels.

You ran back to the bathroom to apply some quick moisturizer and makeup. You rubbed some kind of face cream all over, applied some subtle eyeliner, some red lipstick and a little bit of mascara. You grabbed your purse off the bedside table and practically teleported downstairs.

In the lobby, things weren’t much better. Colonel was pacing and muttering angrily to himself. Elvis and Jerry sat on a couch and went over the game plan. Some of the other Mafia members were at the hotel shop grabbing some snacks for the ride.

“Where is that woman! I told her she needed to be the first one downstairs and she’s the LAST!” Colonel had finally snapped, drawing attention from the other hotel guests. “Damnit, give her a break! Everyone has an off day. It’ll be fine.” Elvis had replied defensively. “I’m sure she’ll be down in just a second.”

Right he was! You stumbled in the hallway, clothing a little uneven, hair wet, and a stressed out look on your face. “I’m so sorry Mr. Presley! I-I didn’t keep track of time I’m so sorry!”

Elvis chuckled and stood. “Darlin’, It’s ok. Happens to the best of us.” Colonel had overheard the conversation.

“Things like this do not happen to people like her. She should have known better.” He finally turns to acknowledge you. “Do better. Your job is on the line.”

Elvis’ amused expression turned to one of disdain. “You don’t make the rules here. Anyways, Billy said the limo’s here. Let go.”

You nodded and followed after him at a brisk pace as to not anger anyone else today. Once you, Elvis, Colonel, and the rest of the mafia had made it outside, a valet driver stepped out and opened the door for all of you. Elvis placed a hand on the small of your back. “Ladies first.” You smile sweetly at him and nod your head.

You throw your purse in one of the seats and and begin to step in. The roof of the door was a little bit shorter to your - or anyone else’s- liking. You bent down in front of Elvis to get it not realizing the show you were putting on for him.

Elvis eyed your bare cunt as you bent down to get in. His eyes are glued to the way your pretty snatch looks so moist and soft.

He practically waged a war in his mind to get himself to look away. He can’t be hard before one of the biggest conferences in his career.

One by one, him and the rest of the mafia get in and take their seats. Jerry sits to the right of you leaned against the door while Elvis sits to the left of you with his thick legs spread. The rest of the mafia fills in some empty spots.

“(Y/N). Can you add something to my agenda?” He speaks lowly. You nod and retrieve the notepad and pen from your purse. “Yes Mr. Presley! What would you like added?”

“We’re gonna go out to to eat after this conference. I want some BBQ. What do we say fellas? Do we want BBQ for dinner tonight?” Some of the mafia utter a few ‘Hell yeah’s!’ You nod and add it to lined paper before turning to look at him again. “Any thing else Mr. Presley?”

“Yeah.”

“What would that be?”

“Stop calling me Mr. Presley. You can call me Elvis.”

You turn to him and blush. “Sorry…” You looked away bashfully. “S’alright doll.” He replies softly. You smile at his words and turn to look at him again.

After about 10 minutes of quiet ambience and small talk between the guys, you had finally arrived at the convention center. Elvis pushed his sunglasses up his nose and nodded at everyone in the car. Colonel was the first to exit. He stood by the car door and let Elvis out. The screams of fans, flashes of cameras, loud voices asking his questions filled everyone’s senses. You followed out after Elvis and everyone in line behind you got out in an orderly fashion. Colonel shut the door and followed the group.

“Mr. Presley! When will your newest single be out?”

“Soon.”

“Mr. Presley, is it true that you were spotted outside the international hotel with a woman? Who was that woman? What relationship does she have to you?”

‘Gosh, I could never be a celebrity. People are just so nosy’ You thought to yourself. Awaiting Elvis’ answer, the interviewer tried to block his path. The colonel caught wind of this and pushed his way up to where you and Elvis were. “We have places to be. That was his personal assistant (Y/N). Move along now.” For once in your life, you could thank the colonel for such a heroic act.

Once you guys pushed through the crowd, Elvis leaned down to you. “(Y/N). Put something on my agenda please.”

“Sure! What would you like to add Mr. Pre- Elvis.” You corrected yourself before he had the chance too. He chuckled at you and clapped a hand on your shoulder. “Good girl. Anyways, I need you to figure out who that guy was back there. Send Jerry or Billy to him and have them tell him to never do that again.”

You nodded. “Yes Elvis, right away.” On the notepad, you wrote ‘Find scary guy. Have Jerry give him the what-for.’

Once you guys had made it to the resting rooms in the convention hall, everyone sat down to relax. Going from the car to a room shouldn’t have taken as long as it did or be as stressful as it was however, if you’re traveling with Elvis, that’s sure to be a huge factor.

Once you set your stuff down, you made your way over to the rest of the mafia. “jMr. Schilling? May I have a word with you?” Jerry’s head shot up at your quiet request and he nods his head.

“What’s up (Y/N)?”

“Mr. Presley has requested that we find out who the gentleman was that got in the way earlier. He would like you to have a word.”

Jerry nods his head. “You got it. We’ll give you guys some time to get ready. We’ll be back soon. Come on guys! We’re going out”

Jerry and the rest of the mafia exit the room leaving you and Elvis. Colonel had made his way out to talk to the organizers of the event a few minutes before.

Finally. It was quiet. You could relax for the first time since this morning. You sat down on one of the lounging chairs and crossed your legs. Elvis would be back from the restroom in a second so it’s better to be ready to cover the plan once more before the conference. The door to the bathroom opens and out walks Elvis.

He sauntered to the other couch before collapsing with a groan. “Wish we were back at home. It’s a little too cold out here.” He commented. You giggle and clasp your hands together. “This feels just like when I was younger. It feels good to get out of the Tennessee heat.”

“Hey, watch it!” He pointed a accusingly at you. You let out a little laugh and a quick apology. You felt less tense around Elvis. You felt like you could loosen up a bit. You stood from your spot on the chair and looked at him. “Do you want anything from the minibar?”

He nodded his head. “I’ll come with. Might find something I like.” He stood as well and you both walked i got the second room of the suit to the fridge. You opened it and immediately felt a sense of relief. You could detox with a little drink.

“Doll, could you get me the Pepsi-Cola from the bottom shelf?” You nodded and bent down.

Elvis had forgot about the incident from earlier, when you were in the same position. Your skirt lifted a little bit to reveal your pretty ass and pussy. He gulped harshly. He could feel his pants tighten at the sight.

“E, I don’t think this is Pepsi! It’s some other one. Do you want me to look for something different?”

Not wanted the moment to end, he denied your offer. “No, I swear it was back there, look more in the back.”

He could slap himself for the way he had been acting but he really couldn’t help it. He’s always wanted to fuck his cute little assistant and now she’s in a position where it could happen. Bending down to reach the bottom of the fridge mean that more of your body was exposed to his eyes. He wasn’t expecting you to bend down further just… keep bending down. The skirt rose higher to completely uncover your ass and cunt. He caught a better glance at it this time around than

He found your obliviousness almost laughable. Could you not feel.. the air or the coolness hitting your ass? Now, as a decent human being, it would be instinct to tell you and let you know that he wasn’t mad. However, a small part (which was slowly turning into the majority) of him enjoyed the view. He wanted nothing more than to keep you there and fuck you before the conference.

In the midst of his daydreams and fantasies, you stood up and handed him a cold bottle of Pepsi- Cola. “You were right. There were some in the back. Sorry about that!” You spoke sheepishly. You took in his appearance. You noticed the look in his eye that screamed animalistic.

“Elvis? Are you ok?”

Your soft voice broke him from his trance. His eyes gazed down at yours and they widened. “Yeah! Sorry darlin’. Something caught my eye is all.” He spoke quickly. You nodded your head and smiled. “That’s ok! However, the guys will be back soon. We should go over your responses, alright?”

This would be fine if he wasn’t painfully hard. He looked down quickly and turned so his back was to you. “Yeah that’s fine. I gotta use the can again. I’ll be fast.”

You nodded again. “I’ll be on the lounge chairs waiting for you!” You said enthusiastically.

He slipped into the bathroom and locked the door. He put his hand on the counter and the other on his forehead. How was he gonna get this all out before everyone got back? Why does he feel both guilty and not about this? Whatever the reason for his feelings were could wait. He needed deal with his erection first.

He sat on the side of the tub and pulled himself out from his black slacks. He signed in pleasure before rubbing his hand over the tip.

“God damn her. She’s gonna be the death of me.”

(taglist: @mt12209 @myradiaz @presleyenterprise @18lkpeters @austinsmutler @ccab )

#satninroses #elvis presley #reader insert #x reader #50s elvis #60s elvis #70s elvis #elvis 2022 #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #elvis x reader smut #elvis presley x reader smut #x reader smut #reader insert smut #elvis smut

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justjams2003 · 7 months

Text

Blossoms-12

Pairing: Erik Destler x OFC (Mariposa Claremont)

Summary: A young author travels away from her family to The Opera she has heard so much about. She is lost and confused and yet still seems to get a job there as a cleaner. Yet when she meets a mysterious man there, everything changes. Her mind is entirely consumed, but will she allow her burning need for him to consume her life as well?

Warnings: Haircutting? Kidnapping? Mentions of sexual themes, angst, and fluff too, kissing, drowning, fights. Tell me if I miss anything

Word count: 1,7k

Masterlist

Part 11~Part 13(coming soon)

Dividers: @yaynowimglad @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Tags: @rclector @jordanmunson3 @ssssssws-world

Have I been down this tunnel before? The stone of the underground all begins to look the same. There aren’t any defining features to the grey walls. Not to mention it is oh-so-very quiet. There aren’t even any sounds of rats chittering or bugs on any of the walls. I can’t hear the music in these dark tunnels like I could in his cave.

That is of course, until I hear the click as I take another step forward. “Oh no,” I can’t help but mutter out, my imagination begins running wild. It doesn’t happen suddenly, I’m frozen in my spot. Scared that if I were to move an arrow might fly at me. Worse though, the walls begin closing in.

Panic rises in my throat, and I can already hear my breath rising. My frozen state is interrupted when the walls begin moving faster around me. I book it, I pick up my dress and run as fast as I can. My legs seem to be just a bit to slow compared to the walls.

A sour taste forms as bile threatens to pour out. My shins burn and I can feel my heart in my ears. My vision turns darker, partially from panic and partially from the walls creeping in my peripheral vision. But then, there is a light at the end of the closing tunnel, quite literally.

I don’t look where I’m going. I just need to get out. I need to escape the closing walls. And then suddenly, the floor falls out from underneath me. I can hear the walls that I was running from close with a loud thud. And then I too, hit the floor with a similar noise. My arms and legs are now covered in scrapes and bruises.

A loud ting noise is heard, and I snap my head up. A grate now covered the hole I’ve fallen into. My head hurts, I can hear the thudding of blood rushing into my ears. “Oh my fucking god!” I yell out, slamming my fists against the walls. I never curse, I hate it but this does seem like the perfect moment.

My head is in my hands, and I grip onto my dark brown locks. It’s a bit longer now, sitting just above my shoulders. I can’t help but let the tears fall, now that I’m alone. Why did I say that? Why the fuck did I say that? I want him, I need him to write. He fuels me and lights my passions and now I’ve opened my big mouth and pushed him away.

What have I done? He holds my heart, my excitement and my passion. He’s the key an adventure and yet at the same time he feels like home more than my own home ever did. And now I’ve scared him off! I’ve called him dubious and myopic, after comforted my soul.

Then again, I’m not wrong. I can’t spend my whole life comforting his fragility and assuring him of his worthiness. I’d much rather spend the time laughing and loving. Intertwining bodies rather than reassuring his insecurity. Yet, he also does the same for me. Abating my dislike of certain parts of me that he sees even when I try to hide it.

Can’t he just love me without worry and I the same?

A new sound causes my tears to dry up. Water. Water running. Then I feel it, the wet slosh on my bottom. The hole I’m stuck in is filling with water. “No. No, no, no.” Again I start panicking. Is the whole thing going to fill with water? But the top is closed up, I can’t escape.

Now is the time to act and there is only one person who knows I’m down here. I jump up, too short by a meter to even touch the grating. “Erik! Erik, please!” I hate screaming if it’s not with joy. My voice is filled with worry and despiration and I hate it. I start jumping up and down, trying to see any way to escape.

But there is none and the water is flowing even faster. “Erik, please, I’m sorry!” I’ll eat up my words if it means getting out of this alive. My birthday is around the corner, and I don’t plan to die at 18. The water is at my waist now and soon it might just be shoulder heidth. Now I’m really becoming hysterical. Screaming my head off and trying to throw out as much as I can.

It doesn’t help though. The water is rising fast and soon I won’t be able to stand anymore. “Please, Erik, help! I can’t swim!”

Sobs rack through my soul and my whole body curls up into a ball. I grab my mask and throw it as far from my me as I can. I can hear it jump from the walls and clatter across the floor. I don’t want it anywhere near me. I don’t want to be reminded of my horrid, disfigured face. More so the way it makes me feel.

It makes me feel gross. It reminds me of the people who laughed at me as a child. It reminds me of the people who beat me, whipped me and ruined my body for someone as beautiful as her. It reminds me that people have made be believe that hurting her is better than allowing her in.

It makes me feel safe. And she is anything but safe. She with the golden-sand hair and the sea-blue eyes. She is adventure. She is a sailboat traveling 100km/h in the direction that not even the captain knows. Her parents would hate me, I’m sure. I can’t always give her the sunlight, but I can at least give her my heart. Can’t I?

Help! An echo bounces off the walls of the tunnels and all the way into my cavern. My head snaps up, into the direction that the young girl had walked. Then I hear it again, this time much louder. My feet scatter across the floor and my mind is only one thing.

I know the exact route she took, as long as she keeps calling for me. The tunnels wind and twist and I just thank whatever god sent her to me that she did not take the route of arrows. “I can’t swim!” Now I truly move faster than I ever had before. The higher the water, the faster it flows.

I open the latch that enter the trap and instantly turn the water valve shut. I yank the metal grid from the floor, over 100 kilograms and I sent the damn thing flying. I bend over and pull her from the hole by the arms. She’s soaked from the shoulders down, her whole body is shaking. Aurora clings to me, refusing to let even a centimetre of my fabric go.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She repeats over and over. It’s hard to even make out what she’s saying merely because she’s crying so much. I wrap my arms around her, rubbing her bare arms and pulling her as close as I can. All while I continue to hush her.

“I can’t die, please, I have so much I have left to do.” She mutters, her racking now died down. Only small whines of begs and pleas for her life exit her mouth. “Hey, I won’t let that happen. You’re safe. I won’t let you die, not while you’re still such a little flower.” She lets go slightly, wiping the snot and tears from her face.

“You promise?” She asks and then lift her head to look up to me. Her words trail off and her eyes seem to go wide. She doesn’t move an inch. Anon, her look of shock turns to one of wonder. A smirk, not a laugh or a face of joy, but a smirk of wonder and dare I even say something else?

Then is hits me, I forgot my mask in my alcove. And yet the look she gives me makes me so warm inside. It doesn’t make me feel stupid or hideous. Rather, I feel a blush creep across my ears. Soon after she smiles, it drops again. Mariposa lets go of me, and pulls herself up.

The young girl wraps her arms around herself. She avoids my gaze and turns her back to me. “Please, take me back...” Her voice is small and shy and hurt now. Long gone is the naïve girl who doesn’t fear a handsome stranger. Now, someone who demands to protect her heart, even if it’s from someone who she trusts with her life.

Fix it, Erik. Fix it the mistake of previous past. I don’t think. I don’t think of the insecurity of my bare face. Or the embarrassment I may cause her. Or the people in my past telling me I’m not good enough to be loved. I grab her by the wrist and pull her against me.

My lips land on hers without any hesitation. My hands entangle into her dark blonde waves and land on her soft waist. I can feel her kiss back in the same passion and lust as I do her. Both our tongues intertwine, and our souls connects, and, in that moment, I know I mustn’t let her go.

Except when we must come up for air, there is a moment of bliss and then she shoves me away with all her might. “You can’t do that, Erik! You can’t call me your Clementine, you can’t take me on dates, you can’t invite me in your home and you can’t kiss me like that if you don’t allow me to fall in love. You are playing with me. I am young, I know, but I won’t let you break my heart like this again.”

Her words cut deep, except the it’s more truth than harsh words. “My Aurora-” I go to hold her again but she raises her hand. “No, you will take me back.” And so, I did, knowing I could not change her mind. And when she was safe, she forbade me from following her and I listened, not knowing if she would ever let me see her again.

#phantom of the opera #the phantom of the opera #erik destler x reader #erik x reader #erik the phantom #erik destler #erik destler x ofc #erik destler x oc #opera ghost #opera ghost x ofc #opera ghost x reader

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honeyjars-sims · 8 months

Text

1.27 First Impression

Ambrose: Hello, darling, I'm Ambrose. But I guess you knew that! You're the new Social Media Assistant, correct?

Chantal: Yes, I'm Chantal. It's really great to meet you, I thought I'd be training under someone else.

Ambrose: Heavens no, you'll see that I'm very hands on with my employees. Or family members as I like to call them.

Chantal: That's great! You know, I've been following SNOOT forever. The products are just so amazing.

Ambrose: Oh? Which one is your favorite?

Chantal: Oh, um...probably that vagina ball thing. The one that gets rid of all the toxins. It's really made a difference in my health.

Ambrose: You mean the VaJayJay All Day Refresher? You really should familiarize yourself with the product names, darling. I spend quite a lot of time coming up with names befitting of the products. It's all about quality here at SNOOT.

Chantal: Of course, Ms. Staton. I'll start working on that.

Ambrose: Please, call me Ambrose. We really are a family here. I'm more than just a lifestyle guru and influencer, you know. I really pride myself on being down-to-earth, Chantel.

Chantal: Uh, it's Chan-TAL. I'm looking forward to becoming a part of the family.

Ambrose: Wonderful! I really hate to be a bother on your first day, but I do need you to pick up my dry cleaning. I have an interview on Del Sol Today tomorrow morning and I need something that says "relatable."

Chantal: Sure, I'll head there now.

Ambrose: You're such a blessing. Oh, and please do be careful, these are designer pieces that must be handled delicately. I'm sure you understand, Chantel.

Chantal: It’s Chantal. I understand completely. I'll be as gentle as possible with your garments.

Ambrose: Great. You know where Sunset Cleaners is, right? I'm sure you do, it's the most popular dry cleaners in town. Well worth the extra cost.

Chantal: Of course, I go there all the time.

Ambrose: Sounds like you're all set, then! I will need your assistance with dressing when you return. I'll see you in a bit, Chantel.

Chantal: It's--nevermind. I'll be back soon.

[Chantal leaves]

Chantal: Lin-Z, I need directions to Sunset Cleaners.

Lin-Z: Finding Sunset Cleaners. Head South on...

Previous | Beginning of story | Beginning of chapter | Next

#ts4 #sims 4 #the sims #simblr #ts4 story #sims story #sims storytelling #stksafeharbor #sh:chapter1 #sh:chantal #sh:ambrose #safeharborstory

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reincarnatedonthefirst · 14 days

Text

Yesterday was a success. I had the three-hour dinner date with the out-of-state client.

I started off around 8:30 AM, making calls to find a dry cleaner that could clean my date night dress by 3PM. I found a place eighteen miles from me, dropped it off, and picked it up at 3PM.

I painted my fingernails and toes before picking up the dress. My hands turned out beautifully, but my toes: not so much.

Anyhow, I got ready and I made such a good choice with that dress because it was a fcking knockout on me. The client was actually short, bald, and overweight and I very much looked like a high-paid hooker next to him at the restaurant.

Anyway, conversation was great during dinner. It turns out, we both grew up in the same city, graduated from the same college (different years because he’s in his sixties), and he sent his daughters to the same private school I went to in high school!

I still need to get used to dinner etiquette but I’m doing better. When we got to the table, I hesitated before sitting and waited for him to pull my chair out. I let him open all doors and walk in back of me. However, as usual, I forgot to remove my napkin from my lap when excusing myself from the table and it fell off my lap and onto the floor. He almost bent down to pick up for me but I made the mistake and bending over and picking it up myself. Also, I referred to the bathroom as “bathroom” instead of “ladies room” when I excused myself. I’m still rough around the edges when dining out and I need to refine my skills.

Anyhow, getting back to his hotel was a bit awkward but I did what made most sense. He was in town on business and had no car. I had my car with me so it made sense that we just drive together to the hotel in my car. He paid for my valet. We got to the hotel, though, the valet offered us a cheaper alternative for parking so we wouldn’t have to pay the overnight parking rate. I accepted the alternative parking, but in retrospect, I should have let my date handle that conversation with the valet. During dates, it’s best to let the client take the lead especially when they’re paying for everything unless the client is a fumbling, bumbling idiot.

Anyway, we got back to his room, I spent about five minutes in the bathroom, changing and preparing my nether regions for sex.

When I got out of the bathroom, he wasted no time and immediately started kissing me. He actually has a slightly effeminate tone when he speaks and he’s a very gentle person. You might even think he was gay but he is very heterosexual man. He was groping while we kissed like a man who was starving for sex.

Sex, in general, was horrific because he spent nearly an hour going down on me. He gnawed my vagina raw. It was horrible. Men have positively no clue how to perform oral on women. I just gritted my teeth and endured it. He made me cum within the first twenty minutes but only because I was moving my hips and grinding my vagina on his face. He then spent another forty minutes on a desperate mission to give me an orgasm again… It was so unnecessary. Men over fifty seem to have a preoccupation with “pleasing” women but they all suck at it like younger men.

Anyway, we finally got to penetration at the end. He lasted about a minute and a half. I was “into it” (I enjoy sex, generally, so I don’t have to “fake” anything). He was very pleased with all the intimacy in general and remarked on our “chemistry”. He said I was now his “friend” and he would have to see me again, whether or not he came back to my city or decided to fly me to him. We will see. But he was a very satisfied customer and I’m proud of what I accomplished with him, service-wise.

He walked me back to valet through the hotel. This time, I looked like even more of a high-paid hooker because I was walking next to him in this dope, sexy dress while he escorted me in a t-shirt and jeans. No one really saw us because it was late. Even if they had, I wouldn’t have cared because I do for a living what most people are too afraid or ashamed of to do and I get paid for it.

Anyway, I hope to get more dinner date clients because I enjoy dressing up and it pays well.

The most unglamorous part of the date was ending up with a swollen, raw clitoris. My vagina was so raw and tender that my pee burned it when I got home. 😑 No bueno.

#clients #me

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andydrysdalerogers · 2 years

Text

Aurora ~ Part Two

Pairings: Andy Barber vs Lloyd Hansen; Andy Barber x OFC Aurora "Rory" Thatcher

Summary: Andy has found the girl of his dreams... and the girl of someone's psychopathic obsession as well. Family as they say, can be a bitch...

Work Count: 4K+

Warnings: Mafia! Andy Barber, Mafia! Lloyd Hansen, obsessive tendencies, stalking, assault, fluff, mentions of parental death, this is a multi-verse of mixed characters

This work is 18+ only. Please heed the warnings and walk away as this story does get violent as it goes on...

Banner by @justawriterand

Mood board and dividers by @firefly-graphics

Series Masterlist ~ Main Masterlist

Rory woke to a beautiful morning. The sunshine was brighter the birds were louder, the colors more vibrant. She stretched and smiled. She reminded herself that it was her day off from the bakery.

Andy woke up feeling lighter than before. He closed his eyes to see Rory’s beautiful face and he smiled. He reached for his phone.

A: Good morning, Beautiful

R: Good morning handsome

A: I have some things to take care of this morning, but I will be by to visit.

R: I’m just getting ready to clean and then I have some errands, but I’ll be back in the afternoon

Andy frowned at his phone. He didn’t want Rory out alone while Rumlow still lurked. He made a call.

“Diskant, I need you to be on a security detail.”

Sure boss. Who?

“Aurora Thatcher. She’s going to run errands, but I don’t want to frighten her. Watch her place and escort her wherever she wants to go.”

You got it boss. Send me the address.

Andy ended the call feeling better. He would protect his girl. But first, he had a stop to make.

Rory cleaned up her apartment that had been neglected for the most part. When she went to do her laundry, she realized that she needed to go to the dry cleaners for her aprons. Andy called and she was filled with joy. The man was so attentive and sweet that she squealed. She spun around, twirling on her toes. She stopped and took a deep breath. Finish your tasks Rory so you can spend tonight with him, she told herself. She finished up and got dressed.

As she stepped outside, a familiar face startled her. A face she had hoped to never see again. “Miss Thatcher.”

Rumlow stood up from where he was leaning on the fence. “I believe our discussion was not over.” The smirk on his face was playful but lustful. Like a predator stalking his next meal.

How did you find me? Rory took a step back towards the door, her blood running cold.

“We know a lot about you Miss Thatcher.” He could see the terror in her eyes, and he enjoyed it. He stepped forward but another voice interrupted.

“Miss Thatcher!” Rory looked at the man and recognized him from dinner the night before. “I’m sorry for being late. Mr. Barber said you wanted to run some errands. Thank you Rumlow for watching his girl.”

Rory looked at her savior and nodded. “Y-yes. Just needed to pick up some aprons.”

Rumlow grinded his teeth in anger. “Not a problem Diskant.” He turned to look at her. “I’ll be seeing you real soon.” He stomped off.

Rory sagged against the door frame. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t get here faster Miss Thatcher. Paul Diskant.” He offered his hand.

“How…”

Paul smiled apologetically. “Mr. Barber requested security for you. I was in my car, and I saw Rumlow approach you.”

“Oh ok,” she smiled softly at Andy’s thoughtfulness. “Well, I should get going. Thank you for your help.” She moved to walk around him.

“Let me drive you.” He stepped into Rory’s path.

“I really don’t…”

“Mr. Barber insists. I’ll take you wherever you need to go and I’ll bring you right back.” He offered his arm. Rory looked at him and sighed, before taking his arm.

Across town, Andy was being served tea. By none other than Rory’s grandmother. He took in the modest home, the furniture old but well kept. He could see photos of Rory decorating the house. “You have a beautiful home Mrs. Thatcher.”

“Thank you, Mr. Barber.”

“Andy, please.”

“What can I help you with? My husband will be home soon.” Georgia Thatcher wringed her hands nervously.

“I wanted to know more about your granddaughter, Rory,” he said nonchalantly. He took a sip of the tea.

Georgia’s eyebrows rose in surprise. She knew he had stepped out with her granddaughter but had no idea it was serious. “My Rory?”

“Yes, I’ve taken her on a date, and she was a perfect lady. I assume she got her good manners from you,” he said, paying the woman a compliment.

“Well yes, but Mr. Bar-“

“Andy,” he corrected.

“Andy, I love my granddaughter and I don’t want any harm to come to her.”

“I understand. I want the same thing.” Just then the door opened, and David Thatcher walked in.

“Sweetheart, whose car is in…Mr. Barber.”

“Mr. Thatcher. Apologies for the intrusion.”

David Thatcher had known Andy Barber’s father and watch the younger man raise his family. Shame all that Andy had gone through. His father, a convicted murderer, then losing his girl and son. But Andy turned that around. He was a successful “businessman” if that’s the polite way to call it. And he was more than ok not to charge his granddaughter a higher fee when she wanted to open her bakery. “Mr. Barber, to what do we owe the pleasure?”

“I was inquiring about Rory. I would like to get to know her better. Date her.”

David hesitated slightly before saying, “That’s up to Rory to decide.”

Andy nodded but wanted the man to realize the seriousness of his visit. “I understand. But I wanted to make sure you understood that I have no desire to harm Rory or let any harm come to her. She is beautiful, smart and from what I have eaten, a wonderful baker. You know my history, David, and you know I wouldn’t risk her.”

David closed his eyes. Rory was their world after her parents died. But he couldn’t deny the opportunity of someone like Andrew Barber. “Andy, if she wants to date you, you have our blessing. But please, her life has been hard enough.”

“I understand. She told me about her parents. I’m sorry to hear about the car accident.”

“Car accident? I think you are mistaken,” Georgia replied before she could stop herself. She clamped a hand over her mouth.

“Rory told me it was an accident.” Andy frowned and saw the look shared by the couple. “Tell me.”

David sighed but gestured for the man to sit. He swallowed hard but started to explain. “Rory’s parents were in debt. They took out a loan from someone in exchange for Rory or payment. When they gave the money back, he didn’t accept. He wanted our grandbaby. They hid her with us, and they were killed in an intentional accident.”

Andy’s fury grew as the story was told. “Who?”

Rory got up as she did every morning and got ready for work. Paul has been nice the whole day before, driving her around, helping with carrying things. She got ready for the day and made her way to the door. She peeked out the window, nervous to see who was waiting but smiled when she saw Peter. She grabbed her things and went out. “Morning Peter.”

“Morning Rory. I came to walk you to work. Mr. Barber insisted.”

“Of course, he did. Thank you.” They chatted the whole way. As the first set of croissants come out of the oven, the alarm buzzed. Rory peeked her head out and saw Andy at the counter. “Mr. Barber, what a nice surprise.”

“Good morning sweetheart. I wanted to apologize for not being about to see you yesterday. Was Diskant helpful?”

“Very, perfect escort, Mr. Barber.”

“Good, well I was passing through to make sure everything was ok and for some breakfast. And its Andy, sweetheart.”

“I know,” Rory said blushing. “But you’re a customer.”

“I think I’m more than just a customer, sweetheart.” He leans over to place a sweet kiss on her lips. “Perfect start to the morning.”

Rory giggled. “What can I get you?”

“Coffee, croissant and a date for tonight?” He gave her a quirk of a smile that Rory knew would not allow her to say no.

“Andy…”

“Rory, I like you a lot. Trust me.”

She looks at him and smiles. “You could help me with prep.”

“Then dinner?”

Rory nodded. “I need to get a change of clothes.”

“I’ll send Nick to pick something for you.” Andy caressed her cheek. “Don’t go anywhere without Peter, Nick, Sam or Paul, ok sweetheart?”

Rory nodded and offered him a sweet smile. “Yes Andy.”

He kissed her sweetly. “Good girl. I’ll be by later. Have a good day.”

Andy made it to his office, enjoying the coffee and croissant, imagining Rory’s nimble fingers working the dough and he groaned, the image going straight to his groin. He shook his head of his dirty thoughts and rifled through the mail. Letters from clients, request from the neighborhood but one got his attention.

TO AURORA’S BEAU

Andy’s hands shook as he opened the note.

Better protect your sweetheart, Andy. Thank you for finding her for me. I’m coming to collect what’s mine. ~ LH

“FUCK!” Andy grabbed the glass on his desk and threw it against the wall. “Fowler!”

Nick ran in, observing the glass on the floor. “Boss?”

“I need your best men and I need you to come up with a security plan for Rory.” He handed the note to him. “He can’t have her,” he mumbled to himself.

“Who is LH? And what the fuck is his problem?”

“Someone who has been a problem for my entire life.” Any sat and messaged his temples.

“Ok well I’ll make some calls and get people stationed around. Natasha and Wanda can befriend her so they can keep a closer eyes.”

“Perfect.” Nick moved to start working. “Nick?” The man turned. “Thank you.”

“It’s no problem, Boss. Jensen said he would have her new security system up soon.” He left the room.

Andy closed the door and went to his safe. He spun the dial and opened the door, pulling out an old photo album. He thumbed through the pages until he landed on a photo of two boys. He stared at it. “Hello brother. Guess I’ll be seeing you soon.”

A man walked the streets of this town, taking in all the changes. He sighed, seeing the old stomping grounds. Fifteen years was a long time to be away. He lit a cigarette and inhale. What a sight. Lloyd Hansen was ready to claim what was his. He called his contact. “Did you get the girl?”

No sir. Barber interfered.

“Of course, he did. Head of a crime family and yet still a softie.” Lloyd laughed bitterly. “No matter. I’ll collect what’s mine soon enough.” He hung up and watched over the city.

“I’ll see you soon Andy.”

As promised, Andy showed up to help Rory prep. She got him an apron and had him mixing dough while she shaped cookies. “Rory, are you happy?”

“Of course, Andy.” She didn’t stop shaping. “Why do you ask?”

“Just wondering baby. You were scared the first time we met.”

“It wasn’t you. It was just what happened. You actually make me feel very safe.” She didn’t sense that Andy was now right behind her. She jumped slightly at his lips on her neck. His kisses were gently, pulling a soft moan from her.

“You are so precious to me, love.” Andy continued his gently assault, listening to her groan from the sensations. “I won’t push you, but you are mine.” He spun her around and lifted her onto the counter with a giggle. Rory opened her legs to let Andy slot in between them. He rubbed his nose against hers.

Rory could sense his uneasiness. “Andy, I don’t know what’s going on. I’m nothing special. I don’t know why you would want someone like me.”

“Don’t say that, Rory. Don’t ever say that.” He kissed her gently. “Be mine. Say that you’re mine.”

“I’m yours Andy. Please don’t hurt me.”

“Never my sweetheart. Let’s finish so I can take my girl out.” Rory smiled and they finished up. She changed into a simple white sundress and sandals. Andy changed out his shirt for a simple white button down and jeans. As she emerged from her office, Andy spun around to take her in. “Wow!”

Rory chewed her lip. “Do I look ok?”

Andy tugged her lip free. “Rory, you look beautiful. Can’t wait to show you off.” He took her hand and guided her out, looking around as he went.

“Where are we going?” she asked as they climbed into his car.

“To the carnival. Let’s have some set fun.”

Nick, Sam, Peter and Paul all followed the couple discreetly, allowing them some privacy. Rory had no idea of the security measures in place, but Andy knew he needed to come clean soon. As they approached the fun house, Rory looked at it apprehensively. “Andy?”

“It will be fine love.”

Rory nodded as they made their way inside. Out of the view of the public, Andy pulled Rory against a wall and pinned her with a hot, needy kiss. They made out for a few moments, Rory threading her fingers into Andy’s hair, Andy letting his one of hands cup the globes of her ass, the other holding the back of her neck, keeping her close to him. They finally break apart breathing hard. “You are intoxicating sweetheart.”

She smiled at him and moved farther into the maze. “Catch me, if you want another.” She giggled and started to run further in.

Andy grinned but lost sight of her. He could hear the ghost of her giggles floating around. He made it to the room of mirrors, trying to feel his way out.

“Andy.”

He could hear a whisper.

“Come find me.”

He smiled until he heard a laugh. One that he hadn’t heard in a very long time. Andy’s blood ran cold. He can still here her giggles, but it was faint. “Rory!” Andy frantically feels his way around the room trying to exit. “Aurora please! Where are you?”

You should keep a better eye on her Andrew, he hears. She’s more beautiful than I remember. The voice echoes in the room. Andy turns seeing the same face in the mirrors.

“Rory!” Andy makes it to the end.

“Boo!” Rory pops out at him, her face bright with laughter.

Andy pulls her and crushes her to his chest. He buries his nose into her neck, breathing in her sweet scent, trying to calm his heart.

“Andy?”

“Sorry love sorry. You just scared me by taking off like that.”

“I’m sorry. I just wanted to have fun with you.” Her lower lip began to wobble.

“No, don’t cry. Fuck, I’m sorry sweetheart.” He kissed her softly. “Let’s get out of here and get a drink ok?” She nodded and they headed out. Andy looked over his shoulder. He saw nothing except a piece of paper that he had missed earlier.

SOON

As soon as they were out of the maze, Andy alerted Nick about what happened while Rory was getting coffee. “He was here, somewhere.”

“Boss, I really think you should tell Rory. We are going to be putting in security and I’m assuming assigning her a guard. She has the right to know.”

“She’ll be frighten.”

“She’ll be on alert. It will allow us to protect her better. Andy,” Nick pleads, “she makes you better. I don’t want anything to happen to her.”

Andy sighs. “Ok, we’ll tell her tomorrow. Call Jensen. I want top of the line for her home and shop.” Nick nods as he types into his phone.

Rory comes back with the coffees, a look of surprise on her face. “Nick? What are you doing here?”

“Needed the boss’s approval, cupcake. Nothing to worry about. But I will need to come by in the morning for coffee. I’m also bring by a friend.”

“Guy friend of lady friend?” Rory smirked up at him.

“Cupcake, I don’t do sleepovers,” Nick replied with a laugh. “I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight Rory, Boss.”

Andy and Rory headed back to her apartment, Rory chewing her lip as she can feel the tension radiating from Andy. “Did I do something wrong?”

“What? No, of course not sweetheart.”

“Then why are you so mad?”

“We’ll talk as soon as we get to your place.” Andy pulled up and walked her in. He looked around. “You have a nice place.”

“Thank you.” Andy checked the room quickly for any devises. “Andy? You looking for something?”

“Ok sweetie, I have to tell you something.” He sat her down and took her hands. “I spoke to your grandparents. They told me about the circumstances of your parents’ accident.”

“The accident? They were hit by a drunk driver.” She looked at him questionably. “What are you saying?”

“Sweetheart, your parents had an agreement and when they didn’t pay they were, they were killed.”

“No. No Andy that’s not true.”

He cupped her cheek. “I’m sorry sweetheart. But the man they took a loan from is still trying to collect.”

She shook her head. “Collect? They didn’t have any money. There is nothing to collect.”

“There is one thing left that he wants. He wants to collect you.”

Lloyd Hansen enjoyed the sheer look of panic on Andy’s face as he watched from the control room of the fun house. He printed the stills from the video feed. Aurora. He licked his lips staring at her photo. He thought back, 15 years ago, when her parents made the deal with an unstoppable devil.

“Mr. Hansen, we just need to help our daughter. We will lose our home.”

Lloyd opened his eye and stared at the couple in front of him. “Why is that my problem?”

“We understand it’s not. But we just need the loan. I start my new job and I’ll give the money back to you as soon as possible.”

Lloyd stood up and looked out his window, seeing a young Aurora playing in the front. “She’s a cute little thing.”

Mr. Thatcher smiled tightly. “Thank you.”

Lloyd turned back to them. “I’ll give you the loan.” Aurora’s parents exhaled in relief. “For her.”

“What?”

Lloyd sat back down at his desk. “You heard me. I give you this money and in return I get your daughter, in let’s say, 15 years.”

“You can’t be serious?” Her mother protested. “She is just a little girl.”

“I’m dead serious. I mean I could take her in now since you won’t be able to put a roof over her head. I’m a wealthy man. I would still wait the years to allow her to grow up. But she is what I want in return. I’m not that much older than her now and in 15 years it won’t really make a difference.” Lloyd laughed. “So do we have a deal?”

What possessed Rory’s parent to accept the deal is something Lloyd would never understand. Not that he cared. Until they tried to get out of it. They returned the loan with interest within two months. They tried to say that their daughter’s innocence was not for sale. But it was too late. Lloyd Hansen was obsessed, and he always got what he wanted. And now he wanted Aurora.

Orders were quick. He sent his most trusted, efficient assassin to find and take care of the obstacle in his way. But when the Winter Soldier came knocking, the entire family had vanished. Took a year to track them down. They were outside of the town he had been run out of. They were almost to save haven.

To the town where his twin ruled.

He smirked at the thought. He made Andy pay for that already.

He thoughts now moved to Laurie. Sweet Laurie that Andy took from him back when the brothers had been close. Lloyd had been head-over-heels for Laurie until Andy swooped in and took her. Never mind that Laurie had been interested in Andy. Lloyd wanted her, so she was his. No matter. Running her off the road and killing her and their baby son was more than enough revenge. No one knew it was him and he comforted his twin, helping him with the funeral.

Of course, Lloyd wasn’t offered the same comfort when he almost killed a man for flirting with his girl. That fucker was eyeing the pretty girl Lloyd had been chatting up. So, Lloyd made sure that no woman would ever look at him again. Andy didn’t take too kindly on that and threw him out of town and hadn’t spoken to him since.

Now Lloyd was in the area looking for his promised. He hadn’t found her, but the Soldier found her parents. Car accidents were so easy to manipulate. But, with her parents gone, Aurora was still in the wind.

Until the day it became news that “businessman” Andrew Barber was seen stepping out with a beautiful young lady. And Lloyd saw an angel for the first time in 15 years. He found her, his obsession, his beloved.

His Aurora.

By the time Andy finished explaining why Lloyd Hansen was after her, Rory was a mess. She koala herself to Andy, tears streaming down her face as Andy spoke soothing words to her. “Sweetheart, please, try and relax. My men and I are going to do everything we can to protect you.”

“He killed my parents.”

“I know baby, I know. And we are going to make him pay for that.” Andy moved the hair from her face and kissed her forehead. “There is one more thing I need to tell you, ok?” She nodded and he took a breath. “I know Lloyd. Personally.”

“Personally?”

“Yeah.” Andy paused, unsure if he was ready to admit it. But he knew Nick was right. She needed to know.

“He’s my twin brother.”

Andy looked away from her in shame. His own flesh and blood responsible for causing so much pain to his sweetheart. But her next question took him by surprise.

“Why don’t you talk to him?” Rory chewed on her lip as she adjusted herself in his lap.

Andy pondered her question for a moment. “When I took over this town, I wanted to make it a peaceful safe place. The men who used to run it did so out of fear and intimidation. The people, they didn’t need that. So, I got friendly with people like your grandparents. I had their backing when I took over.”

“How did you take over?”

Andy gave her a small smile at her innocence. “I killed them sweetheart.”

Rory’s eyes widen. But she understood; this was Andy’s life. “That doesn’t explain Lloyd.”

He sighed. “Lloyd was with me up to a point. He stood by me when I decided to take over, he helped me organize the men and whatever else I needed help with. He was my second, my confidant, my best friend. After I lost Laurie, he was my support system. But, as our power grew, his ego and his temper grew with it. And one day it boiled over. He almost killed a man for flirting with his date. I kicked him out of the city, told him he wasn’t welcome here because I was trying to give our people peace. He told me I was dead to him, that it was my fault my family died and that I would regret it. I heard he set up shop in another state, but he was never a threat. At least, not until now.”

Rory went quiet as she absorbed his story. Andy just cradled her, keeping her warm as she came to terms with the new information. After a while, he heard, “Andy?”

“Yes sweetheart?”

“I’m sorry for bringing all this trouble.”

“Don’t be. This isn’t your fault. But can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Will you stay with me?” A look crossed Rory’s face. “I have a guest room right across from mine and a security system in place. We can take you to work and anywhere else you want to go but I just want to protect you the best way I know how.”

Rory cupped his bearded cheek with her small hand. He closed his eyes at the sensation, enjoying the warmth on his skin. His eyes flew open when he felt her soft lips on his. He quickly closed them as he surrendered to her kiss. She pulled away with a smile. “I guess I should pack a bag.”

#andy's hea #andy's shenanigans #andy barber #lloyd hansen #andy barber au #chris evans #chris evans fic #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans au #andy barber fiction #andy barber fanfic #lloyd hansen fic #andy barber smut #aurora #Andy barber vs Lloyd Hansen

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mh073099 · 2 years

Text

“I’ll Find You” - Captain Rex x Reader Part 1

Lovers to Enemies to Lovers with some spy razzle dazzle AU~

Masterlist Prologue

Part 1 - Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You

Warnings: Time Jump: Manipulation: Violence: Death: a hint of Angst: Mothers are their own warning, but yes mommy issues. Have you seen Tangled? Age gap could also be a thing, but I am thinking Rex is in his mid 20s while our is now turned 18 and while there is sexual tension and some touches, this is just the beginning mfs, I am a fan of time jumps.

Washington D.C., US - 01/01/2067 06:30

It’s cold. So cold I can’t feel my nose and the air hurts my lungs.

Still, I keep running. I look down to see Ace at my side, happy to frolic in the snow and ice. At least one of us is happy. Laps around the Washington monument have become a morning routine the past year. At least I knew about moving to D.C. this time. Over the past three years, I have been dragged all over the world. Trained, tortured and honed into the weapon I was born to be. But I don’t dwell on the past. Learn the lesson and move on. Stop thinking about it.

I finish up my last lap and make my way over to the woman reading a newspaper on a bench. She looks unbothered by the cold in her black peacoat, and no nonsense look on her face. As if the cold knew better then to bother her.

I sit down next to her, and she passes me a coffee.

“Good morning mother.” I say, taking sips of the bitter deliciousness.

She hums in response. We sit in silence for a moment. Ace’s head on my lap looking unbothered by our morning run. I close my eyes and tilt my head back, enjoying the silence.

“I need to make my dinner reservations before it’s too late,” my mother states.

Here we go.

“Do you know what time you’ll be having dinner?” I ask.

“I’m thinking about 07:30 tonight.” She sniffs into the cold. “I’m bringing Mark.”

“A Special friend?” I can’t help the cheek in my voice,

“A very special friend.” Mother Smirks into her coffee.

“Where will you and this special friend be dining tonight?” I look over at her.

She’s so regal. Poised. Dressed in all black, hair in a slick ponytail. Her Gray eyes are sharp, but the lines around them are soft. The faintest hint of a smile on her face is soft too. She looks over at me, and I feel 15 again. I want to trust her.

Don’t be fooled, I hear her voice in my head.

“Vermillion. I’m craving a steak.”

“And for dessert?”

She looks away before answering. “I don’t think I will have time for dessert.”

Red Flag. No Dessert means no extraction. I’ll have to get away on my own. This isn’t something I’ve done before. There is always an exit strategy.

“Grown-ups don’t always have time for dessert,” is left in the air. So many words between us are left in the air. They suffocate me.

“Dessert is overrated anyway,” I chuckle. Best not to dwell on things that will not change.

“But before I go to dinner, I need to go to the dry cleaners. Pick up 2 orders I’ve placed.”

She means I need to head to the armorer and pick up new gear. New Gear? No Extraction teams? What’s going on?

“How’s your arm?” She asks, ending the former conversation that has my focus. Instructions were clear. The execution of said instructions are also clear.

“It’s Fine. Little stiff from the cold,” I reply rolling my shoulder. The twinge reminds me of my 18th ‘birthday gift’.

“Next time, maybe you won’t be so clumsy,” she says as she gets up.

Right. Clumsy. That’s what that was.

“I hope you enjoy dinner!” I call out to the women, picking up the newspaper she let on the bench.

“So do I!” She calls back without looking.

She never looks back.

Washington D.C. – 01/01/2067 19:56

The bar is loud. Pulsing to a beat I don’t care about, with bodies bumping and humping everywhere. The air is sticky with the sugary sent of alcohol and the floor wet with substances I have no interest in discovering.

Perfect.

I move deeper into the bar, losing the long coat, throwing it across a passing chair. I let my hair down and move to the dance floor. I let myself get lost in the bodies, disappear into the heat of the animals I have now become apart of. Swaying and twirling, my hips moving this way and that. The adrenaline pumping through my veins puts a thin veil of sweat over my skin. To any on looker, I’m just a girl cutting loose. And I am, I take a brief second to enjoy myself.

But only for a second. As I move my hips to the deep base line, I twirl and keep watch of my exits. Looking for whoever might follow. I left the scene clean. There were no hiccups, dinner went as planned. But it was always better to stay vigilant. Always assume the worst.

To blend in, you must believe the story you are selling, yourself. So I do just that. I let it all go. And I dance.

Washington D.C. 01/01/2067 09:00

I make my way back to my apartment, thinking of my instructions while Ace walks paces in front of me.

‘I need to make dinner reservations before it’s too late.’ – She means I have a new mark with a quick deadline. Planning will be minimal, and location may not be private. Which means possible interference.

‘I’m thinking 07:30’ - obviously, meet the mark at 07:30. The sniff was her sign that this had a small window of opportunity. Less that 10 minutes.

Vermillion was the closest restaurant to the target. That’s where I need to be near before receiving exact coordinates to my mark.

‘Craving steak’ - this meant mark wouldn’t make it out of this dinner alive.

This would be my 5th time killing for the cause. Sleep isn’t as easy as it used to be. This is what I was trained to do. Mother would not accept failure. My shoulder twinged in reminder of the last time I failed. When your own mother shoots you, because you fail to kill someone things are put into perspective fairly quickly. It was a reminder that I do not live in a perfect world that the republic would like us to believe.

I’m luckier than some. Mother shooting me was a lesson I had to learn, right?

Wrong.

It could be worse.

It could be him.

I resolve myself from my thoughts.

Only through victory are my chains broken. Then I shall be free.

I am breaking chains. That’s all this is.

Washington D.C. 01/01/2067 21:02

For a little over an hour, I danced by myself and who ever I was around. It wasn’t until I was craving water and heading to the bar that I realized I could feel eyes on me. I looked and my eyes met his.

Handsome was my first thought.

Washington D.C. 01/01/2067 14:22

After getting to my apartment, I started my prep. My go bag was secured, and Ace was made ready if I needed a quick escape and he had to meet me somewhere. When we made our move to D.C. permanent, I trained him to meet at the monument if he hears a bell, I can play by pressing a button on my cell. Smartest dog I have ever met that one. After showering, cleaning and prepping, I looked around.

I always felt detached when dinner plans were made. I still haven’t gotten used to living alone. The only thing that makes this place home is Ace.

Not wanting to linger, I made my way to the dry cleaners of Elm and Main. A front for a private armory for the cause. Supplied by smugglers and ran by the ugliest women I have ever met. Talzin was mean and cold. But she could fix anything and supply you with everything. It was like magic. Dark magic, really.

Walking in, a young bald woman behind the counter looks up at me with a blank face.

“I have a pickup for 2 orders.” I say nonchalant, picking up a sweet from the bowl on the dusty counter.

“Name?” the woman’s voice is raspy, like she’s smoked 5 packs a day and didn’t know how to quit.

“I hardly think that’s necessary. I frequent this establishment often enough. I’d like to speak with management please.” I huff. My face is straight, by my eyes scream try me.

Her brow narrows. “One moment please,” and she disappears into the back.

I hear the door lock behind me, ultra-aware of the fact that there’s now a man in front of the door. A rather large man in fact. His imposing figure doesn’t bother me as much as it used to. His nickname Savage was earned, my mother had told me. I didn’t ask for details on how. Thankfully, she never gave them. Just one of those things you get used to, I guess.

“Let her through Ventress,” I hear faintly from the back. Then the bald woman with dead eyes appears again, through the currents that lead into the back.

“You may-“She starts, but I was already moving past her, and into a hallway. I reach the end that leads to stairs down into a basement where the voice came from. I keep going until I reach the bottom and come out into the open room. It looks like speak easy, with Dark Maroon walls, and emerald, green flooring. But instead of a bar of alcohol lining the walls, its artillery. Firearms of many shapes and sizes: grenades, blades, rockets and mortars. On the other side of the room, It looks like a tailer. Suits and dresses, made of bulletproof fabric. Shoes with false bottoms and necklaces that record everything. Ignoring the setting, it’s all pretty cool one has to admit.

“Your orders are there on the shelf girl.” Talzin rasps from a desk behind the glass firearm bar. “You have an outfit, two standard Government Issue Glock .19s, a poisoned blade, a dress and a coat with a built-in vest. Invisible to the naked eye. All more than what asset like you deserves.”

“How do you know the dress will fit.” I snark back as I reach for the bags on the counter closest to me.

“It always fits.” She glares at me. Even from afar and sitting down it feels like she is looking down at me. “You also a little something extra in there.”

“For me? Talzin, you shouldn’t have.”

“I didn’t.”

“You’re too sweet. Have a wonderful day you old goat.”

“I hope you die, menace.”

I didn’t linger there either. With a nod out to savage on my way out the door, I head home to get ready.

Washington D.C. 01/01/2067 21:03

Leaning against the counter further down the bar, He stared at me. I watched his eyes rake over me and watched him watch me do the same. He was tall. Thick thighs covered by black slacks. Strong shoulders and a chest covered by a white button up just trying to hang on for dear life. Clean jaw line, full lips. Dirty blonde curls, and the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen.

I pushed the thought away but held my ground and looked him in the eye. Men were easy. Act sweeter than honey, and they land on that flower quick like a bee. I put on the mask of innocent trouble, winked and turned away. I ordered some water, and while waiting to be served, I felt a presence at my back. The warmth sent chills through my body.

“Only one reason a girl dances like that,” is whispered in my ear, the low voice rumbles from his chest. I feel like the bee.

I turn and look up through my lashes. He looks down at me with a small smirk on his lips.

Oh, how I would love to wipe that smirk off those lips.

“And what reason is that?” comes out much softer and more breathless than I meant it to.

“You’re losing yourself, to run away from something,” He lowers his chin to look me more in the eye.

“What are you, a shrink” I deadpan with a raised eyebrow, and make a face.

His laughter flows from him like oozing lava. “You’re too young to be dancing like that. You have all the opportunities in the world open for you.”

If only you knew.

“Compared to what, old man?” I challenge with a smirk and turn to reach for my water. My comment earns me another chuckle. I relish the sound as I sip from the tiny black straw.

“Ouch. I’m not that old, just old enough.”

“Old enough to be a prude it sounds like.” I stir my straw.

“Never been described as a prude before.”

“Shocking.”

“What’s your name, princess?”

Looking up at his question, I realize he’s gotten incredibly close. Practically caged in at the bar. All my instincts scream at me to get out of this conversation and get the upper hand. The secret voice in my head tells me I don’t want to be anywhere else.

“You think you’ve earned my name?” I cock my head at him.

“I asked nicely, didn’t I?” he cocks his head opposite of me. He’s enjoying this. The smile, the fire in his eyes. He almost looks ready to devour me.

He’s toying with you.

“I didn’t hear a please in there, old man,” earns me another chuckle.

“How about this, we exchange information. That way we both are gaining something from it. I will give you my name, if you’ll give me yours.”

“I don’t know, I kind of liked how princess rolled off your tongue.”

“I’m sure you did.”

Neither of us step down from this stalemate. Our Eyes are locked, and the rest of the bar just falls away for a moment. Dangerous in my unchosen profession. And yet, I could die happy with that warmth staring back at me if that’s what were to happen.

He breaks the tension by stepping back and offers his hand. “I’m Rex.”

“Princess,” I wink while taking his hand. My cheekiness earns me another chuckle. My toes curl at the low sound.

“Ok princess. Would you like to dance?” He asks with a bright smile.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Washington D.C. 01/01/2067 19:10

Wearing a black cocktail dress and heels that were provided under the Bulletproof jacket, I sat on a bench outside some steak restraint, and listened to the soft snow fall, with my face up towards the sky.

The calm before the storm.

PING.

I looked down at my phone. One new Notification.

Washington D.C. 01/01/2067 21:40

Dancing with him felt like playing with fire.

“Rex” softly leaving my lips as he trailed kisses across my shoulder felt like a prayer.

“Princess” being whispered into my ears felt like God decided to answer.

My head said it was time to leave. Forget the man with eyes made of honey, and leave.

My Heart said stay, and so did his hands. He gripped my hips just so and oh-

Washington D.C. 01/01/2067 19:28

I made my way into the Hotel, retrieving a room key from a pot plant in the corner of a hallway on the second floor.

I made my way to the 6th floor.

Room 612.

I knock.

Washington D.C. 01/01/2067 21:59

We’ve been dancing so long that my feet start to hurt. I don’t want to stop. His arms around me make me feel safe. The grip of his fingers on my hips, moving them against his to the beat. He’s spun me and twirled me and let his fingers trail across my shoulders and arms, down my sides and just barely over my thighs more times than I can count. I let my hands wander just as much. His chest is broad and firm, solid and sturdy. His hands dwarf mine and consume them. His thighs are large, and oh so delicious. I must keep my thoughts on what I would do on those thighs at bay, lest I get more than I bargained for.

This is for appearances. An alibi. I’m trying to lie to myself that I’m not actually enjoying his warm body moving against mine. When did everything I do, start becoming I lie I have to tell myself?

Washington D.C. 01/01/2067 19:29

Mark answers the door. He’s expecting a high-end escort and thinks nothing of the glint in my eye.

At least I do look expensive.

The door closes behind us.

Washington D.C. 01/01/2067 22:01

His lips ghost the shell of my ear and I get goosebumps. I want to feel those lips outside of ghost stories that haunt the edges of my existence.

“Let’s get you something to drink, princess,” he purrs, and grabs my hand. I am helpless and follow.

It’s time for me to go. Stay. I have to be up early. Don’t go. “Another water?” he turns to me as we arrive at the crowded bar.

“Yes please.” I reply. Then think for a second. “How did you know it was water?”

“Princess, you barely look old enough to be in here, let alone drink.” His smile is soft.

“Why are you wasting your time with a child then, hmm?” I challenge with a dip in my brow.

His smile softens, if that were even possible. “You don’t seem like you’ve been a child for a very long time now.” If only I could count how many times I have gotten lost in his eyes tonight. “And I’m not that old.” He adds with a huff.

A giggle escapes me before I can stop it. “How old are you?”

“24. And you?”

“18.” I said squarely. His eyebrows rise.

“Wow, you are young.” He says, his eyes harden a tad bit and I am suddenly filled with insecurity I am not used to.

“And?” comes out my mouth, low and irritated.

“And? And nothing. You’re legal. And besides, we’re just friends.” He pokes the bear. His smirk irritates me more by the second. All that I was feeling has been channeled into annoyance. I can work with this. This can give me the upper hand.

“Oh? Friends, are we?” I challenge back.

“Oh, I hope so.”

Washington D.C. 01/01/2067 19:30

He asks my name, and I give him a fake. Mark pretends it’s real and gives me his real name. I don’t care though. He’s still going to be Mark to me. Another Lie I have to tell myself.

He turns his back heading to the bar cart.

Sorry Mark.

Walking away almost felt too easy.

Washington D.C. 01/01/2067 22:03

We stand there, leaning against the bar, just drinking each other in. Drinks on the counter forgot.

Friends get hurt. I know. Fuck being friends. I know. Can’t even give him my real name. I know. I could drown in those eyes. I know.

Love at first sight? It doesn’t exist.

At that, I hear myself say “Well Rex, It’s past this princess’s bedtime. See you around?”

With a raised eyebrow and a soft smile, he looks down at me. I detect disappointment and relief simultaneously as his shoulders relax but his jaw clenches. “Ok princess,” is more soothing than it should be. He grabs my hand, and brings it to his lips.

“How can I find you again?” comes out of my mouth before I can even stop it.

He chuckles, low and deep, more of a rumble than a chuckle, his fingers softly rubbing against my knuckles as he lowers my hand, still in his.

“You won’t.” And with that, he lets go, turns and walks away.

And I? I am left reeling from whatever the fuck just happened. A thousand emotions are running through me and i-

PING.

I look at my phone.

One New Text Message from: Mother

Need to talk. Now.

Oh. I knew it was too easy.

-----

-M.F.

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belphegor1982 · 2 years

Text

“The night before we got married, I was so nervous. I came here to see Mr. Miyagi. He sat me down, poured me a cup of tea... and some sake. And we talked about you.”

Amanda’s last evening as a bachelorette with her family (mom, cousin, aunts and uncle) gets a little derailed by nerves. Sometimes you just need some perspective to help you sort everything out.

I’ve had season 5 of Cobra Kai doing cartwheels in my head and stuff to my heart for a month and a half (ish) now, in particular episodes 5, 6 and 10. What Amanda says in 5.06 about her conversation with Mr Miyagi made me wish we could have seen that kind of scene in the show. (and cry. It made me cry, big time.)

So I wrote it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

___________

In the Light of Tea and Sake

Winnetka, San Fernando Valley, 1999

“Well, I think that’s it.”

“That’s it? Really?”

“Yep. Everything on the list.”

Daniel took a sip from his espresso. How he could keep downing coffee at 6PM and still sleep like a log afterward had always baffled Amanda. Especially since he wasn’t exactly short on energy to begin with.

“Wow.”

Amanda took the paper, sliding it closer on the table. The ‘list’ in question was a little chaotic and largely symbolic anyway, but it was something, seeing all those checked boxes in front of various items like Pick up dress from the dry cleaner, Send RSVPs, or Order extra Lambrusco. They weren’t even in the correct chronological order, but every single one was crossed out.

For some reason her heartbeat was very loud in her chest, and she wasn’t sure all of it could be chalked up to excitement.

“We’re getting married,” she said softly, almost to herself.

Daniel flashed her a grin.

“Well yeah, that was the idea.”

“No, I mean… married.”

“That’s… a thing that can happen when two people decide they want to spend the rest of their lives together. You’re not going Runaway Bride on me now, are ya?”

A smile slipped past the tension in Amanda’s chest.

“And miss on the buffet afterward? Are you kidding?”

She was rewarded by a laugh and a cheeky grin, followed by an exaggerated waggle of eyebrows which Daniel was bound to know looked both ridiculous and charming.

Some of the weird tension inside her eased.

God, she loved that man so much.

At least that had never been in question.

“You’re so much prettier than Julia Roberts, anyway,” he said loyally, before adding, “Besides, you know the only thing that’ll be different tomorrow night is that we’re gonna be wearing a ring, right here.” He pointed at his left ring finger. “The ceremony’s just an excuse to get everyone we love together for once. Once that’s out of the way we’ll all stuff ourselves with great food, and dance, and we’ll have a great time. Oh, that reminds me – give me the list, I just thought of something –”

Food, dance, and all their loved ones in one place. Amanda couldn’t help but smile at the mental picture. Sure, when you put it that way, it all sounded so simple. Daniel had a gift for making complicated things sound simple, or at least straightforward.

But this shouldn’t be complicated, should it?

Except… Maybe it should. It was one of the biggest decisions of her life, after all, right up there with deciding to swap Ohio State for UCLA almost at the last minute and move halfway across the country. Talk about a leap of faith. At least she’d had Aunt Pat, and Jessica on holidays sometimes.

So. Maybe a few jitters were only natural.

She put her chin in her hand, letting her shoulders sag, and gazed at the man seated near her at their kitchen table. He was scribbling his last-minute entry on their list with the earnestness he usually reserved for tasks like writing letters or trimming bonsais. Things he loved doing.

Amanda smiled softly into her palm, almost despite herself.

“What are you adding?”

“Nothin’ important, just a couple of ideas for the music. You know, in case the DJ goes through his entire playlist and decides to take requests.”

“It’s our wedding, babe,” she pointed out. “I’m pretty sure we’ll be allowed a few requests. You know, besides the first song.” She paused. “Although I might have to bribe the guy with cake to get him to play ‘Always’ at some point. Preferably around 11PM when we’re all a little wasted on champagne and I can get you to myself for a slow dance.”

Daniel’s grin came back full force. “Way ahead of you.”

It was the second of the songs he’d added to their Things To Do Before The Wedding list, the first being ‘Desperado’, because he loved the 70s and 80s soft rock he’d grown up with. Besides the Eagles and Bon Jovi, the rest of the songs was pretty eclectic. Amanda was fairly sure he’d thrown in ‘Tutti Frutti’ specifically for his mom to lindy hop to.

With him, probably.

Daniel LaRusso was something of a momma’s boy (the logical result of having been a family of two for so long), a trait which against all odds Amanda found charming. If only Lucille’s attitude toward her didn’t set her future daughter-in-law’s teeth on edge…

Good thing Daniel’s close family didn’t stop at his mother.

Sometimes it felt just a little odd that he and the closest thing he had to another parent essentially called each other “Mister” all the time, like a teacher and his student, but over the years Amanda had learned to hear the terms of endearment behind the honorifics.

When she looked up from the list she met Daniel’s eyes, warm and a little bit wistful.

“Still set for your girls’ night, then?”

“It’s more of a games night, really,” she pointed out. “Besides, my uncle Brian will be there too, so I don’t know if you can really call it a girls’ night. But yes, I’d better get going. Aunt Pat likes everybody to be punctual for big dinners and I’ll be glad to see Jessie again. And mom,” she added as an afterthought, feeling vaguely guilty that it had to be a late addition.

“Okay. Well, enjoy your last night as a bachelorette.”

“Aren’t you gonna tell me to not do anything you wouldn’t do?”

Daniel snorted.

“I think we both know the chances of that are pretty slim.”

“Oh, please. I know you’re a bit impulsive, but surely you couldn’t be that reckless as a kid, right?”

“That depends on where you rank ‘Blowing all my savings on a last-minute passport and round trip to Okinawa’ on your scale of reckless things people can do.”

“Pretty damn reckless, yeah. But in context it was also incredibly sweet, so as far as I’m concerned it doesn’t make the scale.” She leaned in to kiss him, lingering just a bit, hoping he wouldn’t feel just how fast her heart thumped an erratic rhythm against her ribcage. “I’ll see you at the church tomorrow, then.”

“Can’t wait,” said Daniel softly, all shining eyes and earnestness, with no trace of the nerves she realised with a flash of guilt she’d been trying to squash for a while.

No doubt there, no uncertainty. He was one hundred percent committed to marrying her and, like he said, spending the rest of his life with her – like his parents probably would have if his father hadn’t died way too soon.

Amanda had made her choice, wanted that, too, so… Why was she so goddamn nervous?

She turned up the volume on the radio in the car to drown out the question, and resolutely avoided glancing back at the cover bag that contained her dress for the entire drive to Aunt Pat’s Chatsworth house.

* * *

The door opened on Aunt Pat’s beaming smile.

“Heads up, folks, here comes the bride!”

Amanda barely had the time to smile back and say hi before she was engulfed in a warm hug and plied with questions about how she was keeping, and was she excited for tomorrow, and her well-being in general. Aunt Pat was a veritable whirlwind, her love as generous as it was relentless, and in the blink of an eye Amanda was whisked upstairs, hugged welcome several times, and seated on the couch between her mom and her Uncle Brian.

“So good to see you, honey.”

“How are you doing, Mandy?”

God, she’d missed them. But she hadn’t missed being the last guest who inevitably took the spotlight and got mobbed.

Amanda found herself calling on everything she and Daniel had had to learn when they’d started selling cars to and rubbing elbows with North Hollywood royalty in order to mask the anxiety churning dully in her stomach.

(Those people could smell impostor syndrome a mile away, like sharks with blood in the water. You needed the right smile, the right poise, and a self-confidence that could shatter a rock. She’d gotten surprisingly good at it. Daniel was still working out some kinks.)

“Oh, well I –”

“Don’t crowd the poor girl,” exclaimed Aunt Maggie from the staircase. Presumably she’d been the one to take Amanda’s overnight bag and dress upstairs to what had been Jessica’s room once. “Canapés, sweetie? Brian made them specially for you.”

“I know you like ‘em,” Uncle Brian chimed in with fake bashfulness and real pride, handing her the plate.

Amanda picked one – a spinach and goat cheese pastry, nice – and grinned. “Thanks.”

“He’s not the fancy caterer you picked for the wedding reception, but nothing can beat your uncle’s cooking, right?”

“Mom,” said Jessica from the armchair she’d sat in after welcoming Amanda with a brief hug like everyone else, “please. You promised you wouldn’t say anything more about the catering. I’m sure it’ll be great,” she added with a smile in Amanda’s direction. The warmth of it eased a knot that had just started to tense in Amanda’s shoulders.

Aunt Maggie sighed the heavy sigh of the put-upon, but thankfully didn’t protest.

“So, Jessie,” said Amanda swiftly, before more questions or remarks about her upcoming wedding, “how’s Nick? And Holly and Paige?”

“They’re fine,” Jessica said, helping herself to more appetisers. “Nick’s minding the girls tonight.” She laughed. “They’re all psyched up about tomorrow, but I don’t know how much of that is getting to sleep in a hotel or the prospect of hurling flower petals at people tomorrow. We’re gonna have a couple of excited little gremlins on our hands until they serve the cake,” she added with transparent fondness.

Amanda shook her head with a snort. “Sorry about that. If I’d known asking them to be flower girls would create monsters…”

“Don’t worry, they love you and Daniel to pieces. They’ll keep their mischief down to tame levels for your sakes.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Amanda raised the glass of white wine Aunt Pat had just put in her hand and toasted them both.

There was a scoff to her right.

“What, Mom?”

“Nothing, darling, just… I still don’t understand why you’d want to put yourself through all this hassle. I understand wanting a big family reunion, but you don’t need a wedding for that. Do you know just how many marriages end in a divorce these days?”

Amanda had to force herself to take a second to breathe – in through the nose, out through the mouth, Mr. Miyagi’s voice echoing in her head the way it did when she did her yoga while he and Daniel did katas – and attempted to smile. The result felt more strained than what she aimed at. She must really be off tonight; usually her diplomacy game was much better than that.

“Four point one for every thousand Americans1, I know, Mom. You told me. Several times.” At least she still knew the exact amount of warning needed in her tone to make her mother know she was toeing the limits. “But it was my choice. Our choice.”

For a second, Joanne appeared to have a ready argument on her tongue. Fortunately, it was the moment Aunt Pat chose to clap her hands and ask her to help her set the table.

“Oh, and Brian made buckeyes2 for dessert,” she added with a wink at Amanda and Jessica.

The two cousins looked at each other.

“Okay, how many of those do you think can we eat before we realise we no longer fit into our dresses?”

Jessica laughed. “I don’t know, but I like a challenge. Come on, let’s find out.”

Amanda popped one last canapé into her mouth and rose from the couch, taking Jessica’s arm as they went.

* * *

The dinner was excellent.

It was also, at times, endless.

At her best, Amanda cultivated patience like a well-kept garden. Being patient helped when co-running a business. It also helped smooth things out in her personal life. Her couple was a partnership of equals, well balanced, but she’d known from the start her temper was more even than Daniel’s. Each knew to take their turn at patience when the other needed some, though.

So it wasn’t like a few derogatory comments on her life choices and management style were enough to rile her up – not usually, and especially when scattered among casual kindnesses and funny anecdotes. Mrs LaRusso could dish worse than that on a good day. But the timing sucked.

Why couldn’t she seem to stop feeling so worried already?

“Joanne,” said Aunt Pat in a warning tone while they were all helping themselves to dessert, “leave the girl alone. That’s the second time she makes that face, and I don’t like that face.”

Amanda was tempted to point out that, as an almost twenty-nine-year-old with a thriving career, she was more of a woman than a girl, but at this point any kind of lifebuoy was welcome.

“I’m just saying,” said Joanne in a voice Amanda was annoyed seemed to sound much more reasonable than her own, “Daniel’s a good man and I’m sure you’ll be very happy together. It’s the shackling up I don’t get. Everything you own, everything you earn, you’ll have to share – you’ll completely lose your independence. And what if it doesn’t work out in the end?”

“Then you get to tell me ‘I told you so’,” Amanda retorted. The sarcasm came out sharper than she intended. She had to take a second to centre herself. “Look, Mom, can we drop the subject already? I just wanted a nice family dinner, not a re-enactment of the Salem trials.”

Her mother rolled her eyes, but softened.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I just want what’s best for you.”

Oh, for…

“So do I, and I’ve been old enough to know what I want for some time now.” Amanda paused as the realisation hit her. “And right now, I think… I think I want to go home.”

There was a shocked silence.

“Oh, sweetie,” said Aunt Pat, startled, “you’re not staying for game night?”

“Sorry, Aunt Pat, not tonight. I’m turning in early. If it’s okay with you I’ll be back here at 9 to get dressed, just after the hairdresser appointment. You know, if the dress still fits.”

The quip fell slightly flat. Her mother looked crestfallen.

“Amanda, honey, I swear I won’t say a single –”

Amanda waved a hand, already feeling calmer for her decision to not stay after all.

“I’m not storming off in a huff, Mom, don’t worry. I just… need my own bed right now. I’ll see you guys tomorrow, okay?”

To her relief, she was answered by murmurs of assent and sympathetic noises.

One of the perks of being a bride-to-be was that many people expected you to be nervous and irrational, and were more willing than usual to let it go. In hindsight, maybe she should’ve banked on that much earlier instead of doubling down on trying at all costs to come across as chill, efficient and cheerful to everyone but Daniel.

She bid everyone good night, kissed her mother on the cheek (getting an apology hug she’d probably appreciate better tomorrow), and picked up her handbag.

“Sorry about your mom,” said Jessica softly when they were both at the door. “And mine. And Dad. Wow, this dinner was kinda terrible, huh.”

“We’ve had better, yeah,” Amanda conceded with a small smile. “I really would have enjoyed the sleepover, though. Sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry, we can always take a rain check. I’m sure Daniel won’t mind if I borrow my cousin for a girls’ night out one of these days.” She paused, and rubbed her hand along Amanda’s arm. “Sure you’re gonna be okay?”

“I’ll be fine, Jessie. Thanks. I’m just a little beat right now.”

Jessica peered at her for a few seconds without saying anything, then pulled her into a hug Amanda returned gladly.

When they parted her heart was lighter, though it still beat uncomfortably loud in her throat.

“All right, go get some rest. I’ll save you some buckeyes.”

“And that is why you’re my favourite cousin,” said Amanda with a laugh. Jessica grinned.

“Yeah, I know. See you tomorrow morning, then.”

“Bye, Jessie.”

The lull had done Amanda good. By the time she was behind the wheel of her car, fishing her cell phone from her handbag to send Daniel a text, the tension that had kept building during the dinner was waning a bit. She still felt on edge though, like electricity running just under her skin.

She did want to go home, change into her most comfy pyjamas, and snuggle her boyfriend as if tomorrow weren’t anything special. Maybe pop Ghostbusters into the VCR. They’d watched it so many times over the years the tape was starting to get creases in some places.

But the state she was in right now… Daniel was a perceptive guy. What if he picked up on her nervousness and jumped to the wrong conclusion? Jitters weren’t cold feet, but it was bad, right? Or at least a bad sign?

Amanda flipped her phone closed, buckled her seatbelt… and threw her head back in frustration, hitting the headrest. Ugh. If that little voice in her head could just shut up—

She didn’t send the text, figuring she could surprise her boyfriend – fiancé – and drove off.

She was coming up to Sherman Way when she spotted the bridge over the Browns Canyon Wash in the near distance. Before she knew it, she was turning west toward Canoga Park.

This is probably a bad idea, she thought, but she kept driving.

* * *

Amanda knocked once, then twice, softly enough for plausible deniability that someone was on the threshold at all. The door opened before she could decide whether to stay or leave discreetly while it was still polite.

Mr. Miyagi’s eyebrows went up.

“Amanda-san?”

“Good evening, Mr. Miyagi,” she said, and did a hasty bow after belatedly realising she’d forgotten. “Sorry to bother you at this hour, I just… I…”

He waited until she failed to finish her sentence, then asked with a frown, “Thought you go to family tonight. Everything all right?”

Amanda gave a shaky laugh. “Yes. Well, no. Well, yes, it’s just… This is so dumb. I’m sorry, I’ll—”

“Amanda-san.” His voice was gentler than usual, less gruff. “Want some tea?”

She breathed out, let her tense shoulders sag a little.

“Tea would be lovely, thank you.”

Mr. Miyagi silently stepped aside to let her in.

Amanda went to sit on her knees in front of the low table, her hands in her lap. It felt strange, being there without Daniel. Mr. Miyagi had never made her feel unwelcome, even for a second, but the bond between those two was so obvious it was almost tangible, a living, breathing thing. They shared so many private jokes, and memories, and overall a kind of shorthand to each other that it might have made Amanda feel left out very easily.

She never did.

All it took was Daniel’s voice pulling her back from the sidelines, or Mr. Miyagi’s eyes twinkling as he shared a quiet smile with her, to remind Amanda that there was a place there with them that was just for her.

But she’d never been on her own there before, let alone at ten in the evening.

Mr. Miyagi soon came back with a tray loaded with a steaming teapot and two round cups. Amanda made sure to hold hers correctly, despite the impulse to wrap her fingers around it.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. Mr. Miyagi gave a short nod and sat down, too.

The tea was a good quality matcha, foamy and sweet, the perfect temperature when Amanda dipped her lips into it.

Her evening hadn’t been quiet. It had been frustrating at times, sure, but also full of love and laughter, a familiar brand of chaos as various conversations collided across the dinner table. As she closed her eyes to savour the silence, the heat of the cup, and the flavour of the tea, some of the tension that had made her heartbeat loud and her chest tight seemed to drain away.

The rest of that tension remained in place, but its coils were slightly less taut now.

The little house felt as it always did, cosy and warm despite the early October night outside flirting with the lower fifties. The light-coloured wood walls helped. So did the paper lamps, the rug, and the decorations here and there, testament to a life rich enough to contain several.

A few items stuck out, though. There was a navy blue suit on a coat-hanger, the pants neatly folded over the lower bar. It was flanked with another hanger, over which a white shirt was draped. Hanging around the hook of the hanger was a silk tie with a blue and white flower motif.

The shirt’s wide lapels were a few years out of date, but the ensemble fit together surprisingly well. And retro was in style, anyway.

Amanda smiled.

“Mr. Miyagi, you’re going to look fabulous tomorrow.”

“Good suit. Do all work.” He took a sip from his cup and glanced at her. “Good thing about wedding: everyone look at bride, nobody else. So Miyagi can wear flashy suit, no problem.”

Amanda suppressed the urge to shift uncomfortably.

“Hopefully they’ll be also looking at Daniel. I mean, he’s the groom. And his suit is pretty neat, too.”

“Hai. And Daniel-san look at you whole time.”

This time Amanda’s smile had a touch of heat in her cheeks. He probably would stare a little, at that.

Quiet fell again, so unobtrusively Amanda started when Mr. Miyagi asked, “So. What wrong?”

Amanda drank from her matcha again and gently laid the cup on the table.

“Mr. Miyagi, can I… can I ask you a question?”

Mr. Miyagi gave her a nod.

“Have you ever been nervous, even though there was absolutely no logical reason to be nervous?”

“Miyagi nervous plenty of time,” he said, glancing at her curiously. “Sometimes true reason hidden, only see later. Why?”

“I’ve been feeling… a little weird about tomorrow, all evening. Well, make that all week, now I think of it. And now I’m – I think I’m a bit scared?”

The last word surprised her even as she said it. She had to take a second to think, a little taken aback.

“Which is completely absurd,” she continued with a wave of her hand as though it might hide how self-conscious the admission made her feel. “I mean… It’s a wedding, not some high noon duel. I love Daniel and he loves me – we’ve been living together for four years, for God’s sake. I’m not having second thoughts, I’m just…”

Like earlier, Mr. Miyagi waited patiently until it became clear Amanda would not finish her sentence.

“Nothing wrong with nerves before big day. Natural.”

“I know, but… Look, we’re in 1999. People can choose to not get married and it’s not a big deal, so getting married shouldn’t be such a big deal, either. I mean, my mom just plain told me she didn’t get why I wanted a wedding. She thinks it’s old-fashioned.”

“And father?” asked Mr. Miyagi, pouring a second helping of tea into both their cups.

Amanda downed some of her matcha, licked the foam from her lips, and lowered her eyes.

“I didn’t invite him. We don’t have a good relationship.”

And if that wasn’t a spectacular understatement.

At the beginning, when they were drafting the list of guests, she’d hesitated. Daniel had said, Take your time, honey. It’s your call. I know things are complicated between the two of you. Which was sweet of him, because all he’d had to work from were the bare bones: that Ted Steiner had walked out on his family during Amanda’s last year of high school, that he lived in Boston now, and that neither Amanda nor her mother talked to him more often than a few times a year. Daniel hadn’t pried, hadn’t prodded at sore spots and scar tissue; he had taken what she’d been willing to give and not demanded anything more. Amanda had been ridiculously thankful for it.

Mr. Miyagi didn’t pry, either, nor offer platitudes. He was just there, giving silent support, with neither judgement nor impatience.

Amanda breathed out.

“My dad had an affair when I was a teenager. My mom caught him cheating and… I guess it was the last straw for their marriage. They got a divorce pretty soon after that.”

Mr. Miyagi shook his head ruefully, but made no comment.

“So… maybe that’s part of why I’m scared, you know. I do remember them being happy together, and I think even when that stopped they put up a convincing front for my sake, but… I’m not starting out this marriage thing with the best of examples, you know?

“I mean… Daniel’s parents really loved each other. I don’t really get on with his mom enough to have hearts-to-hearts with her about it, but Daniel’s a big fan of scrapbooks and photo albums and I’ve seen their faces when they look at his dad’s pictures. Perhaps he could have ended up having an affair, or doing something that’d make his family disappointed for some reason, but they’ll never know. They’ll always have these memories of him being a good husband, and a good dad, and that’s all they get to keep, because he’s dead. Meanwhile, my dad lives in Massachusetts with a woman sixteen years younger and he never remembers my birthday. And he blows me off when I call him at ‘inconvenient times’.”

Amanda downed her tea in one go, suddenly wishing for something a lot stronger.

“I didn’t mean to unload on you,” she said quietly, not quite looking Mr. Miyagi in the eyes. “Sorry about that. I think the bottom line is just that I’m scared that even good things go south eventually – someone dies, someone cheats, you know, life happens – and I’ve been trying not to think about that for some time. And now it’s all I can think about. I’ll be fine,” she added, “I think. But the timing is really, really bad.”

“Hm. Timing is what is, can’t change that.” She raised her eyes. Mr. Miyagi drank the rest of his matcha, then climbed to his feet with a slight groan. “Wait here a moment.”

While Amanda worked on swallowing the lump in her throat and blink the sting out of her eyes, he made his way across the room to a cabinet, from which he took a bottle and two glasses.

Not just any bottle, too. This was the kind of sake that always made its way into his cabinet as the winter grew close. The one Daniel said he couldn’t let him drink alone. He’d told her the reason for the yearly bender a couple of years ago, when he and Amanda had first moved in together and he’d come back from Mr. Miyagi’s one November morning with a massive hangover. Since then, grief and outrage fought an endless battle in Amanda’s heart whenever she saw the little hand-coloured photograph in Mr. Miyagi’s bedroom, but she’d never found the right words or the right moment to talk to him about it.

“Oh, Mr. Miyagi, you don’t have to –”

“At-at-at-at. Tea good, but for this? Strong stuff better. Drink.”

He poured two generous drinks and toasted Amanda’s tumbler. The glass went clink.

The wine was light, slightly sweet, with a kick at the end. It seemed to warm her throat and chest from the inside, much as the tea had. She closed her eyes for a second, enjoying the taste. And the kick. She had needed that kick.

When she opened her eyes again Mr. Miyagi was looking straight at her.

“How ridiculous do you think it is,” she asked in a low voice, “being scared of your own wedding?”

He shook his head.

“Amanda-san, in life, always easier to hide head in sand. Admit being scared, though – that pretty brave. You face fear.”

She took a sip from her glass to hide the wry turn of her mouth. “Brave is the last thing I’m feeling right now.”

“What feeling right now, then?”

“Stupid, mostly. And, well. Still nervous,” she added.

“Ah, not stupid. Just young.”

“Not that young.”

“And not that stupid either.” A small laugh escaped Amanda. Mr. Miyagi’s expression softened. “Miyagi… very nervous before wedding. Very young then, and very stupid.”

Amanda held her breath. He had never mentioned his wife to her before.

“Why were you nervous?”

“Daniel-san tell you about first trip to Okinawa?”

Amanda nodded. “He said you’d left your first love there. She was engaged to marry your best friend, and you left so you wouldn’t have to fight him to the death. And win,” she added in a softer voice.

Another time, another place, another world. Arranged marriages and duels of honour – it all sounded like a story, not like something regular people her parents’ or grandparents’ age could have gone through. And maybe at first glance the little old man seated next to her in a khaki button-down did not look like the stuff of stories. But as she had come to know him better, she’d come to know better.

Mr. Miyagi nodded with a smile.

“Hai. Yukie. Very kind, very smart. Very beautiful. Miyagi’s heart… broken, little pieces. Think never love again.

“I come to Hawaii in shame, start working small jobs. Fix carts, fix roads, cut cane in fields. Then… meet Sakiko.”

He stopped for a gulp of sake, then continued in a faraway voice, “And she smart, and kind, and beautiful too. Her laugh was like… sun, here.” He patted his chest. “Each time, little piece of heart come back. One day I ask, Will you marry me? And she not laugh. Say yes.”

Another gulp.

“Luckiest guy on Earth.”

Amanda drank, too, hoping it would make her throat less tight. It didn’t.

“And you were still nervous?”

“Of course. Sakiko was sunshine, I was bum with broken heart! Didn’t believe second chance at love. Too rare. Like, blow it with Yukie in Okinawa then, blow it with Sakiko in Hawaii now, you know?”

Despite everything Amanda had to bite on an unexpected smile. That last bit was definitely a LaRusso contribution to Mr. Miyagi’s English.

“So, what did you do?”

“Marry Sakiko anyway. Say to myself, Must not lose to fear. Love… too precious to be touched by something like fear.”

If Amanda had been seated on a chair, this would have been a perfect time to cross her arms on the table and lay her head on them, if only as a cover for the emotions she could feel rising in her throat. But the table was too low for that. Instead, she took another gulp of sake and leaned forward on her elbows, her whole body slumping even as her mouth wobbled into a smile at the last sentence.

A smile that fell when Mr. Miyagi poured himself another glass and muttered, “This story no happy ending, either.”

He stole a glance through the open door of his bedroom, where he kept Sakiko’s picture and the little box that contained some of his most painful memories. Amanda swallowed, her eyes burning.

“I know,” she murmured. “Daniel told me what happened then. Mr. Miyagi, I am so sorry, that—”

“Eh, long time ago. Not worry.” But his voice was rough, his eyes shining wetly in the dim light of the lanterns. He reached for his glass, downed some of the wine; when he set his glass down Amanda laid a hand on his arm, gently, at a loss for how to convey everything she wanted to.

Somewhat to her surprise, he didn’t pull his arm back.

“Was boy, you know. Little American Miyagi boy, born California. Sakiko wanted American name, like George, Harry. I wanted Kanryō, like father. Sakiko say, Why not both? Many Americans more than one name. Last letter say, Little Kanryō Harry strong, kick hard.”

Mr. Miyagi picked up his glass with his free hand and emptied it in one go. A breath shuddered out of him.

“Miyagi pretty damn lost for a while after. No pick up broken pieces for many years. Too much work.”

Amanda was reluctant to remove her hand, still clasping his arm. She clenched her lower jaw to keep it from trembling and wiped her eyes with the thumb of her left hand.

Mr. Miyagi made for the bottle again, but seemed to think better of it. Instead, his hand flopped on Amanda’s, patted it once or twice, then squeezed.

Then he let go and leaned back, blinking at the ceiling.

“Life, you know. Sometimes work out, sometimes, ah… sometimes not.”

“That’s one way to put it,” said Amanda, her voice thick and echoing around strangely in her head. Mr. Miyagi looked back down again and peered at her.

“Not mean give up on life. Never know what you find next. Like chocolate box.”

Something that might have been a laugh in different circumstances snorted its way through Amanda’s nose. Thank goodness she hadn’t been drinking. Look at the dignified bride, snickered a voice in her head that sounded a lot like her own.

“Did you just quote Forrest Gump!?”

“I watch TV,” Mr. Miyagi retorted with what she could recognise as a rather poor attempt at his usual stone-face sarcasm. Not that she’d dream of calling him out on it. “Good for catchy saying. Sound wise later, when make this face and go hmm. Listen to wise old Miyagi.”

Amanda, flabbergasted, dealing with severe mood whiplash, and maybe just a little buzzed after Aunt Pat’s dinner and half a glass of sake, stared at him open-mouthed for a while until delight started to creep into her face, like a blush. Mr. Miyagi smiled.

“Daniel-san make same face first time figure out karate training. Mouth open, big eyes, ooh.”

“I know that face,” Amanda laughed. “I’ve seen that face. His eyes go…” She made a gesture with all five fingers extended, palm out, and smiled fondly. “He loves to make everyone think he’s got it all figured out. You know, control, balance, and everything. But then something will blow his mind and wham – surprise face.”

“Hai. Good moment. Great fun, too.” Mr. Miyagi picked up his sake again, both his moustache and his glass almost hiding his smile until he realised there was no alcohol left in it. “Miyagi father teach karate since small boy. This high.” He raised his hand at a height Amanda, through her patchy experience with kids, guessed must mean ‘very young child’. “Do kata, blocks, balance exercises. Build good muscle, good reflex, good head. Years to learn. But Daniel-san, only two month training before tournament. Had to trick mind for body build muscle and reflex quickly.”

“And did he have a good head?” asked Amanda, resting her right elbow on the table and her cheek into her palm, smiling at the mental picture.

That smile widened at Mr. Miyagi’s expression.

“Eh… Depend. Hard head, yes. Big mouth. Bit of a handful. Tended to rush into things, not look right, not look left – only forward. Sometimes not even then!” He raised his eyebrows in mock outrage. “And stubborn, like mule. If really no want listen, no listen at all, even Miyagi, even mother!”

He shook his head.

“Good head, yes, sometimes – but good heart, always. Big heart. Bigger than him.”

Amanda had to smile again at that. She and Daniel were the same height; she stood taller than him when she wore high heels, but she’d always been tall for a woman. 5’9 was the average height for a man. He did seem to have twice the average amount of heart, though, which had been one of the things that had drawn her to him in the first place.

“You know,” said Mr. Miyagi as he screwed the sake bottle’s cap back on, “Daniel-san tell me later he was angry when he and mother move here, to California. I understand. Left family, friends. Memories. Tomb father buried. And for place that no want them, no understand them. Funny face, funny accent. Get laugh at, beat up. Don’t know rules here, he say.

“Well, Miyagi know thing or two about Don’t know rules here. He say angry boy now. I see lonely boy then. Polite to old Okinawa fixer guy. Gentle with bonsai. Come down, say, Hey, Mr. Miyagi, can hang out with you tonight? I know mother work late, I know boys with bad attitude in school. I say, Sure, here bonsai clipper. Here story about Okinawa. And then, later, karate training. But even after tournament, still show up. Do kata, help fix house, talk. Talk a lot,” Mr Miyagi added in that special tone of his, dry but for the twinkle in his eyes, “but, er… listen, too. Listen good, for young man who talk so much.”

Amanda smiled into her palm, both at Mr. Miyagi’s words and the guarded but transparent affection in his voice.

“He is good at that,” she murmured, “when he wants to be.”

“Hai. Sometimes forget, but never for long. Love bring him back, always.” He paused. “Even when being bonehead.”

The word made Amanda chuckle silently.

“He really means a lot to you, huh.” Like you mean the world to him, she didn’t say. But then again she was fairly sure she didn’t need to.

Mr. Miyagi pursed his lips in thought. Then gave a short nod.

“Boy lonely when come here. Miyagi… lonely for long time then. Busy life, busy hands, yes. But, er, heart need busy too. Need love to give, to get. Like bonsai; no love, then no water, no help shape and grow. Root go weak. No good.”

His eyes fell on a little juniper on a cabinet – one of the many bonsais scattered here and there, in the house and the garden – and his moustache twitched.

“Then one day Miyagi realise heart get pretty busy, too. Turn out lonely boy with big mouth and hard head, plenty of love to give. When I get letter from Yukie that father dying, he say, I’m coming with you, Mr. Miyagi. Be there for you. And when father die…” He cleared his throat. “When father die, no more wise Mr. Miyagi for a while. No more funny jokes, no more smart sensei. Just little old man alone, full of tears and regret.

“Daniel-san lose father, too. Shared grief with me then, regret, guilt. Kind words, gentle silence. Help pick up broken pieces.”

For some reason this reminded Amanda of her mom taking up yoga after Dad left, like her, so they’d share an activity that was all theirs and help each other through it. Or Jessica spending six months in California after Amanda moved in, just so she wouldn’t be alone in a strange place.

She drank from her sake and smiled into her glass, trying to catch Mr. Miyagi’s eyes.

“That’s what a good family does,” she said softly as she set the tumbler down. “Be there in the good times and the bad.”

“Miyagi not very good family. No see father for forty years.”

“No, but… family doesn’t have to be blood, right? You were there for Daniel and he was there for you. That’s the important thing.”

Mr. Miyagi shot her a side glance.

“True.” His gaze softened. “Once I lose baby boy. Later, I get young man. Not same, but not less.”

And before Amanda could figure out whether she wanted to smile or cry – and if she could get away with blaming it on the sake – he said in a voice that was a lot more like his usual matter-of-fact tone:

“You say Life happen – you right. I say Sometimes work out, sometimes not – Miyagi also right. But life is people, too. And…”

He stopped, as though searching for words.

“Look, important thing about Daniel-san: hot head, kind heart. Always fight for what believe, here.” He put his hand over his heart. “And what Daniel-san believe most is family, friends. Trust. Support in hard times. No walk away from difficult situation – go right toward trouble and say, I make this right. And I think you same, Amanda-san.”

“Mr. Miyagi,” said Amanda in a small voice, putting her chin in both her hands and leaning with her elbows on the table, “if you’re trying to promise me we’ll never have problems, I’m not gonna believe you.”

“No. You will have problems – plenty good couple have problems. But you and Daniel-san, love each other very much. Work through problems. Make good team.” He looked her in the eyes again. “Worth it.”

“I know,” murmured Amanda. “Believe me, I know.”

Fact was, she did know, and she’d known for a long time, way before anxiety had started to whisper inside her brain. She did have doubts, and fears, and insecurities – but never about that.

Maybe sometimes all you needed was someone to lay out the inside of your head for you and show you what was in it. In the light of tea, sake, and good insights, everything became just that little bit clearer.

Mr. Miyagi was smiling.

“So. You better?”

Amanda gave the question some consideration.

“Yes,” she said eventually with a solemn nod, “I’m better.”

“There you go. Power of matcha and nihonshu3. Work every time.”

“Power of a good host, too,” she pointed out, “and a good friend. Thank you, Mr. Miyagi.”

“Ah, no thank me. Want guest room? Is late. And you getting married tomorrow.”

She gave a laugh. “There is that, yeah. But I think I’ll go home. Thanks for the offer, though. And the perspective.”

Mr. Miyagi nodded and started getting to his feet, slower than before. The two glasses of sake and the late hour were taking their toll, like it did on Amanda.

“Thank you for company. Always welcome here. And, er, Amanda-san?”

“Yes?”

He hesitated again, although this time it didn’t look like he was searching for the right English words, but rather bracing himself.

“Next month, fifty-five years since… since telegram. I know Daniel-san come – not like it when Miyagi alone that night.” He cleared his throat. “If you… if you want to come, too… have tea, perhaps drink some sake in memory, then… Would be good. To have you.”

Amanda’s breath caught in her throat.

“I would like that,” she said softly, but with feeling. “I would like that very much. Thank you.”

Silence fell between them, soft and comfortable, a bridge rather than a divide.

When the moment broke, Amanda retrieved her handbag and her coat to leave; but as she went to open the door she let her hand fall and turned back to him.

“Mr. Miyagi?”

“Hm?”

She bit her lip, tasting the remnant of the lipstick she’d put on before leaving her and Daniel’s apartment. It felt like ages ago now.

“I, uh… I’d planned to walk down the aisle alone. You know, there’s a tradition that the father of the bride gives her away, but… well, you know. He’s not… He won’t be there. So.” Heat was rushing in her cheeks and ears which would have been convenient to blame on the sake, but a complete lie. “Would you… come with me? Give me away?”

Mr. Miyagi didn’t answer straight away, and she faltered a little.

“I know you’re already Daniel’s best man, so it’d be a bit irregular, but—”

Mr. Miyagi made a dismissive hand gesture.

“This first American wedding Miyagi go to, not suppose to know what regular or irregular. Good excuse if someone say Oh, can’t do that. But… Important for you?”

“Yes,” Amanda said, the word rushing out of her along with a breath. “Yes, it’d be… it’s important.”

“Then Miyagi honoured to give you away, Amanda-san.”

He bowed, very formal and deliberate. She bowed back in the same manner, careful to keep her eyes on his, smiling warmly.

Her heart finally at peace.

* * *

The apartment was dark and silent when she turned the key in the lock and walked in as noiselessly as she could. She hadn’t let Daniel know she was coming home. He must have gone to bed by now.

The kitchen still smelled faintly of mac and cheese when she passed by the open door.

Daniel’s go-to comfort food.

Amanda smiled fondly. Perhaps she hadn’t been the only one in need of some reassurance tonight.

The feeling was confirmed when she stopped in the bathroom to change into her night clothes. The laundry hamper had gained a couple of additions in a few hours, ie. sweatpants and a t-shirt, though the most telling was Daniel’s headband, carefully set aside to be washed by hand later. His bath towel was damp. He’d definitely been practising something more intense than slow katas and breathing exercises. Sometimes they joked that if they managed to get a bigger place – an actual house, for instance – they might include a dojo just so he wouldn’t have to clear space in the living room to work on his karate.

The shapeless lump under the covers didn’t move when she tiptoed into the bedroom, but as she slipped into bed she heard a mumbled, “Hey, honey. Didja ditch your game night for me?”

“Kinda,” Amanda whispered back, wrapping her arms around her boyfriend. “Turns out I want to spend my last night as a bachelorette with you.”

“Aw. I’m flattered. And hey, who could blame ya.”

Sleepy and slurred as his voice was, the grin in it was unmistakeable. The accent, too. The more tired, angry or emotional he was, the stronger the Jersey came out.

Amanda snorted, and made herself comfortable. It was easy. The texture of the pillowcase, the scent of fabric softener on the sheets, the solid warmth of Daniel as she curled up against him and buried her nose in his hair – it was all familiar, reassuring. None of that would change tomorrow, or next week, or next year. And the changes that would come – their joint career plans, getting a house, having kids one day – they would face or embrace together.

Daniel shifted until he had his arms around her, too.

“You okay?” he murmured.

Amanda looked at him in the dim light filtering through the blackout curtains, closed eyes barely visible through the tousled dark hair flopping across his forehead.

“Yeah.” Quiet, heartfelt. Nothing stirred in her chest except the usual affection. “You?”

“Mhm-hm. Quiet night. Glad you’re here.”

Not a word about working out through possible anxieties. Daniel hated to make people worry. It was both an endearing quality and a frustrating flaw of his.

One breath, two, three, each longer than the last before his voice came again, barely audible.

“Still on for tomorrow?”

“It’s a date,” she whispered, and he let out a silent laugh. With possibly some relief in it. Amanda was too sleepy to tell for sure.

They fell asleep intertwined, arms and legs in a tangle, like any other night.

___________

1In 1999. (of course I checked ^^’) I don’t know about now, though.

2A candy made of peanut butter fudge partially dipped in chocolate originating from Ohio.

3Aka sake.

___________

💜

Please drop a comment if you like! I’m Belphegor on AO3 and the fic is at archiveofourown.org/works/42425775, except I can’t make the link clickable because then the post probably won’t show up in the tag. (dammit, Tumblr.) I’ll put a clickable link in the replies.

#cobra kai #karate kid #fanfiction #my stuff #I have a lot of feelings about this okay

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