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safarigirlsp · 3 years

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Love & War

Love & War

Regency Kylo Ren x Reader

Word Count: 15.5k

Warnings: NSFW. Language. Smut. Non-Graphic Mentions of Violence and Death. Old Timey Sexism. Fluff. Romance. Humor. Stilted Language.

Author's Note: Valentine’s Day always puts me in the Regency feels! So, here is my take on a Regency Kylo fic. Top notes of Pride & Prejudice with undertones of Cinderella.

AO3 Link

Admiral Ren in Love

It was a commonly known truth that an early summer evening provided the perfect atmosphere to induce single men, skittish and reclusive creatures such as they were, out from hiding and into the company of eager and beautiful young women. For, of course, it was also common knowledge that no man could find happiness in his own company alone, and could only be made whole once he found a woman to walk through life by his side.

As such, evenings like this one in early June of 1815 provided a wonderful excuse for the large estates of the county to host balls. The combination of the welcoming weather and the mood it imbued, that of brimming warmth and blossoming potential, allowed for conditions ripe for new love to bloom.

Or, as was often the case for you, provide the opportunity for a line of unimpressive ‘gentlemen,’ if the term could be so liberally applied, to hound after you for the duration of the evening. Such events had at best, the habit of gifting you an evening of humor and lighthearted laughter at the expense of a troop of young and fumbling boys and, at worst, an evening of frustration and disappointment at the lack of men who held any appeal to you whatsoever.

Dancing light from hundreds of candles refracted off pendulous chandeliers in the large ballroom. A soft glow illuminated men with high-cut coats, snugly fitted vests, and handsomely tied cravats, dancing with women in empire waisted gowns in all colors of the palette. In groups, couples spun and exchanged partners as they circled around the floor. Jubilant music and laughter filled the cavernous room, floating to the ceiling like incense.

Leaning one shoulder casually against the ballroom wall, sipping at your drink, you watched the ball from its periphery, preferring to observe rather than partake yourself.

You smiled at the sight of an awkward young man stepping on the dress of his dance partner, who made an admirable attempt at hiding her annoyance. Your attention was drawn from the spectacle before you by a rich baritone voice booming from close behind you.

“Women wear colorful gowns and dance, like flowers on display,” you overheard, as you turned to see the source of the deep voice.

Your eyes were met by a tall, broad shouldered, strikingly handsome and darkly countenanced man, clean shaved with pale unmarred skin and a shoulder length mane of raven hair. He wore an officer’s uniform complete with a sword, his enormous left hand resting casually on its hilt.

The man’s pompous observations were directed at Lord Hux, a ginger-haired man with whom you were acquainted through your families.

“Yes, the ladies are blissfully ignorant of the violence necessary to allow them such indulgences, to wistfully display their beguiling smiles at balls such as these. The blood that must be spilled to enable such frivolity,” the dark man continued.

As if feeling your scornful appraisal, the man’s eyes darted to meet your own, gleaming amber with a practically savage undertone. He held your gaze for an impolitely long moment, neither of you allowing yourselves to look away first. When you failed to balk under his scrutiny, his lips twitched in the barest of grins, yet his eyes still bore into yours, inviting you to make an attempt at challenging him.

Little did he suspect that you would always accommodate such a challenge. Especially from a man who assumed that you were nothing more than a pretty face, a meek constitution, and an ignorant wit.

“Tell me, sir,” you interjected, taking a step toward the large man. “How many unfortunate women have met their untimely ends by failing under the harshness of your perusal or by falling from the mountaintop of your lofty ego?”

“I merely state a truism regarding the different experiences of men and women,” he calmly declared, stepping closer to you. Towering over you, his shoulders squared and spine rigid, his right hand moved to lock in a fist held behind his back. Confidence exuded from him like a fine cologne. “You live comfortably in your small corner of the world, rarely venturing outside of it. Your lack of awareness is not your fault. You simply have not seen the world, gained experience, as I have.”

“Am I to understand, then, that because I have never myself hunted lions on the savanna, that I cannot conceive of their claws and fangs?” You asked, moving another half step closer, raising your chin defiantly at the imposing man. “I suppose that you have experienced every and all manner of things this world has to offer, to allow yourself such a range of insight.”

“To your point, Miss, you may conceive of claws and fangs in the abstract. Although, I doubt that you can understand the fear that would grip your heart when a lion prowls outside your tent at night, hunting you mercilessly and relentlessly.” The man’s sharp eyes held yours, his attention singularly and intently focused on your countenance.

“There you are gravely mistaken, sir,” you said with a smirk. “I know very well, perhaps better than you, what it is like to be stalked like prey. A trophy to be captured.”

At your words, the man grinned slightly, sideways and wolfish.

“Clever, Miss,” he conceded. “However, there are evils in this world for which your experience does not account, and in this sense, your ignorance is bliss. The world is full of unpleasantness that hunts after you and your peaceful little ballroom world every day like a lion in the tall grass.”

“I have been told that women are chartered to find large strong men to protect them from such nefarious happenings,” you teased, pausing to look around the room pointedly. “Although, I see very few Achilles incarnate walking amongst us.”

“That is because such men, like myself,” he also paused, matching your dramatic intonation. “Are loathe to attend frivolous dances and balls. We are too busy fighting with knives and swords and cannons, spilling our blood, to keep the lion caged. And your pretty eyes are all the prettier for it, for being spared such haunting ugliness.”

“Then I thank you, sir, and I presume that I speak for all women,” you said with an icy smile. “When I thank you for depriving us of your cheery presence at frivolous events such as these.”

“I aim to serve, Miss,” he replied sarcastically, his jaw clenching at your slight.

“Of course, I only jest, sir. No woman could possibly conceive of affairs of war and strategy.” You waived a hand dismissively, emphasizing your words. “I’ve no doubt that Queen Elizabeth herself believed that when the Spanish Armanda sailed to England, they only transported the finest silks and jewelry from the East. Until a man whispered the truth in the Queen’s ear.”

“You simply fail to appreciate the power of the right man whispering in your ear,” the man told you haughtily. “What is your name, Miss? I should know my adversary.”

“Oh, I should not reveal my identity to the enemy. Such would be an ill-advised act in a time of war,” you teased him lightly. “For now, you may refer to me as Queen Elizabeth.”

As the man’s plush lips turned in a smile, you turned abruptly from him. Depriving him of your attention, you allowed yourself to be pulled away from your conversation and disappear back into the crowd. You knew he would find you again. After all, it is never healthy for a man’s ego to give him too much attention in one sitting.

Later, when the formidable man indeed found you once again, sought you out amid the sea of girls who flounced and preened excitedly in an attempt to steal his attention, his stoic expression was only slightly betrayed by the raised corners of his lips.

“Queen Elizabeth, may I have this dance?” He asked cordially, extending a large hand to you.

“Are you quite sure that you wish to risk being seen consorting with the enemy, Captain, Lieutenant, or whatever you are?” You asked coyly.

“Admiral,” he corrected in his heavy tone. “I am brave enough to hazard a dance with the enemy. We did not finish our discussion.”

“Is that what that was?” You asked, still considering his outstretched hand with a raised eyebrow.

“I am far from an impressive dancer, Miss.” His grin widened as he leaned down closer to you, “However, my earnest advice in this time of war is that you take my hand. Should you wish to continue our battle of wits uninterrupted.”

Upon placing your hand in his, his enormous warm grip swallowed it whole, as he led you onto the dance floor. A respectable distance separated your bodies as you began the series of steps and maneuvers, which the large man had trouble following.

“I see the dance floor is not a country you visit often on your military adventures, Admiral,” you noted lightly, as he stood next to you before the next temporary exchange of partners split you apart.

“It is rare that I find myself coerced onto the dance floor by a strategist as fine as yourself,” He replied when he returned to you, your hand again resting in his, he replied, “Additionally, you have me at a disadvantage. Women have more natural adeptness at trifles such as dancing.”

“Oh, so you do concede that women may possess more knowledge than men, but only when it concerns the trifling and unimportant things in life?” You challenged.

“I must choose my words more carefully around you. The smallest of openings and you strike,” he observed, a hint of fondness creeping into his proud tone. “Gender is not the issue, Miss. Experience is. If women managed countries, they would be obliged to substitute their knowledge of dance steps for that of strategy and the rules of war.”

“On the contrary, Admiral, I believe that if women ran countries, there would be no wars at all,” you corrected.

He spun you powerfully in step with the dance, his great strength apparent in his unrefined motion. “Perhaps. Wars would instead be fought by malicious gossip, venomous glares, and deathly silences.”

“Touché,” you responded. “Nevertheless, the fashion industry would supplement weapons as the leading source of trade. As it should.”

“Women and their obsession with fashion and aesthetics,” he condemned with no malice, shaking his head.

“Women and their obsession?” You retorted with a faint huff before deciding again to tease. “That, too, is due to the fault of men, as are most unfortunate happenings.”

“I am on edge to hear your explanation as to how men are guilty of such an egregious offense,” he told you amid handing you off to another intermittent partner.

“Tell me, Admiral, when was the last time you heard a man praise a woman for her conversation or her intellect, as opposed to her smile or her figure?” You asked upon returning to his arms.

“Well, I must confess,” he declared, handing you to another partner, continuing his words upon your return, “You are a rare creature who could reasonably be praised on all fronts. You are tolerably intelligent. You also present an engaging conversation. I am surprised, in fact, that a woman in possession of such agreeable features would be so.”

“I am happy to be agreeable, at least tolerably so,” you quipped. With that, feeling the sting of his backhanded compliment, you released him and left the dance floor upon the end of the dance.

“No. Wait,” he said, racing a few steps after you, “You mistook my meaning. I stated myself poorly.”

You easily slipped away through the crowd. Making your way to the entrance of the great manor that hosted the ball, you fortuitously found your party outside, ready to depart.

Climbing quickly into the carriage, your thoughts were soon consumed by conversation with your friends and tales of pleasant dances and tolerably enjoyable company.

As you talked, your hair fell free from its intricately fastened style. Reaching to feel for your pins and barrettes, you found the absence of your centerpiece. Missing from your hair was your hair comb, a finely crafted lacy floral design forged from rose gold.

Whether it fell from your hair due to the jostling of your dancing, the haste of your exit, or your slightly clumsy entry into the carriage, you cannot be sure. You were also unaware that when the large Admiral rushed out onto the steps, in search of the beautiful woman he had lost in the crowd, he spotted her rose gold hair comb shining up at him from the ground. Retrieving it, he placed it inside his inner breast pocket, resolved to keep it safe until he could place a smile on your lips by returning it.

Fate, it seemed, had other plans. The Admiral was not permitted to search for you nor given an opportunity to redeem himself. All of the enlisted and able-bodied soldiers and officers had been recalled, sent to the Netherlands. Unfortunately for all, Napoleon was waging war in a place called Waterloo.

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

Fortune turned sour not only for the Admiral, but for you as well. The battle of Waterloo tore your own family apart, taking all the remaining men in your family as casualties of battle.

Given the state of the law, you could not inherit your family’s property nor even the estate that had been your home since birth. You were forced into the position of either marrying for the sake of preserving your assets and placing them in the hands of whatever undeserving man deigned to take your hand, or allowing your property to be forfeited. Between the abysmal options, you chose the latter.

This, of course, resulted in the changing of your station. You were no longer a respected young lady. You were rendered part of the working class, those poor unfortunates who had to toil in order to maintain themselves.

In what you were assured was an act of great charity, you were employed by your acquaintance Lord Armitage Hux to act as the governess to his two abominable, motherless children, twin red headed boys aged ten.

Hux’s motive for employing you was thinly veiled. Naturally, he wanted you for his own, convinced that he could while away at your resolved aversion to him if given adequate time. He had, however, refrained from being unduly overbearing with his advances.

You were given a room in his manor, allowed a modicum of privacy, while serving your role as governess. You learned many things listening to the gossip and rumors that flitted through the estate of Lord Hux.

Among the inconsequential bits of trivium, you learned a few items that piqued your interest. Notably, was the identity of the mysterious Admiral.

Admiral Kylo Ren was, by all credible accounts, a monster. The black sheep of his lofty family in both deeds and countenance, he had been disowned. However, by the same twist of fate that cruelly removed your station, his was restored. As the only male heir to the great Skywalker fortune, he inherited everything upon the deaths of his parents and uncle, becoming the richest and most esteemed man in the county. All having transpired while he fought against Napoleon’s navy, spilling his blood for his country and cause.

During his time in the military, he carved a ferocious reputation for himself, written in the blood of countless enemies. It was rumored that his savagery was beyond compare, that he raged unchecked in battle, winning the un-winnable. A more notoriously dangerous man did not exist, not in polite society anyway. On his very short list of friends was Lord Hux.

Word of his return in the fall of 1816 spread quickly. Although it had been nearly one and one-half years since you had seen the man, the impression he left was distinctly memorable. You, it seemed, were not the only lady who was eagerly anticipating his return. Whereas Admiral Ren had left as a veritable disgrace after being disowned by his family, he returned a prize, a man of influence and great fortune.

News spread like wildfire through the eligible young women. Among them was Hux’s sister, Rey. A pretty enough, slightly built brunette woman with questionable motives. She was entirely convinced that she could not only steal the Admiral’s heart, but also refine and reform him to fit into her molded conception of a gentleman.

You and she had been rivals when your stations were equal, although you had always easily been her superior in both beauty and intellect. Now that you were decidedly beneath her, she took pride in reminding you at every turn how fate had placed her above you.

Rey induced her brother to host a winter ball at his estate, ushering the return of Admiral Ren.

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

December began with the ball in celebration of Admiral Ren’s return. In attendance were countless sycophants and social climbers who now wished to make the acquaintance of the powerful man about whom they had always spoken nothing but derisory bile.

Hux had informed you during casual conversation that he was only able to induce the elusive Admiral into attendance on the promise of making new business connections, while downplaying the extent to which the Admiral was walking into a trap filled with conniving young women, his sister among them.

The thought of seeing him again both thrilled and worried you. While the man had scarcely left your thoughts since you left his arms that night on the dance floor, you could not stomach the thought of seeing him again now that you were so disgraced by your loss of standing. After all, he had lightheartedly condemned you before. Now, with his elevated social rank and your diminished station, an insurmountable gap separated the two of you. You also had no delusions that the man had given you a second thought after that night. A man of his standing and vocation had better things to occupy his mind than silly women at frivolous balls. You had kept your thoughts of the Admiral, as well as your shared conversation and dance, a secret from all; known only to you, and only to be revisited in your memories and dreams.

You had not attended a ball since that fateful June evening when you danced with Admiral Ren. Nor would you be allowed to attend this one. No, you would be delegated to managing the children and keeping them suitably entertained so that they stayed quietly away from the gathering.

On the day of the ball, you were hidden away, stories above the merriment and festivities, shut in a room with the Hux boys and a few other children. Fortunately, the children were largely able to amuse themselves amongst each other and required little oversight from you.

As the manor filled with music, voices, and laughter, all the sounds of the event from which you were excluded, you pictured the Admiral dancing among a sea of smiling woman.

Admiral Kylo Ren was indeed in attendance, as he had promised Lord Hux. Unbeknownst to you, he was, at that very moment, enclosed in Hux’s private study, avoiding the ball entirely and speaking to his friend.

“These women hold no appeal for me, Hux,” Kylo spoke, waiving his hand dismissively. “I cannot get the thought of a singular woman from my mind. From that last interminable ball I attended at your behest, I might add.”

“I know of no woman who matches your description, Ren,” Hux replied, lighting an imported cigar. “‘Beautiful beyond compare and with a wit more impressive still,’ you say? Perhaps, your memory has been clouded by your time at sea. Or by nearly being killed in battle. You’re clinging to an exaggerated vision, Ren.”

“Yes, I am a man prone to flights of fancy and romantic idealism,” Kylo scoffed sarcastically. “I tell you, Hux, she was beautiful enough to stick in my mind like a thorn, witty enough to make me question my convictions, and to top it all, she was fearless enough to engage me in debate, whereas even men of war are too frightened to do so.”

“Such a jewel would likely have found a husband over the course of a year and one-half,” Hux pondered, to be met with an icy glare from the larger man.

“Upon my return, I inquired after her from the noteworthy estates in the county to no avail,” Kylo gritted, pouring himself a scotch from a heavy crystal tumbler.

“She cannot be so singular, Ren. Beautiful women abound. Even the governess for my boys is remarkably beautiful herself.” Hux moved to refill his own glass. “Surely, you have been charmed by women and their wiles before.”

“Never for longer than an evening.” Kylo smirked before his thoughts again returned to you. “No, I have never before been ‘charmed’ in a way such as this. Nor is it charmed so much as goddamned bewitched.”

“There you have it!” Hux exclaimed, patting a hand down onto Kylo’s broad back with a laugh. “A witch! Transformed into a beauty for one night to ensnare you.”

“An angel is possible,” Kylo joked. “Sent to earth for only one night.”

“And she spent it with you?” Hux laughed. “Poor girl.”

Kylo huffed a deep laugh at his own expense along with his friend.

“How long will you persist in abstaining?” Hux inquired. “A man possessing of your considerable appetite must be miserable indeed.”

Choosing to take a drink of scotch instead of respond, Kylo’s jaw clenched when he swallowed it down.

“Will you not at least peruse the fine selection of ladies I am hosting this evening? You are the man of the hour, after all.” Hux returned his glass to the table.

With a vaguely annoyed growl deep in his chest, Kylo downed the remainder of his drink and placed his glass down. Silently glaring at Hux as he ran a large hand through his unruly hair, he allowed himself to be ushered back toward the ballroom.

The following morning you could not keep the smile from your lips when you overheard Rey lamenting to her brother over breakfast about the events of the ball.

“Why should Admiral Ren even attend a bloody ball if all he intended to do was stand as still as a statue, speaking to barely anyone, and dancing with no one at all?” Rey pouted at her rejection. “The man outright refused to take my hand for a dance!”

“Dancing is not the man’s strength. I have only seen him dance on one or two occasions,” Hux tried to console her. “Perhaps, sister, you need to revise your tactics.”

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

It was not that you loathed all of the duties of being a governess so much as you loathed your demotion to the status of governess. Some days were not entirely terrible. Some days you even found yourself enjoying your activities with Hux’s boys, chasing and playing outside with wooden swords.

Today was such a day. It was a crisp, unusually warm December day, the ground damp and muddied from several days of rain prior. Capitalizing on the weather, you had herded the boys outside to burn some energy after having been shut inside for days due to the weather.

Each of you had a wooden sword, just in case of any dragons lurking on the property, of course. Swordplay, however, was abandoned in favor of visiting the horses and other livestock they had missed since being inside.

While the children chased after the animals, you chased after the children. Slipping and sliding through the mud, you caroused with them. By the time you ushered them back toward the manor for lunch, your plain navy dress was woefully covered in mud that splattered up to your thighs. You did not even wish to appraise the status of your hem, caked in mud well above your ankles.

Upon reentering the manor through one of its side doors, you were informed by the head butler that Hux had been looking for you all morning. Company had arrived to whom Hux wanted to present his children.

An admirable attempt was made to lead them upstairs to change out of their disgraceful clothing, but they evaded your grasp, running instead through the long halls of the manor.

The boys erupted into the library with you hot on their heels at a jog.

Mud slinging from the hem of your dress, your hair disheveled, and your chest heaving for breath, you burst into the ornate library.

Nearly colliding with the expansive chest of Admiral Kylo Ren.

Having turned toward the direction of the commotion from the hallway, the Admiral faced you squarely, his black clad frame towering above you where you halted mere feet from him.

Your racing heart sank in your chest and your breath came as a sharp inhale that felt as though it would be trapped in your lungs forevermore.

Your widened eyes met his, and for the briefest of moments, surprise matching yours was reflected in his own eyes.

Confusion quickly consumed his features, as he took in your appearance and made the connection to your vocation.

Behind the Admiral, both Hux and Rey, nicely dressed, watched your plight with amusement.

Although all the heat in your body rushed to your chest and cheeks, you refused to disgrace yourself further by turning away and hiding. Instead, you used your wooden sword to mock his rigid military bearing from the night of your dance. Placing your right hand in a fist behind your back and left hand at your hip, gripping the hilt of your sword, you cast him the slightest shy smile.

“It’s you...” Kylo began, but his voice trailed away.

Hux and Rey addressed him in turn from behind, only to be wholly ignored.

“I was expanding my knowledge of warfare just this morning, Admiral,” you joked at your own expense, indicating the sword.

Although the same darkly handsome Admiral from the ball, the man who stood before you now had changed. Most noteworthy was an angry ragged scar that trailed from above his right eyebrow, down the side of his cheek to disappear beneath his collar. You wondered if he had sustained it at the Battle of Waterloo shortly after your last meeting. He now also wore a goatee matching his forest of ebony hair. His body was even impossibly larger, thicker than you remember. Everything about him seemed more hardened now, as war does to all men who survive it.

“An accomplished lady, indeed.” At his reply, his fiery eyes burned into yours with something you could not place.

“Accomplished?” Rey snorted cattily, moving closer to Kylo to stand beside him, eyeing your muddy bedraggled appearance. “Farm animals achieve the accomplishment of rolling in mud daily.”

“Beauty does not reside in fashion nor other accoutrements some ladies apply to enhance that which is not present naturally,” Kylo replied sharply, holding your gaze, without sparing so much as a glance to Rey. “True beauty shines through whether its bearer is covered in mud or diamonds.”

Your smile widened at his words and Rey’s accompanying scoff.

Kylo took a step toward you, opening his mouth to engage you further, when he was halted by Hux’s impertinent children, rushing to his front. Their merciless questions bombarding him.

Gritting his teeth, he tried to hide his visible annoyance at their intrusion. However, when one of the twins referred to him as ‘Uncle Kylo,’ his entire body tensed. Turning to Hux, he glared violently at his friend.

“If you persist in instructing them to call me that, they will be orphaned in short order,” Kylo growled loudly, his voice echoing through the library.

Oblivious to his irritation, one of the children extended his hands, wanting a hug.

“Uncle Kylo does not hug,” Hux told his son, smirking as he walked closer to the fray. “He only looms.”

You had never seen an expression as murderous as the one with which Kylo affixed the ginger haired man.

“Miss Y/N,” Hux continued, ignoring his friend. “Perhaps you can see to the cleanliness of the three of you. At once.”

The Admiral’s eyes followed you when you directed the children out of the room, even going so far as to pull him forward a step after you before he composed himself once more.

After your routine squabbling to make the twins bathe, you sent them back downstairs for lunch with their father, aunt, and his guest.

You knew that you were not invited to such an affair anymore. It was just as well, however, because your appearance would not be quick to render presentable. Instead of concerning yourself with such matters that you could not affect, you decided to use your free time away from your charges to take an indulgent bath yourself.

Once submerged in a searing hot bath, surrounded by floral scented bubbles and bath oil, you felt the tension leaving your muscles. The bright sunlight of high noon filled the room with a crystal vibrance as only a crisp winter day can.

Your relaxation was short lived, however, interrupted after only a few minutes by a firm knocking at the door.

“Am I at the correct door to call upon Queen Elizabeth?” Kylo’s voice boomed through the wooden door into the room.

“Excuse me?” You almost laughed at the title.

“You still have not given me your name,” he continued, unconcerned that he addressed you during your ablutions. “Give it to me now, so that I may implore you to join me downstairs for lunch.”

“Need I even address your frightening lack of decorum?” You teased, a smile on your lips. “I am in the bath, Admiral.”

“I have seen enough of you to know that however lacking my decorum may be, it is surely not enough to frighten you.” He laughed faintly, muffled by the door.

“It would not be proper for me to join you. I am now nothing but a governess,” you said bitterly. “You spoke to me once of the harsh truths of the world. This is one such truth.”

“As you correctly observed, Miss, I do not stand on decorum,” he told you firmly, his tone almost commanding.

“It would be shameful, Admiral,” you continued resentfully.

“Shameful?” He huffed at your words. “If you ask me to break down the door and carry you down myself to take a seat at the table as you are now, I would not be ashamed to do so. Nothing you could possibly do could shame me.”

“What could my company possibly add to your luncheon?” You asked, drawing a sponge across the back of your neck, wishing it was his large hand caressing you instead.

“Beauty,” he answered immediately. “The promise of a conversation that does not bore me. A pleasant debate.”

“A debate?” You laughed. “You desire more abuse, Admiral?”

“If it comes from your delicate hand or your soft lips,” his tone deepened.

“Perhaps at another more appropriate time, I shall abuse you until your heart’s content.” You adjusted yourself in the bath, certain the sound of sloshing water carried to Kylo and hoping the image of you did as well.

Another voice sounded from further down the hallway. That of Lord Hux. “Bloody hell, Ren, you have resorted to harassing my staff? We are all waiting on you.”

“Tell me your name and I shall retreat,” a sigh accompanied his words. “For now.”

“Why do you not inquire it of Lord Hux?” You poked him further.

“I wish to hear it as spoken by your lovely lips,” he replied decisively.

After telling him your full name you heard him repeat it from the other side of the door.

“Very well, Miss Y/N,” Kylo said, his hand resting on the door frame. “I shall not be so easily deterred at our next meeting, unless you deign to tell me directly that you have no further interest in my attention.”

As his heavy steps carried him back down the hallway and away from you, you found it now much more difficult to relax in your bath. Not with your heart threatening to break free from the cage of your ribs.

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

The holidays passed uneventfully and without word from Admiral Ren. Lord Hux threw another ball for Christmas, as was his tradition, drawing an impressive gaggle of young women, all hoping to lave the Admiral with their obsequious attentions. To the great disappointment of all, the notorious man chose not to attend the ball, depriving the ladies of his menacing bearing.

It was not until early January on the day of the first snow of the new year that Admiral Ren made good on his word to find you once again.

You awoke to frosted windows and a glistening white wonderland outside your window, a large snowstorm having passed through during the night depositing several healthy inches. The storm had cleared by morning, only a bright clear sky greeting you above the sea of fresh snow.

Excitement flooded you at the sight of the beauty outside. The rest of the household was similarly afflicted. The children were wild with anticipation, and even the adults could not help but be enticed by the snow and its beauty.

After pulling on a navy wool coat over your petal pink dress, you set about bundling up the children for the anticipated snowball fight and other wintery games.

You started at the sound of a deep commanding voice resounding through the manor, your entire body jolting with enthusiasm. As you hastily finished with the twins, you could hear Admiral Ren speaking to Lord Hux near the main entryway.

“My friend,” Hux welcomed, his eyebrows raised with curiosity. “This is a pleasant surprise. But a surprise, indeed, given the conditions.”

“Clear snowy days like this are a rarity,” Kylo spoke as he beat some snow from his overcoat. “I wish to capitalize on its charming atmosphere. I am sure you take my meaning.”

“Ah, you must mean that Uncle Kylo has come to play in the snow with his nephews!” Hux projected his voice loud enough for his children to hear, as he ribbed his friend. He lowered his voice again before continuing. “And not only to see their enchanting governess.”

Kylo scowled, but silently accepted the pleasure Hux gleaned from needling him.

It was not until you walked into view, following the children down the hallway toward the men, that Kylo’s grimace turned into a broad smile, the first genuine smile you had ever seen on his lips.

Kylo’s amber gaze fell upon you as you approached and did not waver in the slightest when Rey bounded down the stairs from his opposite side.

“Admiral Ren!” She keened, “I’ve wanted to see you again since our last luncheon. It seems you never have time to stay and talk with me.”

“The wolves do circle in the winter, do they not, Ren?” Hux teased further, poking at his sister’s enthusiasm.

Ignoring them both, Kylo’s attention was fixed solely upon you.

“Admiral Ren,” you greeted him, as he offered you a stately bow, a few flakes of snow falling from his thick hair with his motion. “This morning is full of so many pleasant surprises, it seems.”

“I am honored to be included among them, Miss Y/N,” he told you in that rich smooth dark chocolate voice of his.

“Oh, I never said explicitly that you were,” you returned with a coy smile.

Kylo sucked his cheek at your words, stifling another smile, eyes shining.

“I would welcome the opportunity for my presence to be one of the things that pleases you this morning,” he told you, encouraging you to issue a challenge for him to meet.

“A snowman, perhaps?” Hux suggested, raising cheers from his boys.

“It is ghastly cold,” Rey interjected. “Come have a hot cup of tea with me first, Admiral Ren.”

“I have never been susceptible to cold weather, myself,” Kylo told her dismissively.

“Uncle Ren could make an impressively large snow angel,” Hux continued, ignoring Kylo’s sideways glare and enjoying the opening to harass the Admiral.

“I have no doubt that a man of strategy such as yourself, Admiral Ren, will think of something engaging,” you told him over your shoulder as you walked away from the group, following the twins as they ran ahead.

Instantly, Kylo’s boot-steps echoed down the hallway behind you as you walked toward the back of the manor, exiting out into the garden.

Snow covered hedges greeted you almost immediately once outside. Close also was a large marble fountain and countless rose bushes, all similarly covered under a soft blanket of snow.

As the boys ran ahead, disappearing in between the hedges, you quickly readied yourself for Kylo’s approach.

Kylo stepped out into the bright morning sunlight in the garden. The glare from the snow was almost blinding after his eyes had adjusted to the indoor lighting.

An explosion of cold wet white struck him squarely on his proud nose, the snowball you tossed showering his face in fresh powdery snow.

Taken completely off guard, Kylo froze for a moment, shoulders bunched, before he wiped the moisture from his face to reveal a wicked grin on his lips as he looked at you. Every bit the predator eyeing his prey.

You had another snowball at the ready. Launching it toward your target, you watched it explode on the expansive plane of his chest, as he bent down to gather two unfairly large handfuls of snow.

A playful growl rumbled through Kylo’s chest when he straightened back to his full height. Drawing back his arm, he aimed carefully at your fleeing figure. He threw his snowball as you tried to duck behind a hedge, your beautiful laughter carrying back to him across the garden when it connected with your back.

“You would shoot your adversary in the back?!” You shamed him good-naturedly from your place behind the hedge.

“All is fair in love and war, Miss Y/N,” he returned, voice husky, as he closed the distance between you.

Rounding the hedge, Kylo charged headlong into another snowy assault to his face by your two perfectly aimed missiles. Tossing one blindly back at you, he landed a lucky shot to the side of your face as you turned too late to avoid it.

He was close to you now, within grabbing distance. He made a lunge for you, as you turned the corner of another hedge. Trying valiantly to follow your evasive movement, Kylo slipped in the snow, falling heavily down to his knee with a huff.

His fall halted your escape. Instead, you turned to rush back to his side. Grinning up at you, Kylo collapsed onto his back in the snow, holding his hands up in defeat.

“I surrender, Miss Y/N.” Kylo’s grin widened into a smile as he looked up at you. “You are indeed a formidable opponent.”

Kylo held his hand up to you, silently asking for you to help him up from the ground.

When you took his large warm hand, feeling it enclose around yours completely, you paused at the sensation before pulling to assist him.

You utterly underestimated the sheer massive weight of the man. Even though Kylo pulled your hand only gently, you were not braced for the large man. Your own feet slipped in the slick snow, bringing you crashing down onto Kylo’s enormous chest.

His body tensed beneath you for the briefest of moments before deep laughter bloomed in his chest, jostling your body with each hearty laugh. You found yourself laughing too, staring down at the huge handsome man.

Drawn by your shared laughter, the ginger twins ran through the hedges toward you. Upon seeing Admiral Ren lying on his back with you sprawled across his chest, they skidded to a stop. Both gasping at the lewd sight before them, they ran away back inside. No doubt to report your egregious transgression to Hux and Rey.

“This is terribly indecorous,” you told Kylo, only half kidding.

“I did warn you of my lack of concern for decorum, Miss Y/N,” he reminded you.

One of his hands lifted from its place in the snow to rest gently at your back, supporting you as you pushed yourself up from his chest. When you again held a hand down to him, you braced yourself properly before Kylo took your hand to rise.

Kylo brushed the snow from your coat before offering you his arm to guide you back inside. Prior to reentering the manor himself, he took off his overcoat to shake the snow free from it.

Inside, Kylo led you into the sitting room in front of the large roaring fireplace. Moving behind you, he removed your wet coat, draping it over a nearby chair to dry. You rubbed your hands over your arms, warmth quickly returning to you in front of the fire.

Kylo rested a large arm on the mantle when he moved back to his place beside the fireplace, facing you. When his eyes met yours, the embers in their depths burned with more than the reflected firelight as it crackled and popped. His mouth was turned in a fond smile, lips slightly parted as if to speak some secret truth to you alone.

Before he was given the chance to utter a word, Rey burst into the room, announcing the table was set for breakfast.

You knew that she would not permit you a moment’s reprieve to be alone with Kylo.

Despite having to share him with the Hux’s, the snowy January day spent in Kylo’s company was the happiest you had felt in ages.

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

February brought with it a bloom of hope in your heart. Encouraged by the attention bestowed upon you by the handsome Admiral, you felt yourself being carried away by daydreams of romance and wistful fantasies.

Having endured incessant nagging from the twin boys, you finally agreed to take them outside for an excursion once a day presented with tolerably decent weather.

Wind caught at your dress and mussed your hair as you trudged behind the boys on the blustery afternoon. They had at least decided upon a suitable activity, kite flying.

Lord Hux had a sprawling estate, its grounds encompassing fields, hills, and forest alike. Seeking shelter from the wind while you watched the children, you encouraged them to fly their kites close to a tree line that abutted an open meadow. An old stone fence, broken down in places, ran through the meadow, parallel to a road that ran from town through Hux’s property, snaking through his meadow. You found an acceptably comfortable seat on part of the collapsed stone fence, the road to one side, the tree line to the other.

Tragedy struck only minutes after the boys begun flying their kites when one of them broke free from the child’s hand and found itself captured moderately high in the branches of a large tree near you.

Immediately, one boy started crying, the other taunting, which of course precipitated a fight over the remaining kite.

Realizing this tantrum would continue until you returned or solved the problem, you resigned yourself to climbing the tree to get the damned kite. It was less burdensome than squalling children and chiding aunts.

The climb up the tree was relatively easy, its branches, although slick with moisture, were thick and sturdy. You freed the kite with little difficulty, some twenty feet off the ground. Only then you realized that you had to climb back down, which, looking down the tree toward the ground far below, seemed infinitely more treacherous.

You began slowly, trying to find the same places to grip and step as you had on your ascent. Nearly halfway back to the ground, the branch you had trusted with your weight snapped. Your stomach flipped with gravity’s pull as you half-fell and half-slid down the slick tree. Clawing and grasping for any purchase, your hands fought to slow your fall. Before you fell fully from the tree, your left hand snatched out to grab a branch.

Your grab halted your fall but immediately a sharp searing pain shot through your hand. Regaining your footing on the trunk, you pulled your hand off the pointed snag that had slashed into your palm. A deep laceration covered the length of your left palm, bleeding heavily.

Wiping the blood off onto your dress where it covered your left thigh, you caught your breath and continued down. Every few seconds, you paused to wipe the newly collected blood on your thigh in an attempt to keep your hand as dry as possible for griping branches on your descent.

In the distance, you saw a rider approaching from down the road along the stone fence. A black shadowy figure. That of a large man sitting tall astride a large black horse.

It seemed Admiral Ren had a sixth sense for finding you in the most unflattering of circumstances.

At the sight of him, you slid the rest of the way down the tree, falling to your knees on the muddy ground with your impact.

Your movement drew his attention. Spurring his horse forward into a gallop, he charged toward you.

Rising to your feet, you again wiped the blood away from your palm onto your dress before locking your injured hand into a fist.

As you began to walk away from the tree, the black horse and rider jumped the stone fence, the animal not missing a beat of its stride upon its landing and galloping ahead toward you.

Kylo reined his horse to a stop only yards from you, its obsidian hooves kicking mud wildly as it slid to a stop on the slick ground. Kylo had jumped down from the saddle before the horse stopped completely, walking quickly to you. He wore a white shirt today, paired with his otherwise completely black ensemble.

At the sight of Kylo’s ferocious glare and forceful stride, a thunderous storm approaching, the twins ran in retreat back to their home.

Slipping in the mud and falling fully onto your bottom as you walked to meet the Admiral was not the worst thing to befall you today, but it was certainly the icing on your horrid cake.

Sighing dejectedly, you moved to push back up to your feet, but Kylo reached you first. Bending down, he hooked one hand behind your knees and the other under your arms, lifting you easily into a bridal carry.

Carrying you as though you were nothing, Kylo gently sat you down on a nearby stone where the old fence had fallen away. He dropped to a knee before you. Concern was etched across his features that were now only slightly above yours.

“You’re injured?” He asked, a frantic edge to his deep voice, as he looked over your body.

“It’s nothing. Honestly,” you assured him, your pride hurt more than your body.

“Where?” Kylo’s attention fell to the blood smeared on your dress, his hand ghosting your thigh over the stain.

Sighing with displeasure, you unfurled your left fist, extending it slowly to Kylo. Impatient, he grabbed your hand, pulling it toward him and examining the wound that sliced through your palm.

“This is deep,” he commented, brows knitting. His thumb cleared the mud and debris away from the cut. His thick fingers stroked the back of your hand while he held you gently. “What the hell were you doing?”

“Being a damned governess,” you said, your anger seeping out with your words.

“They are remarkably horrible children, are they not?” Kylo lamented, smirking slightly. “Causing you pain, however, is truly unforgivable.”

A small laugh escaped your lips at his words, despite your pain and embarrassment.

“I need to clean this. It will hurt,” Kylo told you, as he evaluated the severity of your wound. He grinned to himself before continuing, “If you must cry, I shall never tell.”

“While your lack of decorum is indeed appalling, Admiral Ren, it is hardly enough to bring me to tears,” you teased, flinching as he removed a piece of bark from your hand.

“Good. I would greatly prefer bringing a smile to your lips than tears to your eyes,” he told you as he rose to his feet.

Looking down at you, he slowly unbuttoned his coat and shrugged it off. Reversing it in his hands, he draped it over your shoulders. Your heart jumped at the momentary feeling of being so close to being inside his arms.

Without his coat, he somehow looked even larger. The movement of the thick muscles of his back and chest visible beneath his white shirt. Watching you as he unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled his sleeves up his forearms, he enjoyed the way your eyes followed his movements.

Stepping to his horse, he retrieved a canteen from his saddle.

Returning to kneel before you once again, his vibrant eyes seared into yours. Holding your gaze, he extended his hand forward slowly to the lapel of his jacket that engulfed you. Your pulse fluttered when he reached inside the jacket you wore to pull a white handkerchief from its inner pocket.

Flicking it quickly open, he wetted it with fresh water from his canteen, and he again took your hand in his warm strong grasp.

“I can clean it myself,” you said, as a trickle of blood spilled from your wound, not wanting to stain his clean effects.

“I am no stranger to blood,” he offered softly, reading your concern.

“You shall get blood on your shirt and this is the first occasion that I have seen you wear white.” Your right hand reached to the rolled cuff of his sleeve, caressing the material.

“Perhaps now you understand why I avoid the color.” He smirked as he began to dab gently at your hand with the handkerchief.

“I never assumed you would be capable of being gentle with anything,” you mused appreciatively at the softness of his touch.

“You seem to have made many assumptions about me, Miss Y/N.” He refolded the handkerchief to cover the bloodiest spot with fresh cloth. “Perhaps, I can correct more of them, if given the opportunity.”

“Perhaps.” You smiled at him.

“Tell me, Miss, how you came to be in the position of governess to the young Hux vermin,” Kylo inquired, distracting you from the pain of your injury. “Once I learned your name, I realized that I have been aware of your family by name for some time. You come from a family far better than your current station.”

“I no longer come from any family, I am afraid,” you explained, lowering your head with embarrassment. “The men in my family died in the war. Now, it is only me. And, as you know, women cannot inherit or hold property, unless they have a title. So, now I am reduced to a governess.”

“You could have married. Kept your estate,” Kylo correctly observed. “Did you not have suitors?”

“Many. One as distasteful as the next.” You shook your head at the thought. “Possessions can be restored. Honor cannot be.”

“Very true,” Kylo agreed. “I admire your conviction. I, too, value honor above comfort.”

Upon finishing with your hand, Kylo rinsed his handkerchief and squeezed it as clean as possible before wetting it again.

Even more softly than he had attended to your hand, he brought the cloth to your cheek, swiping away some errant splatters of mud. Studying your features, Kylo smiled warmly.

His hand lingered on your cheek, his calloused thumb caressing your skin without the barrier of the handkerchief. An unexpected wave of heat rushed through you at his simple touch.

You had to restrain yourself from chasing the touch of his hand when he withdrew it.

Straightening once again to his full towering height, Kylo held his hand down to take your uninjured right hand and lift you to your feet. Leading you back to his horse, he held your hand tightly.

Without warning, Kylo lifted you up onto his saddle. You barely had time to adjust yourself before he climbed up behind you. A sharp intake of breath was your only response when his girthy thighs brushed the outside of your legs and his powerful arms surrounded you. Nothing, however, matched the feeling of his chest at your back, expanding against you further with his every breath.

Spurring his horse forward, the momentum pushed you more firmly back against his chest, causing his arms to tighten around you in response. You wished the ride back would last for hours.

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

After personally ensuring that your hand was properly cleaned and bandaged, Kylo had to take his leave. However, he promised to call upon you the following day to inquire after your condition.

Despite your assurances that you were completely fine and that such an excursion was unnecessary, Admiral Ren arrived at Lord Hux’s estate the following afternoon, declaring his intention to stay for dinner.

After dinner, the moon hung high in the night sky, shining in through the expansive sitting room windows. You found yourself sitting on a plush settee, absently stroking the fresh bandage that wrapped around your left hand, as you traced figures in your sketchbook with your right.

Standing in the center of the room, Kylo and Hux reminisced of battles together. The room echoed with Kylo’s booming voice, although you were certain that he believed himself to be speaking moderately.

Rey busied herself by taking turn after turn about the room, exaggerating her motions in a fruitless attempt to draw Kylo’s attention to her figure.

Kylo very pointedly ignored her, shifting his position as she moved to always ensure his back was facing her.

You watched the display with amusement, smiling to yourself. When your attention drifted to Kylo, you caught his eyes meeting your own, his lips matching your attitude in the barest of grins.

Suddenly, Hux’s children charged into the room, bursting through the doors. Rushing to you where you relaxed on the settee, they crowded you with demands and cloying hands. As a nefarious unit, they implored you to play a song on the piano for them. It was your evening routine, to play music for the room. Although, the injury to your hand now rendered you incapable.

“I, too, enjoy music in the evenings, but I am not capable tonight,” you explained.

A shadow looming over you drew your attention over your shoulder. Kylo had come to stand behind you, glaring darkly at the two children.

“If my playing would please the lady, then I shall happily indulge her.” Kylo looked deliberately to you, a ghost of his smug smile turning his lips. More than smugness, however, was something else. He was challenging you to implore him, even of something so simple, to give him a task to fulfill on your behalf. Asking you to allow him to do something, anything, to please you.

“It would please me, Admiral Ren,” you told him with a smile before cocking your eyebrow, “but only if you play well.”

“I shall endeavor not to disappoint you, Miss Y/N,” Kylo assured you.

Moving from behind you, Kylo shrugged his jacket off as he walked to the piano forte, laying his jacket over its cover. The man looked ridiculously large when he took his seat on the small bench.

You very nearly started when he began playing, so shocked by the alluring harmony that resonated from the keys under his touch. Your attention was instantly captivated by the sound. It was astonishing, the way his huge fingers so adroitly keyed each note with precision and, even more so, the way he imbued such feeling into every tone.

As the room filled with the beautiful melody, you watched Kylo gracefully stroke the ivory keys. Soon, your hand began to sketch his profile instead of the absent designs you had been forming.

You moved to a chair closer to the piano to observe him in greater detail, eyeing him over your sketchbook.

“With certainty, the room abounds with more pleasing subjects than I,” Kylo spoke amid his elegant keystrokes. “However, if you are decided upon using me as your model, you would be sensible to sketch my good side.”

Your eyes lifted to him for a moment, confused by his words. He met your stare only briefly before returning his attention to his hands. In the soft light, you watched as his jaw clenched under your scrutiny, tightening beneath the scar that streaked his face. You understood his meaning then.

“I am sketching your good side,” you told him as simply as though you were observing a portrait, not wanting any other emotion to slip out with your words. “You are a handsome man regardless, but it is your scar that renders you dashing.”

Kylo’s eyes shot to you, his body tensing as though you had slapped him across the face. His reaction was camouflaged almost immediately by regaining his stoic composure. His lapse was too brief for most to see, but it did not escape you. Under your gaze, his chest rose with a heavy breath that he released slowly.

Once your drawing was largely completed, you rose from your seat, taking a moment to stretch the life back into your muscles. It was not lost on you how Kylo watched you sideways, his focus seemingly on his playing.

Walking slowly to the piano, you set your sketchbook down on its surface. Looking through your eyelashes occasionally at Kylo, you added some final shading.

“I am impressed, Miss Y/N,” Kylo said lowly, speaking only to you, as he regarded your sketch.

“I would be remiss to say that I did not enjoy the chance to admire your profile. The lines of your features lend themselves to sketching,” you told him, allowing your voice to soften.

“I am glad my features please you,” Kylo told you with a mildly confused expression. “I have never been fond of them, myself.”

“My fondness can make up for your lack thereof. I am especially fond of your nose,” you said with a lilt to your words. “And I did not expect such dexterity from hands as enormous as yours.”

“Is that so?” Kylo smiled now, although it held a wicked edge that you had never before seen. “I will admit that the size and dexterity of my hands has applications beyond piano playing that I believe you would appreciate. As does my nose.”

“Your nose?” You laughed lightly. “Now that, you must explain.”

“That particular talent would be much better demonstrated than explained.” Kylo’s eyes glinted mischievously as he looked into yours. “Perhaps one day I shall show you personally.”

“Why wait?” You pressed. “Surely, you are not shy?”

“I am certainly not,” Kylo huffed a laugh with his words. “Although, I fear you would think me beastly if I were to demonstrate my prowess to you in this setting.”

“Very well,” you told him airily. “Keep your secrets all to yourself.”

Kylo stood from his seat at the piano, moving close to you. Resting his large hand on the top of the piano next to yours, almost touching, he leaned down to speak for only your ears.

“If you desire it, Miss Y/N, I shall reveal all of my talents and my secrets to you and you alone.” His gaze burned into yours in that darkly intense way that you had come to know as his signature.

Your reply was interrupted by Rey, walking near Kylo and intentionally intruding upon your conversation.

“Who knew you hid such talents from me, Admiral Ren?” Rey simpered with an over-broad smile.

“My talents are not lightly given, Miss Rey, nor are they displayed now for your benefit,” Kylo spoke coolly, his eyes on you. “I was otherwise inspired this evening.”

A sly smile turned your lips at his words, as his hand edged almost imperceptibly closer to yours where they both lay on top of the piano.

“It is a pleasant evening, Miss Y/N,” Kylo mused. “Perhaps, you would join me for a stroll through the garden.”

At his words, Rey’s head jerked to you, sending you her nastiest glare.

“Fresh air sounds wonderful indeed, Admiral,” you affirmed, reaching a hand to his proffered arm. Hooking it through the crook of his elbow, you allowed him to lead you out of the room and outside into the cool night air.

Walking quietly arm in arm, you admired the beauty that surrounded you, the emerald hedges and ruby toned roses. Kylo’s arm was rigid under yours, his hand held in a fist matching the tightness in his clenched jaw.

When he finally spoke, he chose his words carefully.

“You are a clever woman, Miss Y/N,” he began, a hoarseness in his deep voice. “Surely, you must know that I have not made such frequent visits to this estate for the scintillating conversation that Hux provides.”

“Ah, then it must be his sister who captivates you,” you joshed, knowing full well the meaning behind his words.

Kylo scoffed at your accusation, shaking his head and waving his hand dismissively before continuing. He could not have offered further non-verbal indications of distaste at the thought.

“I know you tease me, Miss Y/N, which I have come to find most endearing,” Kylo told you earnestly, “but you should know that she is nothing to me. She has always been nothing to me.”

“Then it seems as though your frequent presence remains a mystery,” you mused, forcing him to speak to you frankly.

“I have come for the pleasure of your company alone, you infuriating woman.” Kylo shook his head again, fondly this time, as he smiled down at you.

“Infuriating?” You smiled back at him. “I would take that as a prized compliment coming from you, Admiral Ren.”

“Today, I came to return something to you,” he told you softly.

You raised an inquisitive eyebrow as he reached inside his jacket. Withdrawing his hand, he held out to you the rose gold comb that you had lost nearly two years ago pinched between his thick fingers.

“My comb!” You exclaimed, shocked. “You’ve kept it for so long?”

“I resolved myself to find the opportunity to return it to you.” Kylo moved closer to you, holding it out toward your hair. “May I?”

By way of assent, you turned your back to him. He gently placed the comb in position in your hair. His hands then ghosted down your arms with the faintest touch as you returned to face him.

As his hands fell away from you, his left hand caught your right. Three of his fingers overfilled your palm as his thumb brushed across your knuckles.

“Lord Hux has implored me to host a ball at my estate for Valentine’s Day,” Kylo told you, holding your hand in his. “I will agree on the singular condition of your attendance.”

“You wish to invite a lowly governess to such an affair?” You beamed up at him, scarcely believing his words.

“Yes. As the lady of honor, herself,” Kylo told you confidently. “And as the only lady with whom I shall dance.”

“Are you not adverse to dancing, Admiral?” You squeezed his fingers with your teasing question.

“I am. Unless my partner provides sufficient distraction in the form of a playful argument.” He winked at you affably.

“Ah, well, if it is to be dancing and an argument, how can I refuse?” You approved.

At your words, a broad toothy smile broke across Kylo’s features. He beamed wider and more genuine than you had heretofore seen, his eyes crinkling and parenthetical dimples revealing themselves, framing his handsome smile.

Raising your hand, he brought your knuckles to his lips. Pressing his lips softly to your skin, he kissed you once, rubbed his coarse goatee tantalizingly across your skin as his hot breath warmed your hand, then he placed a second lingering kiss to your knuckles.

When he lowered your hand, he held your gaze, looking as though he wished to say more, but checking himself. Instead, he settled for intertwining his fingers with yours and leading you hand in hand back through the garden.

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

Time had never passed as slowly as those days leading to the ball. Minutes passed as hours and days felt as long as weeks. You almost resented the occasion approaching because you had not seen Admiral Ren’s dark foreboding figure in the interim. Whether his absence was due to overseeing preparations or born from a desire to heighten your anticipation, you had not decided.

Every molecule of your reserve was required to suppress your tongue when Rey ignorantly boasted of her machinations to secure the Admiral’s affection at the ball. You could hardly fathom her unawareness of his intent when he had made it known that, above all, he desired your presence.

Although, the thought of seeing Admiral Ren at the ball, of dancing in his arms, elated you, a small sense of embarrassment flitted through you on occasion. You had no gown that was befitting of such an event other than the same gown which you had worn to the summer ball the night you met him.

Valentine’s Day dawned beautifully pink and golden, a pastel sky painted in all the colors of romance. You had hardly slept, so elated at what the evening may bring, yet not daring to allow yourself to indulge too heavily in the hope of something remarkable.

Frantic knocking on your door pulled you out from the warmth of your bed. Throwing on a dressing gown and tying it hastily, you flung open your door.

Standing outside, similarly dressed, was Rey.

“A package came in the early dark of the morning,” she told you. A guise of comradery, her excitement a mask for her prying curiosity. “It did not identify a sender. I cannot imagine who would be sending you a package, today of all days.”

“There is but one way to find out,” you said excitedly, rushing past her, down the hall and stairs.

Rey was close on your heels when you burst into the dining room to find Lord Hux seated for breakfast, already dressed primly as always.

A rectangular box sat on the large table. Studying the matte black box, wrapped with an elegantly tied blood red brocade ribbon, you smiled brightly. You knew at once the identity of its sender.

Carefully, almost reverently, you untied the ribbon and lifted the box’s lid. Gasping excitedly at the sight of its contents, you pulled your gift from the box, lifting it high. The finest crimson fabric you had ever felt cascaded down from your grip, as you held aloft the most elegantly decadent gown you had ever seen.

A small white card fell to the floor from its hiding place within the folds of the gown. Folding the dress carefully and returning it to the box, you bent to retrieve the card. Written upon it in graceful black calligraphy was a simple message.

I eagerly await your arrival this evening, as my arm awaits the placement of your hand upon it. Kylo.

Raising the card to your nose, your eyes fell closed when his faint lingering scent met your nose.

Another gasp filled the room, more akin to a viper’s hiss. Rey looked at you venomously, eyeing you and your gift with dripping contemptuous envy.

It hardly mattered to you.

Nor did it matter to you when she turned her eyes to those of her brother, a silent exchange passing between them.

Gathering your gift, you rushed back to your room, ready to busy yourself by making your beauty shine as brightly as possible for your rendezvous with your handsome Admiral.

The Huxes had planned with you to depart once the sun had set. As evening approached, the sun dipping toward the western horizon, you made the last refinements to your appearance and donned your new dress. Material so fine had never before touched your body nor had a cut so flattering ever hugged your curves as the crimson gown did now.

Before leaving your room, you took a moment to admire yourself in the mirror. Seeing the result of your planning and preening made you smile. You looked truly beautiful. Although you may now be nothing more than a governess, tonight your beauty would set you above every other woman from even the highest social strata. Your mind drifted to Kylo, picturing how you would look paired with the darkly handsome man.

An ebullient skip in your step carried you swiftly from your room, down the winding staircase, and through the halls of the manor.

The hall and foyer were vacant. Nor was there any sound emanating from the sitting room or dining room.

Upon stepping outside to inquire of the footman your departure time, your heart sank down to your toes. The rays of the setting sun glinted off the spinning wheels of Hux’s carriage as it made its departure down the long road that led away from the manor.

They had left without you.

Tears stung at your eyes, but you refused to let them fall, refused to give them the satisfaction of making you cry. Your hands clenched into fists, shaking at your side, and your jaw tightened until you thought your teeth would crack.

Standing there, watching the carriage disappear into the dusk, you considered your options. You had nearly resolved yourself to saddle a horse and charge ahead, to arrive at the ball before their carriage. That idea was dismissed solely on the basis that arriving at a ball covered in dust and horse sweat would hardly be the way you wished to greet the only man who had ever made your pulse quicken.

Realizing that there was truly nothing that you could do to correct this wrong was the worst feeling of all. You were not a woman who had ever accepted being powerless, and here you were, subject to the petulant whims of your ‘superiors.’

No fairy godmother would come to your rescue tonight.

Staring down at your jeweled shoes and shoulders slumped, you returned back inside the manor.

Part of you wanted to rip your dress off, tear it to shreds, and never think of it again. Another part of you defiantly resolved to wear it for the evening, keeping your appearance pristine, so that when the Huxes returned, they would see for themselves how they were unable to crush your spirit and how your beauty put all others to shame. That part of you won.

Walking through the lonely manor, you visited the library, choosing a tale of adventure in which to lose yourself in the vivid escapades of a fictional character.

The warm light from inside the manor shone through its large windows, penetrating the darkness beyond its walls enough to illuminate part of the garden. The light was sufficient for you to read by its faint glow from your seat on the edge of the fountain in the comfortably cool air, surrounded by fragrant bouquets and beautiful landscaping.

The moon rose into the clear starry sky as you read, trying to escape the dreariness of your circumstance.

Raising your eyes from the pages of the book, you looked up to appreciate the moon’s beauty. When you returned your attention to your book, its pages were covered in shadow.

Turning your head to find the source of the mysterious shadow, you were startled by a monstrous wall of black.

Kylo’s broad hulking body both blocked the light from the manor and brightened your evening more than a midnight sun.

“Admiral Ren!” You exclaimed, jumping to your feet so fast that Kylo’s hands shot to your arms to steady you, warm and strong. “How? What are you doing here?”

“You promised me a dance,” Kylo told you in his rich baritone, the light of the moon reflecting in his eyes as he gazed upon you with a smile. “I’ve come to collect it.”

“You should be at the ball,” you scolded him softly. “At your ball.”

“I have no regard for such events, as you know.” Kylo shook his head as his hands trailed down your arms, one landing on the small of your back, the other taking your hand. “I hosted it exclusively for you. When I learned of your absence, I removed myself. In favor of seeking your company”

Your free hand lifted to rest on his dense chest, as he began to move with you. You had never danced like this before, alone with a single partner.

“I shall take you there now, should you wish it. To the ball,” Kylo told you, his voice soft. “Although, I greatly prefer this setting myself.” Kylo smiled down at you, moving gently with you to a silent tune.

“I am loathe to admit that you are correct,” you raised your chin to meet his eyes, “but I am in agreement with you.”

Kylo’s only response was the broadening of his smile. You felt weightless as he swayed and spun with you in his arms. As you let him dance you into a state of incandescent happiness, you could feel the power and strength emanating from his body. Moonlight glimmered throughout his mane of ebony hair, clinging to its strands like morning dew, and when you gazed into his eyes, they shone brilliantly back into yours.

“Manners dictate that I tell you how beautiful you look, but that simply will not do.” Kylo’s voice thrummed in his chest beneath your hand. “You look exquisite tonight, Y/N. Luminous with beauty. Lovely beyond compare.”

Beaming up at him with more elation than you had ever felt, you saw something new in his honeyed eyes that you had never before seen present in their depths. Kylo’s gaze was one of pure adoration, as he smiled down at you, holding you close and dancing with you under the stars.

Slowly, his head dropped toward yours, closing the distance between your faces until the tip of his nose brushed against your cheek next to your own. Your eyes fell shut as you turned just enough for your lips to brush against his.

When Kylo kissed you it felt as though every star in the night sky was pricking your skin, raising goosebumps across your flesh and sending a rush of heat through your body. His lips were plush and masterful, as he kissed you softly. Under the caress of his lips, you melted against him, desiring never to be outside of his embrace ever again.

Kylo kept his hold around you tight when he pulled back from your kiss. Chewing his lip, his dancing stilled as he regarded you for a moment before speaking.

“You must know...” Kylo’s voice trailed off before he took a heavy breath, continuing in a deeper tone, “Surely, you must know how fervently I love you. That I am drowning in the depths of my love for you.”

Your kiss-ripened lips fell open at his words, as you tried to blink away the moisture in your eyes.

“My only salvation is to allow myself to be immersed entirely in it,” Kylo continued, a plea in his tone. “Give me your heart, your hand, so that I may be engulfed, consumed, by my love for you. I shall endeavor every day to deserve you and to keep your lovely lips smiling for me.”

Words failed you but your arms did not as they flew around his neck, pulling him down to meet your lips in another searing kiss. Kylo was already making good on his promise, burning his adoration for you into your lips with his own.

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

Weddings are beautiful affairs. Few things are more delightful to witness than the celebration of love and unity that such a ceremony provides.

Especially, when that is a wedding such as yours. A grand and elegant affair, the largest and most anticipated of the year. Guests travelled from across the continent to see what sort of woman was able to tame the beast that was the formidable Admiral Kylo Ren. All assumed that the rumors of your beauty were exaggerated only slightly less than the rumors of Admiral Ren being rendered a doting and loving gentleman by your presence. All who made such assumptions were shocked to find the rumors and whispers were not only well founded but that they were, in fact, rather understated.

“Never since Hades found Persephone has one’s love for a woman brought so much light into the darkness of a frightening man’s heart.” As one elderly patroness of great esteem remarked.

The grounds of Kylo’s estate where your wedding took place were vast and sprawling, composed of forests, greenery, manicured lawns, and elegant gardens. His manor itself was the largest in the county, an imposing stone monstrosity befitting its owner. You mused that it would take you weeks to learn your way around your new home.

For your wedding, the most beautiful corner of his garden had been transformed into a romantic oasis of beauty and elegance. An arch of ivy and hundreds of vibrant red and pink roses had been erected at the head of his garden.

Kylo stood under it now, sweaty hands clasped rigidly in front of him, biting a hole through the inside of his cheek, as he awaited your arrival.

All eyes were on you when you walked down the aisle to give yourself fully to the man of your dreams. It is a pity, however, that no one but you watched Kylo, dashing and resplendent in his bespoke suit. Surely, no one would ever believe you, should you tell them, that Kylo’s eyes glistened wet as you walked toward him; that before taking your hands in his, he hastily reached to wipe some errant moisture away from his cheek.

Even more so than Kylo ensured your wedding was beautiful, he did everything within his considerable power to ensure your wedding night was magical.

When he led you into his bedroom, you were awestruck by its majesty. A spicy exotic scent that perfumed the air filled your nose as you took in the sprawling room.

Flickering golden light emanating from dozens of candles illuminated your new shared bedroom. The dancing hue of firelight blended with the rays of the moon streaming in through your expansive windows, their heavy brocade drapes tied open. An opulent bouquet of pastel pink and crimson red roses sat on the enormous admiral’s style desk that was positioned near the windows, perfect for Kylo to keep watch over the grounds of his imposing estate while seated behind it. The circumference of the bouquet was so large that you doubted if Kylo could even wrap his arms around it.

The room itself was lavish and decadent. Everywhere you looked was marble, gild, and molding. Even the vaulted ceilings were patterned in three-dimensional crown molding. The streaked marble floor was a few shades darker than the marble that formed a grand fireplace and mantle. A blooming fire filled the room with its glow and the soothing sounds of its crackles and sparks.

Of course, the centerpiece was the bed. You had never seen a bed so large or a canopy lifted so high by its intricately carved walnut pillars. Matching the drapes in form, the canopy, too, was tied open, draping elegantly around the pillars.

While your eyes feasted on every detail and nuance of the room, Kylo walked to his desk. He made quick work of undoing the buttons on his waistcoat as he walked. Shrugging his jacket away from his broad shoulders and following with his waistcoat, he draped both over the back of the leather chesterfield chair that sat behind his desk.

Kylo then studied the large bouquet. After picking the finest crimson rose he could locate, he walked back to you.

Holding the rose out for your approval, Kylo’s lips turned in a slight smile, as you leaned forward to inhale its perfume. Kylo took half a step closer when you raised your face from the flower, only inches separating your bodies.

Instead of lowering the rose, he brought it closer to your face. You sighed when the silky petals touched your lips. Looking up into Kylo’s eyes, they were darker and more ravenous than you had ever seen, as he delicately traced the bow of your pout with the rose.

With the closeness of your bodies, you could smell the masculine scent of him on the air mingling with the floral bouquet. Your eyes fell closed as the aromas consumed you.

When the rose fell away from your lips, its softness was replaced with the heat of Kylo’s mouth on yours. He kissed you deep and slow, taking his time as he relished in the feeling of your lips. A taste of the passion to come.

Your movements were more urgent when you reached to unbutton his shirt and push it away from his body. Breaking your kiss once he was freed from his shirt, you stared at the magnificent expanse of his chest and shoulders. Your hands ran across the dense planes and ridges of muscle, feeling it firm as marble under your touch. His pale skin was beautifully decorated with a spattering of scars that your fingers traced and caressed.

Kylo groaned with desire when your hand skimmed down his body to palm the intimidatingly large bulge through the fabric of his trousers. Once you clumsily worked his pants open, your hand dipped eagerly inside to feel his hot heavy cock, unable to connect your fingers around his girth.

“You are woefully overdressed, my love,” Kylo huffed affectionately, moving behind you to begin undoing the laces of your dress.

Standing at your back, Kylo brushed your hair aside, leaning down to inhale the fragrance of your locks before attaching his lips to the delicate skin of your neck. His mouth sent a rash of pleasurable goosebumps raising across your body as he carefully unlaced your dress and undergarments.

Warm strong hands and long thick fingers caressed you as he pushed your dress down your body and away from you to pool at your feet. Your back arched when his fingers trailed back up your thighs. Pressing your shoulders back against his broad chest, you felt it expand impossibly further as he breathed in your scent, pressing his large nose against your neck behind your jaw while he continued to kiss and lick at your skin.

A sigh of pleasure escaped your parted lips, praising the man at your back, “Kylo...”

Hot breath and plush lips contrasted with the sharp sensation of his teeth as gentle bites now mingled with the wet kisses he littered along the junction of your neck and shoulder.

Kylo’s left hand smoothed up the front of your body to your breast, teasing your nipple between his thumb and finger. Once you were peaked, he accomplished both squeezing your breast and rubbing his calloused palm across your nipple in one sensual repetitive motion.

The fingers of his right hand reached the top of your thigh, moving between them to skim the outside of your pussy, smearing the slick that had already collected there as his lips returned to your ear.

“You’re dripping for me, my darling.” His deep voice thrummed through you from your ear down to pool in your abdomen. You inhaled sharply when he slowly pushed two digits into you, spreading you open around his girthy fingers as they curled inside of you.

Moaning in pleasure, you dropped your head back onto Kylo’s shoulder as his thick fingers rubbed against your perfect hidden places.

Kylo’s mouth found your pulse point as he kissed and sucked at your neck. He could feel your pulse quicken under his lips as he pumped his fingers into your pussy. His cock pressed against your ass through his pants, its veins throbbing in time with your pulse.

Withdrawing his fingers from you, Kylo turned you to face him. His gaze raked your body hungrily, admiring every curve of your figure.

A coy smile on your lips, you backed toward the bed. Kylo paused only long enough to shove his pants down his muscular thighs. Your breath caught at the sight of his giant cock swinging free from its confines. The ridge running the long length of its underside swelled prominently like the veins that snaked its girth, its fat velvety tip shining with precum.

A proud smile turned his lips at your expression as he again closed the distance between your bodies.

Falling back onto the bed, your body bounced slightly on the mattress. Bending over you, he took a lingering moment to admire the sight of you, laid bare beneath him. His cock twitched and throbbed as his gaze fell to your pussy, glistening in the candlelight and flushed with your heightened arousal, a flower blooming for him alone.

“I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as you,” Kylo purred as he lowered himself over you, planting his hands on either side of your waist. “Nothing has ever compared to you.”

Dropping his head, he brought his lips to your breast. Lingering on your nipple, his tongue swirled around its peak while he sucked it lightly. His mouth then moved slowly down your body, trailing wet kisses as he traveled lower.

Pausing to grin up at you and meet your eyes, he placed a hot wet kiss to the top of your pussy. Your legs trembled as he lifted them over his shoulders. Lowering himself further, he parted your folds with a swipe of his aquiline nose, leaving its tip to rest against your clit as he kissed at your lips.

Talented indeed.

The feeling of Kylo’s tongue when he licked into you was superior to any sensation you had ever felt. The feeling of pure bliss he elicited so easily with the strokes of his tongue along your folds was like nothing you had ever experienced.

“You’re the finest delicacy I’ve ever tasted, my love,” Kylo groaned into you.

You were too enraptured to do anything but moan Kylo’s name. Your hands quickly found themselves tangled in his thick mane as your hips bucked subtly against his face of their own accord.

Your husband’s amber eyes held yours in a burning gaze as he licked as deeply into you as he could, his eyes only briefly falling closed when he savored the taste of you.

Merely the sight alone, of this dangerous and powerful man with his handsomely scarred face between your thighs, was almost enough to push you over the precipice.

The gravity of pleasure was beginning to pull you over the edge when he brought his tongue to trace his name across your clit, before sucking it between his lips. Your mouth fell open in a silent scream when he sucked at you heavily enough to hollow his cheeks.

“Oh, Kylo!” You moaned loudly, as you felt yourself plunging into a chasm of ecstasy, fisting his hair roughly as you fell.

A rush of heat flooded you, as you came on Kylo’s hungry lips and ardent tongue. He kissed and licked you ravenously as you pulsed and gushed, extending your pleasure as long as he could until your quivering subsided.

Lifting his mouth from your throbbing pussy, Kylo kissed at your inner thigh as he looked up at you, smiling proudly.

Even your thighs trembled with residual pleasure on either side of his face from the force of your orgasm. With an eager growl, he raised himself to crawl back up your body.

You felt boneless as he moved over you, caging you inside his finely muscled arms. Your hands fell away from his hair, one holding his neck as an anchor, the other falling limp above your head.

Lowering himself over you, Kylo’s lips met yours, his jaw working passionately as he smeared his adoration against your lips.

You felt more than heard a low growl rumble through his chest, reverberating through your entire body, as his massive cock sank into your silken heat. Even relaxed and dripping with arousal, the stretch of him was intense. You moaned as he filled you with every long thick inch until his hips were flush with you, your pussy just the perfect fit for him.

“Your pussy feels so fucking good,” Kylo groaned. “So tight on my cock.”

The feel of you made Kylo shudder with pleasure as he thrust his cock into you. You felt his muscles tensing beneath your hand at the feeling of being surrounded by your tight wet pussy.

Kylo bent to kiss you sweetly before his hips began rocking at first and then pounding into you, each thrust shoving your body further into the mattress beneath him.

Reaching his enormous hand to yours that was flung above your head, he laced his fingers through your own, connecting every possible part of your bodies together. His other hand supported his weight as his mouth returned to your neck, kissing and sucking marks into your skin.

“You’re intoxicating, my love,” he purred below your ear.

Kylo knew exactly how to elicit more pleasure from you, exactly how to angle his cock to hit the best spots inside of you with every slam of his hips. He withdrew nearly his full length with every thrust, pounding back into you with a force that made you shiver with his every movement. You could feel every ridge on his cock drag and rub against your stretched walls, sending blissful sparks shooting through your body with each heavy thrust.

Soon, your breath was coming in gasps as your pussy tightened around his perfect cock. Only a few more pumps of his cock were needed to spring the coil that had tightened almost painfully in your core. With each thrust, your pussy tried to suck him in further as he drove himself as deep inside of you as he could reach and as deep as you could possibly take.

“Cum for me, lovely,” Kylo growled deep and rich as he pounded into you. “I want to feel my wife cum all over my cock.”

At his command, you came a second time in heady waves of pleasure. An incoherent whine escaped your lips, while your pussy clenched around his thick cock in time with the pulses of your ecstasy.

Kylo’s head fell back, pointing toward the ceiling like a wolf howling at the moon. Groaning deep and wholly lost in pleasure of his own, he fucked your tightened pussy through your orgasm.

His eyes were wild with lust when he returned his gaze to you, his lips turned into a feral grin. Baring his teeth as he looked down upon you, his hair fell in jostling waves around his beautifully menacing visage.

Fucking into you more roughly, he chased his own pleasure. He propped both hands on either side of your head to keep from crushing you beneath his powerful body with the force of his motions.

Kylo’s arms began to tremble, as his cock throbbed inside of you. A thunderous growl tore through his chest and out of his throat when he came. You could feel his heat spreading into you as he pumped you full of the thick ropes of his cum, grinding his cock as deep into you as he possibly could.

He kissed and licked along the side of your neck and throat as his cock softened inside of you. Holding you tight beneath his heavy body, he kissed you for several long minutes, not wanting to separate your bodies.

Caressing you with his lips, he silently praised and soothed you when he finally lifted himself from above you, kissing his way down your neck. His mouth was hot and open when he reached your collarbone, leaving kisses along it as he withdrew from you.

Rolling onto his back, Kylo pulled you with him onto his chest, his arms wrapping around you to hold you tight against him. His lips grazed your hair as he inhaled the heavenly scent trapped in your waves.

As you lay, held in Kylo’s warm iron embrace, your head rising and falling with his chest as his breath steadied beneath you, you could scarcely believe your present happiness.

Raising your head from his chest, you propped yourself up beside him, tracing a pattern on his chest with your fingernails. Kylo’s large hand stroked your back gently as he looked up at you with a soft smile.

“Are you pleased with me?” You asked Kylo teasingly, knowing the answer with certainty.

“I realize now that I have never before known either happiness or pleasure until you, my beautiful darling,” Kylo promised, smiling up at you. His eyes glimmered in the firelight, shining with reverence as he regarded you lovingly.

“I shall always take pride in my role of providing you both happiness and pleasure,” you vowed.

“And you, my love,” he continued, his voice softer. “Have I pleased you?”

“So much so that I never wish to leave your embrace,” you assured him.

“You are my wife,” Kylo told you huskily. “My arms belong entirely to you. As does all of me. And you shall never leave my embrace unless you wish it.”

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

#valentine #regency!kylo #kylo ren x you #kylo ren x reader #kylo #best #fic #my stuff!#my writing

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thesquidkid · 3 years

Text

Lately I've been feeling so alone

Based of this post by @milady-bugg, thank you for letting me use it as inspiration for a fic 😁

This is sadder than intended, and full of Michael Guerin feels, hope you'll enjoy! This is also quite long (5.4k lmao), so you can read it on AO3 if you prefer.

Michael had isolated himself in his bunker, not letting anyone - even Sanders - in. At first, there were a few knocks, the door opening a few times and each time, Michael would slam it shut with his powers. He needed to process. It was one thing, to know that you were the son of a monster, another to face the man as he gave his own son a heart attack. Father of the year, right here!

So Michael had isolated himself between 4 walls, literally underground, where he could let all his anger free without hurting anyone. But the others couldn’t really understand that, and he couldn’t blame them. So everyone went on to live their lives, do what they were good at.

Isobel and Rosa were looking for Max, searching every cave, every abandoned house, turning every stone, using Rosa’s new found ability. Liz was making sure Maria stayed stable and healthy, her state hadn’t really decreased, but it hadn’t improved either. Whatever was going on, she seemed to continue the fight. Because Maria DeLuca was her own saviour, every damn time.

Michael didn’t have any news of Alex, just that he had found Kyle and that he was safe. He had hesitated calling Alex a few times, to compare notes on shitty father, but that wouldn’t have been fair to Alex, the person who tried every damn day to distance himself from his father, to fix what he broke, to be a better man.

So Michael was alone, in his bunker, with Sanders coming in every once in a while to complain that Michael wasn’t working, but both knew it was just an excuse to check up on him, make sure he was doing fine.

And really, he was. After the initial shock of finding out that his father was a copy of his brother (really, all those times Max had played his father, it was just in his DNA), where he completely and utterly lost it, he was now in a much calmer headspace. He had repositioned all the furniture that had been thrown against the walls, had done some extensive cleaning and given back a few tools and random parts he found to Sanders.

Although, he was still feeling empty. Had emptied his entire body, crying, shouting, wanting to break stuff with his powers, but knowing that if he did he would have to replace it somehow. And he was still broke. So he had to figure out another way of letting his emotions free, that didn’t involve breaking the little stuff he owned, and regretting it.

Instead, he focused on what he was good at. Had put all of the alien tech he had on the main workspace, fiddling with it at first, letting his hand move freely on it, feeling the way the tech reacted to him. From then, he realised that he still didn’t completely know what the tech could do, had assumed it was only part of the ship, but the recent events, with Kyle’s radio and Jones’ sword, he was getting curious as to what he could do, with his imagination and mechanical skills.

This is where it all started, with the alien glass and his tools, letting his hands move as they desired, his mind still busy thinking about - well, everything that happened in the last few days, from Jones being his father, to Max maybe still nearly dying, to Maria being in a coma, and to Alex being God knows where doing God knows what.

As he thought about his friends, his family, his people, his fingers were doing something similar. This is how he found himself, after three days in the bunker, barely sleeping, not at all in contact with the outside world - only going out to take a shower, get some food, and use the toilet in the airstream - with a bunch of glass objects, clearly designed for his friends, and not knowing what to do with all of it. Well, he knew, but that meant going out and seeing them, their faces, probably full of pity, no one knowing how to address the elephant in the room - Jones.

He was building up the courage to get out and gift his creations as peace offering, or whatever they wanted them to be, when he was disturbed by a knock on the latch, then it opened, followed by a very familiar voice that he didn’t expect to hear any time soon.

“Look, Guerin, I get that you want to be alone right now, and uh, yeah -” Alex Manes said, passing a hand across the face, fighting the want to jump down that ladder, understanding more than anyone what being the son of a monster felt like, and even then, neither of their experiences were comparable. “I’m just here to tell you that, ah, Maria woke up, and uh, she’ll be staying in the hospital for a little longer, so uh, yeah that’s what I came here to say.” he finished, and stood up from where he was crouching above the opened latch, looking down in the bunker but not seeing more than the ladder and light. He could also slightly distinguish Michael’s shadow, glowing under all the lights he guessed were alien.

Michael thought Alex had left, and nearly closed the latch using his powers, when he heard the last few words, barely a whisper, but clear as day to him. And he knew that Alex knew that he heard them. “I’m here. If you ever want to talk, or whatever. I’m here for you, Michael.” And with that, Alex left, understanding the peace of being alone with your thoughts, and knowing that Michael would come out whenever he was ready to.

And he was ready to come out. Soon after he heard Alex’s car leave the junkyard, he rushed to his airstream to take a shower and change clothes, taking with him the glass object he had made for Maria. When Sanders saw him leave the airstream, showered, dressed in clothes that hadn’t been worn the past three days, smiling, he couldn’t stop the teasing comment, “If I knew getting your boy here would get you out, I’d have done it long ago.” Despite the comment, he was glad that Michael was feeling better, and even more glad to hear the “Not my boy. Maria’s awake,” that came from Michael as he drove away, leaving Sanders in the junkyard, a smile on his face. The kid was starting to realise that family wasn’t the blood coursing through your veins, but the people you choose to surround yourself with. He hoped Ms. Nora would be proud of her boy, wherever she was.

Michael drove to the hospital at a respectable speed, not wanting to get arrested the day Maria woke up - she would never stop making fun of him about it. He nearly ran towards her room, stopping only at the open door, taking in the people in the room. Liz was at the foot of Maria’s bed, holding a board with papers clipped to it - most likely Maria’s health results - talking with her hands, a large smile on her face. Rosa was sitting on the bed, next to Liz, exchanging side smiles with Maria, her entire body more relaxed than she had been since Maria’s coma. Isobel was standing to the side of the room, leaning against the wall, facing the door. She was the first to see Michael, making him smile back, and promising her to talk and hang out, by their psychic bond. Finally, he turned his eyes to the head of Maria’s bed, where the two Manes men who had gone against their father were sitting, Greg leaning against the back of the chair, a hand holding Maria’s and the other going up and down on her arm in a reassuring sign, Alex on the other side sitting with his elbows on his knees, chin resting on one hand, apparently the only one truly listening to what Liz had to say.

He cleared his throat, not knowing how else to announce his presence. “Mikey!” came the synchronised shout from the Orthecho sisters, “what took you so long, dude? We texted you ages ago!” Rosa teasingly asked, Michael not bothering with an answer and simply sticking his tongue out to her, earning him a roll of the eyes from Liz and Isobel, a full on laugh from Rosa and a slight chuckle from Alex.

“How you feeling, DeLuca?” he started to ask, his voice clear with worry, but remembering many of their conversations, he continued with something he knew she would prefer to him worrying too much, “I might check out some other bar if you stay out of the game for too long.”

And he seemed to have been right, as Maria giggled and stood up straighter, “Oh I’m not too worried you’ll be right back at the Pony in no time Guerin,” she said smiling at him, which Michael copied. “And,” she added, pointing her finger in his direction, “you still owe me 15,09 bucks, don’t think I’ve forgotten.”

Michael shook his head, of course she wouldn’t forget the drinks he had during the last year that he hasn’t yet repaid in services. Since it was the pandemic, they both didn’t have much money so they agreed that whatever drinks he ordered would be paid back in free car or bar maintenance, and vice versa. As if they weren’t already cutting deals for each other.

Feeling all eyes on him, especially since he had gone AWOL for the last three days, Michael cleared his throat once more and took a few hesitant steps towards Maria, ignoring everyone in the room but her. “I, uh, made you something?” he said, cursing himself mentally for making it sound like a question, “here,” he put his hand in his jacket pocket and took out four little alien glass hairpins, ‘it’s alien glass, I thought you might like them.”

He looked at her to see some tears in her eyes as she took the hairpins and observed them in her hands. “They’re, Michael, those are amazing ,” she said with so much sincerity that Michael was taken aback by it, “Thank you.” she added with a smile.

In the end Michael sat on the floor against the wall, listening closely to Maria talking about what had happened with Jones. He felt at ease, surrounded by his friends, still feeling the weight of Kyle and Max missing, but everyone enjoying this small light in what had felt like a week of pure darkness.

Being with Maria, giving them his creation, had given him the courage to talk to the others, and hand them their gifts. He went to see Liz, one day, as she was still in Kyle’s office, observing scans of Maria’s brain. He pointedly ignored those pictures, deciding that he wasn’t going to think of what his father could have done to Maria and her brain, knowing the guilt he would feel if he did. Instead he stood in front of Liz and handed her two teardrop earrings made out of alien glass.

She stopped in the middle of her sentence, and stared up at Michael who smiled awkwardly, her mouth agape as she took in the beauty of the jewelry. “Mikey, wow, I - I don’t know what to say.” she said, looking back and forth between the earrings and Michael.

“It’s nothing, Ortecho, really, I had glass laying around and -” he started to say but was interrupted by Liz. “Thank you.” she nearly shouted, standing up and bending him in a tight embrace, which he returned gladly. He then held up Liz’s phone as a mirror as she put them on and admired herself, making both of them laugh, before reality caught up, and they both needed to focus on Max, Kyle, and Maria. Liz kept the earrings the entire day, and wears them on any occasion she can, the alien colorful glass going with a multitude of clothing combinaisons.

The next person Michael gave a present to was Rosa. She was at the junkyard to train her powers when he surprised her with alien windchimes. He quickly used his powers to hang them up while she had her eyes closed and let the wind do the rest of the work. She opened her eyes in admiration of whatever sound she had heard and turned towards the source of it. “Woa,” she said under her breath as she walked slowly towards them, until finally touching them with her hands, letting the windchimes sing under her fingers, the alien glass slightly reacting.

“You made those?” she asked, turning around to Michael. He nodded, smiling, feeling quite proud of his work. “The sound they make,” continued Rosa, turning once again to look at the windchimes, Michael walking closer to her, “it’s - I don’t think I can compare it to anything.” He nodded once more, encouraging Rosa to continue, “It’s like a melody. I can hear the wind, but it’s different, it’s beautiful.”

She leaned against Michael who was now standing slightly behind her, Michael instinctively putting her arm around her shoulders, the two of them standing in the middle of the junkyard, admiring the alien glass windchimes Michael had made for Rosa. She would come buy the junkyard many times, listening at the way the wind circled through the windchimes, admiring their beauty.

After that it all happened really quickly; Rosa and Isobel found Max, Michael and Liz had been called to the rescue (Jones had apparently regained his body and vanished), followed by Kyle waking up, Greg and Maria rushing to some ranch in the middle of nowhere to get Kyle and Alex. Eventually, all this craziness died down for a bit, Max was hiding in Alex’s cabin in the woods, since Jones had used his body to commit crimes, he couldn’t really go grocery shopping without getting arrested, and Kyle had regained his job at the hospital. Michael seriously wondered how he hadn’t been fired yet, but he wasn’t complaining, at least someone in their group seemed to know what he was doing with his life.

He made his way back to the hospital, except this time to see the one person he swore he would never visit as a kid. A doctor. But not just any doctor, a doctor who was quickly becoming a good friend of his, which he obviously wasn’t going to admit. He walked in the corridors, knowing the place quite well by now, and knocked on Kyle’s office door. A tired “Come in” answered and he opened the door.

As soon as Kyle saw who was on the other side of the door, he groaned and nearly snapped, thinking that maybe now would be the time to get a new group of friends that didn’t have alien emergencies every four hours. Michael must’ve sensed what Kyle was about to say (something along the lines “I don’t care that the world is burning because of some alien invasion, I need sleep! And no, a coma doesn’t count.”) because he raised his hands in surrender, a smug smile on his face.

“Relax, no alien life or death situations, or at least not that I know of.” This had the expected effect, Kyle relaxed in his chair, crossed his arms on his chest and raised an eyebrow at Michael, silently asking him why he was here then. Michael closed the door behind him and sat opposite Kyle, on one of the patients chairs. Still smiling, he took out of his pocket two glass paperweights that he delicately put on the desk for Kyle to grab, just as delicately.

Kyle was silent as he turned the paperweights between his hands, admiring all the different angles, reflecting his desk light on the walls and papers he had on his desk. While Kyle was busy, Michael slowly put his hand in his other jacket pocket and took out a glass snow globe with a little cardboard UFO, two little plastic aliens, and pink fake snow. He put it on the desk and waited for Kyle to notice, after having put the paper weights on top of two small piles he had.

When he saw the snow globe, his face lit up with astonishment, and he looked up to Micheal, once again speechless. “I know what it’s like to see a doctor as a kid and being scared,” Michael said, not looking at Kyle but at the little snowball, “and I know it’s not the same, but uh-”

“I’m sure the kids will love it, Michael.” Kyle said, honestly. He took the globe and shook it, chuckling at the way the UFO dangled, the way the little Aliens wiggled and the way the pink snow fell on everything. “Thank you.”

Michael shrugged, “Consider it payback,” he said, with a sincere smile this time, “for all the times you saved our asses.” And with that, he stood up, waved awkwardly at Kyle (who waved back just as awkwardly) and left.

Kyle took care of the paperweights, who in reality weren’t so heavy, but never broke as they fell. All the kids that came by his office would stare at the little snow globe, admiring it, feeling calmer and safer during their appointment.

Isobel called Michael over the next day. She said she wanted to go shopping for Max, since he was stuck away and was getting bored (how he had already read all the books Alex gave him, was a mystery to Michael, but he supposed when there really wasn’t anything else to do…)

Michael ran on her doorbell and let himself in, using his powers to unlock the door. He made his way to the living room and sat on the couch, looking at the decorations of Isobel’s walls. This house felt more homey than the one she had shared with Noah, there were paintings on the walls he knew Rosa had made, a few old and useless metallic pieces he had turned into sculptures and decorations laying around in various places. But what was really different was the huge bookshelf, books varying from science fiction (for Michael), to inspiring novels (for Isobel) to fantasy and romantic (for Max), indicating that this wasn’t just her home for her, but that her brothers were welcomed here too.

Michael put on the table the necklace he had made, the pendant made out of alien glass and the chain from some silver he had laying around the junkyard, and waited for Isobel to come out. When she did, she smiled at Michael and sat next on his left, facing him. “Okay, so I’ve been thinking, and our brother isn’t really the best cook so -”, she started to say, but cut herself as she saw what was on the table.

She grabbed the necklace between her fingers, and looked to Michael, who was leaning against the couch, an arm slung over it, a bright smile on his face. He winked at her, when he saw that Isobel was looking at him, and she leaned against him, her heard on his shoulder, Michael folding his arm around her.

“It’s beautiful, Michael,” Isobel said, emotions strong in her voice, “thank you.” Mihael rubbed his hand on her shoulder, not really knowing what to say, but wanting her to know that he would always be there.

Isobel wiggled the necklace in front of his face, Michael taking it with a chuckle as he attached it around her neck. The two of them stayed like that, leaning their heads against each other, in silence, in peace. Eventually, Isobel stood up, hurrying Michael out the door and into his truck to go shopping for Michael. And if they were a bit later than what they had told Max, arriving with humid eyes, no one made a comment about it, Max glad to have some company and more books to read.

Michael went back to see Max at least once a day, staying for a few hours or a couple of minutes, always checking in. The two had a lot to talk about, especially the elephant in the room - Max being a clone of Michael’s father.

Michael found himself enjoying those little brotherly moments, and more so the one after they had done the whole Jones subject. Michael would make a few comments about Liz staying in Roswell, to which Max would respond with questions about Alex.

“You know,” said Max on the third day Michael came when they were sitting around a fire pit, enjoying a few beers, after Michael had strongly avoided any topic about Alex, while also admitting to having some feelings (which Max knew of already, subtility wasn’t Michael’s - and Alex’s - strong suit), “this is the first time you and I have talked about dumb highschool crushed together.”

Michael chuckled at that, a hint of sadness that Max quickly brushed, “Hey no, the past is the past man, I’m just saying that I’m glad we’re finally talking, you know? Feels like we’re finally not hiding stuff.” And Michael raised his beer bottle at that. It was indeed the first time that they were both completely open, no more secret. They both were at fault on that, but as Max had said, the past was the past, no point reminiscing, when you could focus on making the future better.

With those thoughts in mind, he took out of his pocket an alien glass bolo tie with little turquoise end caps on the ties, and handed it to Max, who took it. They were both hypnotised by the way the flames reflected on the glass, the way the colors seemed to dance in the night.

Max didn’t say anything, didn’t have too. He put his beer on the floor next to him, stood up and motioned to Michael to do the same. Once they were both standing, facing each other, they hugged deeply, strongly. In the end, all the other bolo ties Max owned got mostly replaced by this one, being worn at every occasion he could, always with his brother in mind.

Michael had two more presents to offer, and was sitting in his bunker, not knowing how to approach either of the people they were made for. Luckily for him, he didn’t have to figure one out, as the person in question opened the latch and climbed down the stairs with a grunt. “Kid,” came Sander’s voice as soon as his feet reached the ground, “think you can use that brain of yours to build a lift here? Getting too old for this.”

“Well no one is forcing you to come, old man,” Michael replied, although there was no true bite to it. In fact, he quite enjoyed the old man’s occasional visits, even if all he did was complain. Michael turned around to face him, “Everything all good up there?” he asked, wondering why Sanders had come down. Sanders just nodded at him and took the last steps for him to arrive at Michael’s level, leaning his hands on the workspace. “What you working on, kid?”

“Uhm, actually -” started Michael, now that Sanders was here, might as well give him the present, right? “I got something for you.”

Using his powers, he approached a little metallic sunflower he had made from scrap pieces found here and there in the junkyard, and had made the center out of alien glass. The whole thing was attached to a chain to be held up against the door to Sanders house.

Sanders grabbed the sunflower and looked at it intensely with his good eye, remembering the colors Ms Nora’s creations were, seeing them once again on that little sunflower. Neither said anything, nor made a step forward to hug, neither being used to physical comfort, but they both knew how much that gesture meant.

To Michael, it meant acceptance, family, a sunflower for all the sunflowers they grew at the junkyard over the pandemic. To Sanders, it meant pride, it meant having kept his promise to Ms Nora to take care of his son, it meant family.

The sunflower was attached by Sanders' door, the alien glass glowing under the desert sun, always turning to face it, like all the many sunflowers they had in their field.

Which led Michael to one last gift. And if he was being honest with himself, the one he dreaded the most. Also the one that took him the most time and the most research. A gift for Alex. Taking his courage in both hands, he sent a quick text to Alex before he could have any chance to doubt himself. Free right now? I think I might take you up on your offer.

He didn’t have long to wait, as his phone buzzed almost immediately, On my way. Be there in 30 . He rushed back to his airstream, ignoring once more Sanders’ comment about getting ready for his boy , to get changed and put beers in the fridge. He opened the door of the airstream just as he heard Alex’s car arrive, and sat on one of the chairs, two bears in hand, while he made his way over. Alex sat on a chair next to him, accepting the beer, in silence.

“I heard you were busy while in your underground lair, judging by the gifts I’ve been seeing pop up.” Alex said with a smile, taking a sip of his beer, turning his head to look at Michael.

Michael frowned his eyebrows, “I thought you were busy out of town?” he asked, barely stopping the bite from escaping his lips. Alex looked sheepishly away from Michael at that, “I’ve been trying to not distance myself too much,” she shrugged, his tone lowering, until being a simple whisper at the end, “to not drive myself crazy.” He shivered at whatever thought was going through his mind, then straightened his body and looked up to Michael, “Anyway, you said you’d take me up on my offer, I’m assuming you want to talk?” he asked, forcing a smile that Michael didn’t buy.

“The hell is going on with you, Alex?” Michael asked, with a bit too much force that he immediately took back at Alex’s defeated look, “First you tell me you’d burn down the world for me, then that you don’t want me anywhere you or whatever, and then you end up finding Kyle in some creepy farm, which might I add is the exact same farm you got stabbed in .” He took a breath, and continued, “So yeah, Alex, I want to talk, I want you to tell me what’s going on with you.” He stopped at looked at Alex, who didn’t really seem like he wanted to say anything, so he lowered his voice, taking back all the bite and anger he could, channeling how much he cared and worried about Alex, “You said you were there for me, it’s a two way street you know. I’m here for you too.”

That seemed to do the trick, as Alex’s teary eyes met Michael’s, who wanted nothing more that to wipe his thumb across his cheeks, to take away the fear and the pain he could see in those eyes. But he didn’t, they weren't there yet.

Alex took a deep, shaky breath and told Michael everything, from quitting the Air Force (getting a discharge with full honors, Michael could tell the pride in his voice as the last ten years of Alex’s hadn’t been totally useless), to joining Deep Sky, to the Lockhart machine, to his boss not being who he said he was, to discovering that the Lockhart machine had driven people crazy, to the reason he had been recruited by deep sky. After his explanations, he fell quiet, looking at Michael, not truly knowing what to expect.

What he didn’t expect however, was for Michael to get up hastily, move the airstream and rush to his lair, leaving Alex sitting on his chair, a half empty bottle of beer in one hand, tears in his eyes. But Michael came back, just as fast as he had left, holding some piece of alien tech mixed with metal in his hands. It took a moment for Alex to register what that object was, and once he did, he widened his already teary eyes in surprise, his mouth was slightly agape, his eyebrows were frowned, as he searched for the words to express his confusion, not wanting to get his hopes high. On the other hand, there wasn’t a multitude of people Michael could’ve made an alien prosthetic leg for.

Michael approached slowly with the leg in his hands, handing it to Alex once he was close enough. “I uh- I made you this.” he said, clearing his throat, while Alex was examining the leg, “It’ uh, lighter than the one you have now, but it’s also more resistant and, well, you could really bludgeon someone with it, if uh - if you wanted to.”

Alex kept looking at the leg, not saying anything, which Michael interpreted as him not being interested. “You don’t have to take it, if you don’t like it. I also made you this,” he rushed out, taking a braided leather cuff with a piece of alien glass as a stamp and handing it sheepishly to Alex, who was looking at him, with the same teary look he had for the past few minutes. Michael took a deep breath and sat back down, “Look,” he breathed out, “what I’m trying to say, Alex, is I’ve got your back, okay? I’ll build you whatever you need, I’ll go wherever you want me to, I’ll - I care about you.”

As Alex opened his mouth to say something, Michael raised his hand to interrupt, and continued, “And I’m the son of a literal dictator whose powers I’ve inherited. I can defend myself. And I know that you wanna protect me - I do too - but maybe we could, I don’t know, protect each other by being there?”

Alex, whose tears were now running free on his face, bent down to take his right shoe off, under Michael’s curious gaze, who could also feel tears running down his cheeks. Alex raised his trousers and took off his prosthetic, before grabbing the alien one and putting it on. He knew the size would fit, knew that Michael had worked hard on it, had probably had the idea of making him a new leg from the moment they met again, in front of that same airstream, under completely different circumstances.

They had gone a long way from that day, and they still had some more to do, but Michael was right. Maybe this time, they could be there, together, to take that new road, to protect and take care of each other, together. Before standing up, Alex attached the bracelet Michael had made around his left wrist, admiring the colors of the alien glass under the desert sun.

Alex stayed at the junkyard for some more time, until his alarm rang, informing him that he should head back to the Lockhart machine. Taking a deep breath, he turned to Michael, asking him if he wanted to come with, and together they drove to the farm, down a road they had both taken together once, but this time Alex wasn’t bleeding out.

After that day, Alex still went to the VA in Albuquerque for meds prescriptions and physical therapy once in a while, but all the repairs that needed to be done for his prosthetic, all the improvements, were done by Michael, in his lair, under Alex’s curious gaze, who wanted to know everything about Michael’s ideas.

After all his gifts, Michael found that he still had some alien glass laying around in his bunker. So he decided to turn it all into little rings, wanting to distinguish as much as he could from the weaponizing of the alien glass, like Jones had. Eventually, all of little friend group, all of his people, owned a ring.

And when the day came, when the fight with Jones reached its last stretch, Michael was ready. He didn’t have an alien sword like Jones had, but he had something much more. A group of people, by his side, all sharing his strength through the little alien gifts. His people, his family.

Lately I've been feeling so alone Can someone give the antidote to me so I can Finally understand where I belong

#i am soft for michael guerin #he has people 🥺#michael guerin #alex manes #maria deluca #liz ortecho #max evans #isobel evans #rosa ortecho #walt sanders #rnm fic #roswell new mexico #rnm #lyrics from Head Up by the score #thesquidkid writes

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lambourngb · 4 years

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Get me out of here - places to go when canon is complicated

It’s Day 3, time to celebrate those stories that I turn to when I can’t deal with canon, or when I don’t have the emotional energy to untangle all the emotions I have for what’s going on in canon. Alternative universes, the safe harbor for us. Below are a mix of rewrites of canon, remixes of canon, or out right not even set in Roswell- to fill every type distance you want from canon- from near to far.

The first story I’m reccing is a long one,- so pardon the very long review below.

my love is a life taker by @jocarthage (267,600) So one day, Jessi popped into discord to share a dream she had about timetravel and being able to save yourself in the past basically, particularly Alex getting to give his baby-self a hug, and we all went, “holy shit that’s a cool fic idea please write it!” and really reality sucks right now with quarantine and whatnot, so what better thing to do than follow a WIP? I can’t tell you how badly I needed to something to look forward to as I was staring down a milestone birthday with all my plans in tatters, and this story filled the void.

Okay- now about the actual story itself, the world building about time travel in this is incredible but easy to absorb. Jessi dumps you straight into the action in chapter 1 with Alex, at 28, assassinating an Iraqi intelligence agent in 2009 that averts a bomb that was planned on US forces. You learn so much about both the story-universe and Alex here- one, that even dressed in mask and killing someone, Alex is kind and uses morphine as an overdose and has arranged for his victim’s family to be compensated, you learn that time agents can only visit places they themselves have visited during that time, and Jesse Manes had dragged his son, who was ‘time aware’ to every place of war and ruin on the planet before he was 18 and that, Alex’s victim, even as he’s dying, recognizes what a shit childhood Alex had but that Alex doesn’t.

The next part is where Alex’s time crystal malfunctions, instead of returning him to 2018, it takes him to 1998 where an 8 year old Michael is getting beaten by his foster dad and Alex, out of his time line mysteriously, visible to only Michael, saves him, but only temporarily. We all know with abusers, until you’re out of the house, it’s just a matter of time before the next beating. However, with one act, Alex at 28 starts putting into action (even though he doesn’t recognize it at the time) the steps to save his own life as he works to save Michael from his childhood. Each mission, each jump through time, Alex meets Michael, always a year apart and only for 1000 seconds, or almost 17 minutes. Jessi takes you through some of the darkest points of US foreign policy, only as Alex takes control of his life, he also starts to change the missions, and change the world. The details of places, people, food, etc are authentic from the author’s experience, if you don’t click on the links at the end of the chapters and disappear down google-rabbit holes about the events in history, well- you’re made of stronger stuff than I am. There are lots of heavy subjects discussed, but there’s always care and honesty behind the intent. The way Michael grows, the way Alex grows, and of course the journey to the present time when they could be together? It’s like pining on steroids but it’s so wonderful. I wish I could pull out one thing that I loved in particular in this story- but it’s impossible, only to say that I love that I could disappear completely within the confines of ‘my love is a life taker’ knowing that I would be kept safe by the author, that goodness prevails.

 when I’m oceans away by @neapeaikea (28,000) this is a post-2008 shed canon-divergent AU where Alex Manes, after the best/worst night of his life bolts from Roswell and leaves Michael behind. 10 years later, on the hunt for a child conceived at Caulfield, Michael walks into a youth home in California and finds Alex. A few things, I love that this author writes an Alex who didn’t join the Air Force but still lost a leg, I don’t really enjoy disability erasure in modern AUs (I’m better at looking past that in historical or sci fi aus) . It’s pretty clear after five minutes that the connection between the two men is still there and strong despite anger, secrets and guilt. The teasing and flirting between them is great but so is the acceptance of baring their vulnerabilities. I loved the care they take with each other, and the tie in to an alien child is just so perfect.

Crucibles (series) @ninswhimsy (9,000)- I’m cheating and naming both here, but obviously nin had her finger on the pulse of fandom, by writing crusade-set queer stories before The Old Guard ever boomed into a fandom from the movie. I was lucky enough to trade DMs over the ideas of holiness and the body, and how Alex would have treated himself, certain of his doomed soul, and how Michael would have responded in turn. It’s no secret I love everything Nin writes, but this series stuck in my mind. I will be drifting off to sleep, and think about Alex walking through the ancient city of Aleppo, ready to be done with his burden and Michael there with soft palms and scented oil, and boom! I reach for my kindle to re-read it.

no regrets if we walk this new road by @andrea-lyn (97,000) This author has written so many amazing AUs, some quite far away from canon events like her Mummy AU or her Avengers AU, but I have to say, I have a very soft-spot for this rewrite of season 1 for a lot of reasons. I mean, it’s 2020, so my appetite for Cop!Max is definitely at an all-time low, so the idea of exchanging his job with Kyle’s was extremely appealing. At least Kyle is a POC holding the badge, not a white man like our canon. Anyway, politics aside, this story is special to me for the scorching good Isobel/Kyle relationship that develops, the way Isobel sharpens herself into a lawyer (not an event planner) and how Michael rounds his own edges off in turn by becoming a teacher (and being secretly married). Each deviation from canon made complete sense once you alter the way Rosa’s death affects the pod squad, and how they covered it up ripples out toward Liz, Kyle, etc.

 Layer on layer, down on down by @dotsayers (9,440) I love sci-fi tropes, especially time-loops, but they are incredibly hard to write (I know, I abandoned mine a while ago) so this story stands out because of just how well done the execution is and also the angst. Michael in a time loop about Caulfield, like how great/agonizing is that? The plot is so good, how it ties into Caulfield and why it happens in the first place, like wow. The care, and the hurt, and the fatigue that Michael has in this story, oh you just want to wrap him in a blanket. There’s a tiny throwaway line about how one of the first things Michael learned to do in foster care was to make himself heavy and unmovable- and you instantly picture kid!Michael not wanting to be removed from a house - like my heart broke! The structure of the story, with the background of his just how much he loves Alex but how badly it hurts to see him die, really makes this study of 1x12 special. Along with all the angst, there’s tiny gallows humor lines, so am I weird, that I laughed through a couple of these scenes even as Michael kept dying?

Petty pace by @aewriting (11,600) Aewriting has a couple of stellar AUs, so trying to pick just one was difficult, but I rather feel this story is sadly underappreciated it (mind the tags). It was a remix of @iwontbeyourmedicine ‘s fantastic ‘Freaky Friday’, where the humans and aliens swap roles. Alex in the role of Michael basically was something I had never pictured until Ly wrote that story, and now feel utterly changed by it, especially with this backstory- the idea of Jesse Manes bringing a foster child home? Incredibly well done because there’s an off the charts level of menace in this story. The way Jesse watches Alex, who at first mistakes it for how a pedophile might size up a victim, but then catches on quickly that it’s so much worse in a lot of ways. And Alex is such a loner in the beginning, even as he reconnects with his pod siblings Liz and Maria, he’s still planning on keeping his head down and leaving Roswell far behind. Like freedom is literally the only thing he can conceive of for himself, no real dreams outside of that until Michael slips under his defenses. I probably could have saved this story for angst day- because the second half of the story, if you don’t sob while you read it, then I dunno. It’s helpful to read Ly’s story right afterward as a reminder that things do get better for Alex ten years later. In a lot of ways this story is sadder than canon (though there’s no murder of Rosa/4th alien), I’m comforted that at least Alex has Liz in the aftermath, alike in heartache in a way that Michael didn’t have because of the pact he and Max made about Isobel in canon.

Unexpected tidings by @bestillmyslashyheart (24,800) Another rewrite of canon, that explores a couple of very interesting questions, like what would it look like if Michael never made it back to Roswell as a kid but met Alex by chance in 2008? Imagine the cornerstone of the Lost Decade love affair revolving around the mundane questions of a long distance relationship that wasn’t built on the pain of the shed or Rosa’s death? Marlo writes an amazing take on this, that is both real and deep with the normal couple problems, before introducing that spanner in the works of oh yeah, aliens are real. With Michael on the east coast, and Alex finishing off his service in Roswell, Project Shepherd still entangles Alex with Liz bringing him in on the secret in hopes that with his hacker skills he can track down the third alien child that Max and Iz remember so they can warn him. As interesting as the current plot was, I found myself absolutely revitted the slow piecemeal reveals that Marlo doled out about Alex and Michael’s relationship over time. (I also while rereading this recently got very nostaglic for season 1 Alex who didn’t trust Jesse as far as he could toss him.)

Don’t Punish Me For What I Feel by @winged-fool (3,600) Tarsus IV AU - another wonderful author with a catalog of great AUs, both sci-fi and dark, and honestly it was difficult to narrow it down to one. This story, well in 2009 I was a hard core Trek movie fan, so when I saw a trek-fusion story appear, I knew I would love it just on that basis. The thing is, this gave me Michael as the Captain, a surprisingly rare role for these space fusions, even though genius level repeat offender Jim Kirk and genius level repeat offender Michael Guerin seems pretty married in my mind as a connection. As a Tarsus-like story, all the tags are well earned by the story that Alex finally shares with Michael. It hit on so many levels, the hurt/comfort level for sure, but also to have a story where Michael is this stalwart protector of Alex was really nice to find.

this isn’t the ‘holiday best friends championship’ by @usbournejez (6,090) alright to leave this on a lighter note, my final AU rec is this masterpiece by Kieran that was part of Malex Secret Santa gift fics- and what a gift it was to all of us! The way she writes established Malex is first-rate, because she always includes their canon-levels of snark/sharpness but it’s never directed at each other and that’s something I love. Here we have Alex, where we learn in just a few short lines, is a huge control freak but has the extremely big emotional handicap, and that’s his love/fondness/deserve to caretake Michael. Emotional cactus Alex who is soft for Michael? Love it. There are small drops of angsty backstory peppered in this, but really that just fuels just how sweet and wonderful the main theme of the story- which is Alex might hate the whole world at large, he loves, protects and worships Michael (and vice versa). As someone who can bake cookies, but that’s about it, I was still enthralled with the baking details and this story has never failed to encourage me to eat dessert before dinner basically.

#rnmcreate2020 #malex fic #roswell new mexico #malex fic rec #malex #MALEX FEELS #michael guerin #alex manes #fandom positivity #worship our great authors in this fandom #can we pretend it's Wednesday?#a day late and a dollar short #working on today's now!

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arielana · 4 years

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RNM Creators Week 2020

Ok, well I’m gonna give this a try. I normally only reblog stuff so actually participating in an event is making me nervous lol.

Before I started watching Roswell NM I’d never been on Tumblr, had never heard of AO3 and had never even read fanfic. Now, a year later, I have a serious AO3 addiction, check for new fic every day and have my own regularly updated list of the fics I love the most and keep going back to over and over again. So I have to take this opportunity to give some love back, as ”just” a reader.

Day 1 - Dynamics

This will mainly be Malex-centric stories, I have no other choice. They occupy a permanent spot in my brain now to an extent that I’ve never experienced before. It’s just how it is.

Narrowing this down to a few authors/fics has been really difficult, but here it goes...

The Cost of Greatness – @bestillmyslashyheart, @iwontbeyourmedicine /reachedthebitterend

Beginning with the exchange ”Don’t act like you love me all of a sudden” ”Are you fucking stupid?” just straight away sets the stage for a lovely satisfyingly angsty rollercoaster of emotions with an ”us against the world”-feeling that I am a complete sucker for.

Speaking of dynamics, this not only has a Malex dynamic I love, it is also a great duo of authors. They have some amazing stuff, both separate and as co-authors and I’ll happily just spend hours scrolling through their work. To name just a few pieces of brilliance: The red name, Alex Manes: Secret agent man, The last cut is the deepest by @bestillmyslashyheart and truth serum-ish (series), the person that you’d take a bullet for is behind the trigger by @iwontbeyourmedicine /reachedthebitterend

To raise a child – @haloud, @maeglinthebold /MayGlenn

This childhood AU is a really great series and I am immensely looking forward to continuing reading the 3rd part. It is so interesting to see the dynamics between the characters in this different, but still similar world.

This is also another set of authors who have put out some great fics together as well as separate. A lot of it is distinctly more adult content, but with really great characterizations and lots of emotions. Thoroughly enjoyable!

Hush - @prouvaireafterdark

Repeating myself, but this author is another one where again everything is fantastic! When it comes to nsfw I love, love, love their Malex dynamic – as it is demonstrated in this little gem with the boys on assignment, featuring BAMF Alex Manes and overwhelmed Michael.

Last year’s wishes are this year’s apologies - @lambourngb

Last but in no way least – If I for some reason would have to choose only one fic to read from now until forever, this would probably be it. It just completely ticks all the boxes for me. It’s wonderfully long so you can just get completely lost in it, it also has a lot of amazing scenes so if you are in the mood for something specific – angst, fluff, nsfw, you can just dip into a specific part to get a quick fix. I get frustrated with the idiots speaking past each other, I cry over Alex hurting, I get a warm fussy feeling when they start opening up to each other again – it is all so very, very satisfying!

#rnmcreate2020 #i love all you amazing writers so much #seriously #thank you

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murdersexual · 3 years

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So... When are you going to post that LeoPika fic? 👀👀👀

Mane bet... 😏 But I might delete it later! Here’s part one!

🚨WARNING!🚨

Rated MA for Mature Audiences only. NSFW.

Sex, Drugs, Alcohol, Gambling, Gun Violence.

NOT COMPLETELY PROOFREAD.

May have a few out of character instances for I wrote this around 3am, so please excuse that.

✨Ship/Pairing✨:

LeoPika (Leorio x Kurapika)

March 3rd, XXXX, En route to World Resorts Casino, around 9:47pm:

The weather in Yorknew hadn’t exactly started to reflect that it’s close to Springtime yet. It’s still cold and snowy but that wasn’t going to stop the event that’s being hosted by some of the biggest names in Underground Crime.

We’re talking about a night full of sex, drugs, alcohol, gambling and music.

It’s also the night of Leorio’s 21st birthday and he’s in town, steaming hot for he’s yet to receive a ‘happy birthday’ call from a certain Mafia Leader with the most gorgeous of light blonde hair. However, that’s not all... In general, Leorio is ultimately tired of trying so hard to be the glue to what’s considered an already unfixable relationship. The point of his visit this time is to give Kurapika a piece of damn mind for what may be the final time.

What a way to spend his birthday, right?

The hot blooded koi fish found himself strolling down the cold streets of Yorknew by his lonesome. His enticing hazel gaze is relative to the weather... Cold and piercing. He wore the meanest of faces with his lips decorated in a sheer pout. Then his face and ears are red from the whipping of the snow and frosty winds. The thoughts that went around his sophisticated skull only ruses him further. With each step he took, the snow crunched beneath his expensive waterproof combat boots. The sound gave him a slight sense of calm—one that managed to steal attention momentarily.

“I forgot the last time I’ve even enjoyed the Winter...”

The words came rolling off his tongue. His eyes slightly softened as he now comes to a brief halt, a soft sigh exhales from the tall doctor-to-be. He finds the dark sky that slowly drops the small white flakes. Being the jovial spirit he knows he could be, he sticks his tongue out and catches a few of them. His handsome features are now graced with a soft smile only to see the lights of his destination illuminate the skyline. With a low growl, he’s reminded of his current goal.

“Bet even YOU won’t see me coming...”

His icy glare returns and the tone of his voice has lost all signs of benevolence. His words came out way darker than they should’ve.

But can you blame him though?

Continuing his traverse through the snowy lands of the busy city, he adjusts his earmuffs while now stuffing his gloved hands back into his long black winter coat. The brunette’s hair is messy and filled with snowflakes, such a look makes him appear rather gentle despite his mood. His trademark circular shades are gently shaded from the current weather but that doesn’t stop him from seeing now does it?

‘When I get there, I promise this time I’m gonna knock his fucking lights out.’

The thought got his adrenaline flowing. Now he yearns to cause physical damage. The question is... will it actually happen? This IS Kurapika here. He’s not gonna sit there and take that shit, UNLESS... he ACTUALLY accepts such a punishment.

Leorio knows how aggressive he can be but he is more angry than sad. He won’t ever come to say it...

But the idea of not being called on his birthday genuinely hurt him.

It felt like a slap in the face, especially for everything he’s done. He’d never miss any birthdays or special occasions and it’s to the point where he feels like it’s only him who thinks that way.

‘I give too fucking much to not get much—better yet, NOTHING in return!’

Being a person with a heart the size of the world this is the curse: to always be dealt a hand that’s never going to win. Knowing him? He wants to break that curse and by default there’s no better way to do it than to throw hands. His actions always spoke louder anyways.

Crossing a few streets and nearly fighting one of the people who almost hit him, he finally makes it to his destination—World Resorts Casino. Entering through the slide open glass doors, the bright slots, signs that point to everything and even the neon-like decor nearly blinded him. The smell of expensive imported cigars, cigarettes, various alcohol and a multitude of different colognes and perfumes filled the air. His nose burned from the mixture of scents all around. A low grunt emits as he now removes his gloves and earmuffs. Stuffing both in his pocket, he proceeds to walk ahead while undoing his silver buckle, his finely seamed gold buttons and his golden zipper. It revealed the finest of outfits!

He’s wearing a sleek black slim fit blazer that fits rather nicely around his muscular arms, a jet black satin button up that’s halfway unbuttoned at the top and neatly tucked in his matching sleek slacks that’s accented with a gold buckle Gucci belt. Tapping his feet to rid of the snow from the bottom, he walks on ahead only to meet one of the Casino Bunnies.

“Welcome to the World Resorts Casino, my fine gentleman! If you’re looking for the event labelled ‘How To Play Russian Roulette With a Criminal Mastermind’, it’s from the second floor on up! Here’s a complimentary welcome drink! May you enjoy your time here~!”

Giving a quick bow, the busty beauty now switches away, her semi-exposed cheeks had a little bit of a wiggle to them much like her makeshift bunny tail. With a smirk as he watches her, he stirs his drink and takes a sip, now charmed by how well it’s mixed.

“Not bad!”

Heading to the stairs that’s decorated in the cutest of roulette wheel numbers, he heads up, his ears are open and listening to the music that’s being played. He hums while trying to figure out what floor Kurapika may be on...

Speaking of him?

Kurapika’s right hand reaches for the roulette wheel, the midnight blue and black ombré nail polish that was still on his hands matched with the blue and purple ambience that is on the 8th floor. In his left, he held a half empty shot glass, now proceeding to spin the wheel. His right leg is crossed over his left, his foot gently swung to the beat, a soft smirk now decorating his face for he’s caught up hosting the Roulette Table.

“What’s your bets?”

He asked the two players, a woman in a black short evening dress that seemed one size too small, her breasts looked as if they were about to pop out of it and her bodacious hips, butt and thighs made the dress rise to the point her black g-string nearly showed. But it’s a good thing she has her legs crossed right?

“I’ll take all even on red, my kind sire~”

Her voice cooed, almost in a flirtatious tone towards him. To be honest, she’s been debating on attempting to charm him since his grand appearance earlier in the night. He knew that just from her gestures and body language alone. Those light grey orbs swished over to the woman beside her, she held herself up, a cigarette now being doused out in an ashtray, she wears a smile on her ruby red lips as she now casually blows smoke into the air.

“Mmm, can luck be a lady tonight~? I think I’ll take all even on black, hun~”

Sipping the little bit of cognac that’s left in his shot glass, he sets it down and looks to the wheel while mentally trying to calculate who’s going to win this round.

“How much?”

The busty lady was quick to answer...

“I’ll put 100 genie on my red~”

The ruby red lipstick lady smirked at her.

“Hmph, I’m a bit of a daredevil, so I’ll do 700 on my black~”

With that being said, he spins the wheel and actually narrows his choice down to who’s going to win.

‘Ruby, otherwise she wouldn’t have bet so much. She’s confident that all black on even will be victorious. And she’s not wrong... Tara’s bet was a safe one so there’s a lack of confidence in her choice. I know I’m the reason why she’s picked red... I have my earring to blame.’

“And the winner is...”

His eyes carefully watched the wheel as it began to slow up. The tiny little ball clicked and clanged until it fell onto...

Black, 26.

“Ruby.”

‘Just as I thought.’

Indeed, he knew it and with a gasp of disbelief, Tara pouts before reaching in between her breasts and pulling out a total of 800 genie. She hands it over to Ruby who takes it and waves it like a fan over her.

“Mmm, I can smell that vanilla perfume with a hint of boob sweat~ You were nervous weren’t you, doll face~?”

Tara gives an eye roll and crosses her arms over her chest.

“Hmph! What’s it to ya? Ya won already!”

She squeaks angrily. Getting up from her chair, Ruby wanders over and stands behind her before leaning down and wrapping her arms around her, she plants a kiss on her cheek before using her alcohol tinged tongue to sensually lick the shell of her ear before nipping at it and tugging on it. She purrs playfully.

“Better behave yourself, kitten~”

A soft squeak emits from Tara who huffs softly. She hates how she plays at one of her many weaknesses.

“Oh fine! But you’re on the couch tonight!”

“As long as my face is between your legs, I’m fine with that.”

The exchange between the two didn’t really surprise the blonde. As a Mafia Leader, he’s come to accept the shit he’s gonna see on a pretty regular basis. Taking his ice cubes and holding them into his cheeks he sets up for the next spin only to receive a call.

“Ugh...”

He knew whose voice it was off the back. He blinks his eyes closed as he slides the answer icon to the right and places it to his ear.

“What...?”

On the other line, that soft voice of Melody’s muttered...

“You have a visitor on his way to you... He seems very pissed...”

But who exactly is SHE referring to?

‘Oh don’t tell me...’

“Who…?”

He was enticed to ask anyways.

“I think it’s Leorio! I-I’m not sure, the only heartbeat I recognise that’s this fast and full of anger is yours though... It doesn’t seem like him at all...”

His eyes found the sky as he worded ‘my dear family, I do apologise, but fuck me gently with a fucking chainsaw, please, speed on low and blades on extra sharp.’ He made Tara and Ruby giggle for they read his lips perfectly. With a gentle sigh, he asks...

“Okay... so is it him or not…? I’m in the middle of hosting the roulette table...”

Her answer would’ve been immediate for she could hear the irritation starting to ruse. But before she could answer, she was spotted by the angry Leorio. His eyes glinted as he knew she was snitching.

“U-Uh!”

“MELODY!! TELL THAT FUCKER I SAID... BE READY TO FUCKING FIGHT!!”

Now leaning to his left hand to pinch his nose bridge a dreaded sigh left Kurapika.

“...Great.”

👀👀👀

I see that you’ve made it this far... This is ONLY part one. I currently have three full parts. So if you’d like to see the rest? Let me know! (EWW I CANNOT WRITE WTF! 🥲) I do apologise if this is all over the place but I knew that I’d get asked to post this some time around!

#hunter x hunter #hxh #hxh 2011 #oneshot #writing #leorio #leorio paladiknight #Kurapika #ask #ask response #anime #hxh imagines #one shot #fanfic #part one #thanks for the ask!#casino

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menkhu · 4 years

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@otomefandomevents @december-snow your midsummer gift exchange gift! it was a lot of fun getting to know su-jin. i hope you like it! fic under the cut, 1.4k words

The garden hummed, a symphony of insects celebrating the warmth and sunlight of the gorgeous day. The sweep of a light breeze fanned over Su-Jin's skin, and though she rarely sought time outdoors, she had to admit being there was refreshing. It would almost have been relaxing if she didn't have Zarad by her side smiling at her gently. The tenderness of the scene threatened to ruin her.

"I must say, I never would have expected you of all people to bring me out here," Su-Jin said.

Zarad grinned playfully. "No? I'd say this place suits me well. After all, these flowers are beautiful, just like me."

"Ah, so your ego enjoys playing in the sunlight and fresh air." As Zarad opened his mouth to respond, Su-Jin added, "Much like a dog."

"Well! Here I was prepared to tell you that I and my ego had that in common."

Su-Jin nodded seriously. "But now the comparison is so obvious it doesn't need to be explicated."

Zarad tossed his head back and laughed, the sound more invigorating than the sunlight or the insects or the brightly colored flowers waving at them. She observed with satisfaction the way the light fell over his features, the joy that was entirely her doing.

Su-Jin blinked, trying to clear some of the admiration from her expression. She could practically feel her face glowing. She rarely had a chance to see Zarad's true feelings, and she didn't need to be at an even greater disadvantage in their relationship than she already was, but he had a way of drawing all her vulnerabilities to the surface.

"Tell me: if I don't seem like the sort to enjoy gardens, where would you expect me to take you?"

"Are you making this a game, then?" Su-Jin's mind raced. If it was a game, she would win. "I recall you being fond of dancing, fond enough to dance even when there wasn't any music and every eye in the room was on you."

"Especially when every eye in the room is on me," Zarad said with a wink. "Having a woman in your arms is the perfect way to sweep her off her feet."

Su-Jin continued, "For you, much of the appeal of that dance was the spontaneity. You might enjoy an evening of music and dancing, but it's not your ideal event.

"It wouldn't be a meal, either; you'd want to run your mouth the entire time, which is somewhat more difficult while your mouth is full with food. You do enjoy being around people, but I expect you'd prefer to attend gatherings on your own so that you can more easily socialize with whoever you please." Su-Jin liked the way Zarad looked at her then, almost wistful. The pieces of the puzzle that was Zarad were coming together cleanly in her mind, and his face said she was approaching the correct solution.

"You would take someone for a walk," Su-Jin concluded. "It strikes the right balance between activity and conversation, offers some solitude, and you'd have plenty of opportunities to use cheesy lines to woo your companion."

"Like that, your logic leads us right to where we are now. It seems like strolling through a garden isn't such an unusual choice for me after all."

"It would be by the lake at sunset." She'd get sand over her feet and she'd grimace about it and he'd laugh and tell her it was all part of the charm and somehow, inexplicably, the grit between her toes would become charming. They'd stop walking when the sky started turning red so that they could watch the colors reflected in the water. With the vast empty space before them, they could pretend they were the only souls in the whole world and that the sun was painting its scene of ever-shifting beauty just for the two of them to enjoy, and Zarad would say something to her that would, for a moment, let her truly believe it. It would be colder in the dark. She would have to press close to him.

"It's less manicured. It suits you better." Su-Jin cleared her throat. She hadn’t meant to talk so much. "If your date goes poorly, you can use the darkness as an excuse to end it, and if not you could watch the stars. Having an escape plan would be suitable for a scoundrel such as yourself."

"Untamed," Zarad mused, holding out his hand to skim it over the top of a carefully pruned bush as they walked by. She wasn't sure he had even heard the scoundrel jab. Then, mirth returned to his eyes. "Why, Lady Su-Jin, you've taken such care in planning my perfect evening. Are you asking me to walk by the lake with you at sunset?"

Su-Jin stared at him blankly. He stared back with a lazy smile.

"It does sound lovely, but there's one factor you've forgotten," Zarad said. "Women enjoy the atmosphere here, and I enjoy their enjoyment."

"You don't have much interest in the garden yourself, then?" Su-Jin asked. She had almost seen something genuine from him, so even though he denied her conclusion, she considered herself the victor of their game.

"I'll have you know that I can name every flower in this garden."

"Interesting. This I have to see." Su-Jin crouched before a flower just off the path, white but run through with red streaks, its wide petals clustered into a cup shape. "Which are these?"

"Let's see. They're closed off, but their beauty is still apparent from all angles. I'll name this one Lady Su-Jin's Smile."

"So that's what you meant when you said you could name them."

"I'm familiar with a fair number of plants, though my knowledge doesn't extend to each and every flower. I am, however, as capable of naming them as those who first assigned them names."

"This one?" Su-Jin pointed to a bed of flowers next to the first-- smaller pale blue flowers clustered together, each with a mane of thin petals.

"The Stars Reflected In Lady Su-Jin's Eyes." He tossed the name out too easily.

"You're quite the romantic," Su-Jin said, although she was inclined to doubt the sincerity of every sweet word from his mouth after he spent so much time casually explaining how he charmed other women.

"I can step away from these gentle names, if you'd prefer. This one is The Shameful Thoughts Lady Su-Jin Has About Prince Zarad Late At Night. Have I ever mentioned how much I adore the way you blush?"

Su-Jin's face flushed an even deeper red. She wondered if she'd ever get to see Zarad blush, if he was even capable. She flitted toward a bush of small white flowers, "These flowers are rather plain, some might even say insipid. I name them Prince Zarad's Flirting."

"Ah, but these--" Zarad swept an arm at a patch of vibrant pink roses-- "are Lady Su-Jin's Face Betraying The Way She Enjoys It."

Between the two of them, they manage to fill the entire garden and the afternoon with playful insults, dancing between each bed and bush and neatly ordered row.

"I did doubt you at first, but it looks like you've managed to live up to your boasting."

"Only with your help. It seems we make quite the pair." He smiled at her, the same smile that had been stretched across his face for all the time they had spent together.

Su-Jin cocked her head at him and searched his face for something sincere, though his expression remained as carefree as ever. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"You like being part of a pair." Su-Jin observed.

"I do hope I've been sufficiently transparent on that matter."

"You like considering us a pair."

At that, Su-Jin got the blush she had been waiting for all day.

Su-Jin spent an unfortunate amount of time with Zarad on her mind the rest of the day, falling asleep with the image of the sunlight shining in his hair on the back of her eyelids.

She took some comfort in knowing that Zarad must have faced the same preoccupation. She woke to a small bouquet of Lady Su-Jin's Face Betraying The Way She Enjoys It next to her bed with a letter inviting her to walk by the lake that evening tucked beneath it.

#7kpp #7kpp midsummer gift exchange #i've only been trying to get better at drawing for a few months and this is my first involved background but i think it turned out pretty #i'm so excited to be able to share this gift <3

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iamthespineofmybook · 3 years

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Bleach OCs

As might have been noticed, there was no new Magic card today. That’s because we’ve reached the end of the current roster. When we get the next DLC character, I’ll post their card soon as it’s made.

In the meantime, here’s a post about some Fullbringer characters I made for Bleach.

The first one I made was a pseudo-self-insert, in that he was basically a version of me that already lived in Japan and also didn’t know what the events of Bleach were (I generally use “self-insert” for fics wherein the main character knows all about the world they were isekai’d into). His power was the ability to channel the spells in his Magic: the Gathering cards. He started off with a very limited capacity, so he couldn’t cast anything too high-costing, and it took him a long time to actually cast. I had him progress arc-by-arc until, by the Winter War, he could cast a ten-mana spell in about three seconds. He also had a Dangerous Forbidden Technique in using The Door to Nothingness, which he used against Barragan, and suddenly nobody remembered the Segunda Espada, even though everything he had done remained.

My second OC was Tsukishiro Yumei (which, I think, translates to “White Moon Dream”), whose Fullbringer focus was a lot more focused: on an MLPFiM charm bracelet she had made. She could use the powers of the Mane Six and an element like Fire, Water, Lightning, or Wood, depending on which Element of Harmony she was channeling. Eventually, she also unlocked forms based on Celestia and Luna, then two forms that allowed her to use all her powers at once, though the first of those drained her horribly and the other made her slowly forget her humanity. She also was made to be Ishida Uryu’s best friend growing up and had a crush on Rukia.

The last one is a true self-insert via reincarnation... into another version of myself that was young enough to do the student exchange program my school was putting on to Japan (I was two grades too old to go when they did it; also the past-life-memories became unlocked at the same time as the powers). This one’s Fullbringer is based around the class ring my grandparents got me, and I named it “The Power of Stories” or “The Power to Make Dreams a Reality.” What it entailed was the ability to create semi-solid illusions that were more real the more people believed them to be real. And the reason I did it was to give a character a real justification for why they would need to explain their powers to an opponent: because what he was actually doing was explaining the power he was faking having to make the enemy believe that’s what his power was. He also used it to stymie Aizen by overlaying the battlefield with illusions of the true state of things.

#bleach #ocs #fanfiction #fullbringer ocs #fullbringer powers #honestly I don't know what all tags to use #magic the gathering #my little pony friendship is magic

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alterarnm · 4 years

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A List of Roswell New Mexico Events

(Past, Present & Future)

Alex Manes Appreciation Week - May 4th-10th #alexmanesweek2019

Dia De Maria - May 5th #dia de maria

Ortecho Appreciation Week - Jun 2nd-8th #ortechoweek2019

Crashfest 2019 - Jul 5th-7th #crashfest

Three Days of Echo - July 5th-7th #echo3days2019

Roswell New Mexico Week - Jul 22nd-28th #rnmweek19 or #roswellweek19

Cosmic Love Exchange - Aug 11th-17th #cosmic love exchange

Ladies of RNM Aug 17th-23rd #lofrnmweek2019 or #ladiesofrnmweek2019

RNM Creator Appreciation Sep 2-8 #rnmcreate19

Echo/Miluca Sep 14th-15th #candymilkshakes2019

Michael Guerin Week Sep 17th-23rd #mgweek19 and #guerinweek19

All Hallow's Roswell (All October, theme weekly) #allhallowsrnm and #allhallowsroswell

RIP Roswell Oct 30th-Nov 2nd #riproswell

Kyle Valenti Appreciation Week Nov 27th - Dec 1st #kvweek19 or #valentiweek19

Roswell Prompts Advent - December 1st-31st Details: https://roswellprompts.tumblr.com/post/188416850353/its-time-for-another-event-on-here-woooohoooooo

12 Days of Malex - December 1st - 12th 2019 #malexsanta and #malexsanta2019

Nebulous Well-Adjusted Future Weekend of Possibilities (aka the RNM Fluffathon) Dec 13th-15th 2019 #rnmnwafweekend2019

Roswell Secret Santa - December 24th - December 26th #roswellsanta

Roswell New Mexico Fandom Remix 2020 -January 26th - 31st 2020 #rnmfanficremix2020

Liz Ortecho Week - March 9th-15th 2020 #lizortechoweek #lizweek2020

ROSWELL, NEW MEXICO BIG BANG SCHEDULE Author and Artists Sign-Ups - March 16th, 2020 Author Sign-Ups Close - June 23rd, 2020 Checkpoint 1 - July 20th, 2020 Checkpoint 2 - August 24th, 2020 Checkpoint 3 - September 21st, 2020 Rough Drafts Due - October 1st, 2020 Artist Claims - October 15th, 2020 Artist Checkpoint (Mandatory) - November 16th, 2020 Final Fic and Art Due - December 1st, 2020 Posting Starts - December 13th, 2020

Time After Time A Roswell New Mexico Alternate Era AU Event April 12th-18th, 2020 #alteraroswell2020

Maria DeLuca Weekend June 12th- June 14th #mariaweekend2020 or #mariadelucaweekend2020

Alex Manes Week June 22nd - June 28th 2020 #alexweek2020 and/or #alexappreciation2020

Malex Week 2020 July 13th - July 19th Details Pending

Max Evans Weekend July 31 - August 2nd 2020 #maxevansweekend

Isobel Evans Week August 2nd - Aug 8th, 2020 Themes and prompts will be posted by July 1st, if not sooner. #isobelevansweek20 and #isobelevansappreciation

12 Days of Malex - December 1st - 12th 2020 Details Pending

#roswell new mexico #rnm events #masterlist

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cowboyshit · 4 years

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La Princesse (Part Two)

I ahhh! here’s part two! I thought it would only be two parts, but I think it’s going to eventually go into a third part. no smut happens yet (sorry!), but I did decide to make jungle boy the foc’s best friend and might have hinted at a potential oc love interest for him IF I ever get the courage up to write a fic for him askjfkdfllsj hopefully I didn’t butcher any of the characters too much here!!!

Previously: part one

Ship: Chris Jericho x Sarah Rose (plus-sized FOC)

Summary: It’s been one week since Chris Jericho singled Sarah out at an AEW company party and asked if she’d let him be her sugar daddy. One week. That was all the time he gave her to make up her mind. The more days pass, the more Sarah realizes she kind of really wants to say yes.. and when she does, she gets a small taste of just what Chris Jericho has in mind for her...

Rating: Mature (sexual talk / sugar daddy/sugar baby stuff)

Warnings: sugar daddy kink stuff, mainly dirty talk

Length: 4,991 words

Available below the cut

“Are you kidding me?!” Her voice echoed around the empty, one-room studio apartment, yelled in irritated agony from her cramped adjacent bathroom. “That’s the second time this month the hot water has gone out,” she muttered as she stumbled out of her bathroom with a large towel wrapped and secured around her, searching for where she’d set her phone. Her large calico cat stretched and mewed softly from where it’d been lounging on the bed. When she glanced over, she noticed her phone was lying by the cat’s side.

“Thanks Vixen,” she said, as if her cat had told her where her phone was and reached to grab it before dialing her landlord.

The phone rang. And rang. And rang.

No answer.

Suppressing a frustrated sigh, she kept her voice as level and calm as possible when the answering machine clicked over. “Hi Blake, it’s Ashley. The hot water is out again. I’ll be leaving out of town today, back Thursday evening, so if we could get someone to come look at it before I get home, that’d be fantastic. Thank you!” Ending the call, she groaned in irritation and sighed through her nose to settle her frayed nerves. Getting upset about it wasn’t going to solve her problems and she had places to be. Ice cold shower it was.

It’d been six days since Chris Jericho had cornered her at the company party and propositioned her to be her sugar daddy. Every day since, when she came face-to-face with areas of her life that were less-than-ideal and would be easily fixed with money, his deal sounded better and better. When she browsed social media and inevitably came across a post about him, she’d pause and eventually catch herself staring at him for a little too long. All in all, the closer Wednesday drew, the more she began to realize she was considering accepting his offer.

She assumed he was only going to have her as his arm candy behind-the-scenes and couldn’t see him wanting to parade her out every time he had a show. She’d been a bigger sized girl her entire life, bullied in school, bullied at home, and shunned from social events just because she wasn’t the “ideal size” by society’s skewed, incorrect standards. Sure, the world was changing, growing, a body positive movement was on the rise, but there were still leaps and bounds to make. She’d only just begun to respect her body herself and still stumbled from time to time, catching old, hurtful thoughts returning, but she supposed it was all a learning process. All that aside, this was Chris Jericho. He wouldn’t want a fat girl on his arm as a sign of status, right? This would probably just be a fun, private thing.

Her heart sunk a little bit and she took a breath to steel herself against the disappointment. Shaking her head, she glanced at herself in the bathroom mirror and rolled her eyes.

“You’re letting old insecurities get the best of you,” she reminded herself. Besides, the point wasn’t whether or not he wanted to show her off. The point was that Chris Jericho confessed not only that he’d been watching her behind the scenes and not only that he thought she was beautiful, but that he wanted her. He wanted to shower her in gifts his wealth and status could bring. He wanted to spoil her. All he asked in return was her dutiful obedience and her returned affections. Which wasn’t a downside in the slightest, considering she was attracted to him.

She looked around her small studio apartment and met the green-yellow eyes of her cat, who softly meowed at her. “We wouldn’t be heartbroken to leave this place behind, would we baby?” She asked as she moved to scoop her kitty up into her arms and scratched her affectionately behind the ears and under her chin. “I’ll be back Thursday night,” she pressed a sweet kiss on her forehead, “you be good for the sitter.”

Goodbyes given, dressed and showered, she gathered her small carry-on and caught a rideshare to the airport. Having to fly practically every week got her used to the hassle quickly, making most airports less intimidating than they’d originally seemed. Plus, since her best friend lived nearby, she often got lucky enough to fly to the shows along with him.

“Sarah! Hey!” Right on cue, a soft, warm male voice beckoned, raising just loud enough for her to catch it above the background chatter of the airport terminal.

“Jack!” She grinned as she caught sight of the slender, fit young athlete with the luscious, long tumble of soft, curly hair. Jungle Boy Jack Perry was a few years younger than she was and the two had become surprisingly quick friends. Surprising on Sarah’s part because she hadn’t expected to consider herself friends with any of the talent on the roster. Jungle Boy was humble though, and down to earth. Sweet, and caring. She appreciated his friendship more than ever as well as his advice whenever she was faced with a problem in her life.

She hadn’t told him about Jericho’s offer yet… she didn’t think he’d be so interested in the idea as she was. Not that she and Jungle Boy were anything romantic – they’d probably both laugh at anyone who suggested it – but because he didn’t trust Chris Jericho as far as he could throw him, and he wouldn’t want Sarah getting mixed up with the likes of the Inner Circle.

“Always love it when we get the same flight,” he said after a quick hug, then raised an eyebrow pointedly at the ticket in her hand. “I’ll like it even better if you tell me you’re sitting with me.”

Sarah looked at her ticket and read her seat number aloud.

A grin lit up Jungle Boy’s gentle, youthful face. “Perfect! I’m next to you and Marko’s next to me. We’ve got the row. Come on, we’re waiting over here.”

Jungle Boy reached with his long arms, fingers scooping the handle of her carry on and tugging it out of her grasp before she could say a word. He led her toward the waiting area in front of the gate which was still only half-crowded and sure to gain numbers the closer that loading time came. Marko glanced up from his phone as they neared, his voluminous mane of curly hair barely contained by the baseball cap he wore backwards on his head. His grin picked up bright, showing all his teeth, and Sarah found it infectious as always, smiling back.

“Sarah! It’s been forever!”

“It’s only been a week, Marko,” she said with a laugh as she lowered to the seat beside him.

“Oh yeah!” He laughed and went back to typing on his phone.

Immediately, naturally, Sarah cheated her body toward Jungle Boy as he turned toward her. They started talking, mostly about their day since they texted or talked on the phone or met up and hung out occasionally throughout the week. When she’d first started in AEW as backstage personnel she’d felt completely out of her element and sure someone was going to point a finger in her face and tell her she didn’t belong, but Jungle Boy never did that. When she confessed to him that she had pipe dreams about being a wrestler, he’d been encouraging.

And still was. She hadn’t taken the jump yet to try and pursue that avenue, even though she was lucky to have so many chances at her fingertips. Jungle Boy didn’t press, but he constantly reminded her of how important it was to follow your dreams, no matter what.

They were called for boarding and as they shuffled through the loading ramp to the airplane, Marko elbowed Jungle Boy in the ribs and jerked his head toward her. Sarah caught it out of the corner of her eye, but it was clear she wasn’t supposed to. They were exchanging looks, communicating without talking, Jungle Boy frowning and shaking his head as he motioned for Marko to stop, and Marko nodding encouragingly and lifting his brows higher.

“Uh, guys? What sort of super-secret meeting are you two having?”

Jungle Boy jumped a little in place at having been caught and a sheepish expression crossed his sweet face as he looked at her and then down at the ground, readjusting his grip on the handle of his rolling carry-on. Marko, on the other hand, didn’t look too upset at having been caught. His blue eyes jumped between them, back and forth and back and forth, and he raised an elbow and jabbed Jungle Boy again.

“Someone’s got to talk, otherwise this is going to be a long plane ride,” she said as they shifted closer to loading.

“Let’s talk after,” Jungle Boy suggested, his deep voice ever calm, but when Sarah met his eyes she saw something that gave her pause. Worry twisted in her belly. Jungle Boy said nothing, but reached between them and gently wrapped his long, artful fingers around hers. He gave a comforting squeeze and separated their hands.

The flight was only a couple hours, but Sarah spent the entirety of it wondering what on earth Jungle Boy wanted to say to her. And why did Marko know? Was Jungle Boy… into her beyond their friendship? Never in a million years would she have the thought that he could want their relationship to be romantic, and nearly laughed the thought off. But you never thought Chris Jericho would look twice at you, did you? Sarah frowned and pretended to be interested in the in-flight film, but she hadn’t been able to pay attention to it the entire time and still couldn’t, too caught up in the thoughts running through her mind.

She hoped that wasn’t it. It wasn’t any fault of his, he was handsome and sweet and charming… but he wasn’t her type.

They shared a ride to the hotel and had just checked in when Marko noticed a fellow roster-member loitering in the lobby. “Sammy!” He shouted, grin spreading with imp-like delight over his face as he ducked through the crowd, quick, and went for the phone Sammy Guevara was using to record his YouTube vlog with. Sammy shouted as Marko snatched it out of his hands, and the shenanigans were on. The two sped off into the crowd, chasing one another, and Sarah grinned and shook her head. Boys.

After realizing their rooms were near one another’s, Sarah and Jungle Boy started for the elevators. He still hadn’t started talking and she was too nervous about it to prompt him. The tension between them on the elevator was thick enough to cut with a knife. They’d never been like this before… Sarah was worried. Maybe she should be the one to start, to rip the band aid off and just get it all out in the open. The doors opened, and they stepped calmly out into the hallway, beginning to walk toward their rooms. Hers came up first and they came to a stop. Sarah drew in a heavy breath and turned toward Jungle Boy.

“Why were you with Jericho?” He said it softly, but it was loud enough. Sarah stared, still open-mouthed, and slowly closed her lips. Jungle Boy’s brows dipped, and his eyes lifted to her face. He looked… concerned. Not angry. Not jealous. Worried.

“When?” She said like an idiot, her brain still scrambling through the fact that Jungle Boy had seen her with Jericho when he proposed the idea she be his sugar baby. How much had he seen? Had he seen Jericho tilt the glass and gently pour expensive champagne past her lips? Had he seen Jericho pull her in close as he leaned forward and leave a sweet, lingering kiss against them?

“At the party. Last week.” He said it calmly, but with a rising edge to his tone. Don’t play dumb and innocent with me, Sarah Rose. I know you too well.

“Oh...I…” her face was getting hot. Damnit! She was always so susceptible to blushing, and remembering that intimate, shared moment with Jericho struck energy in her veins and made her heartbeat quicken.

“Look, Sarah…” Jungle Boy started, one hand on his luggage, the other pinching the slender dip of his hip, “I care about you, okay? I’m not going to sit here and tell you who to talk to and who not to talk to, but Jericho…” he trailed off for a minute in thought and shook his head, brow pinching in as his dark, worried eyes returned to hers. “I just don’t think he’s a good person. I don’t think he’d really care about you.” Her initial worry about not telling him for that very reason (that he mistrusted Jericho) had been right. He and Jericho had their own slowly-brewing rivalry, after all.

Still, his concern touched her. Would it be different if he knew the truth?

“Jack…” she glanced around and knew they might run into another familiar face or be overheard. “Come on,” she jerked her chin toward her hotel door and pulled the keycard free, swiping and unlocking it. They walked in and she set her bag by the bed before lowering to sit on its edge. Jungle Boy leaned on the entertainment center in front of her, arms crossed over his slim but muscular chest.

“Chris Jericho isn’t going to be my boyfriend.”

He looked a little relieved but could read her and knew by her tone and expression that there was more coming.

“He… look, this is probably going to sound crazy, okay, but… hear me out. He asked me if he could be my sugar daddy.”

Jungle Boy’s brows shot up, wrinkling his forehead, and then fell and pinched hard inward.

“I know, I know. I couldn’t believe it either. I mean,” she frowned and glanced down her front, seeing her belly protruding with how she sat. “I’m not exactly sugar baby material for Chris freaking Jericho, you know?” She laughed, intending it to come across as a joke. A natural defense mechanism. Make the joke about yourself before someone can make it about you. She still hadn’t quite outgrown that gut reaction, even in Jungle Boy’s presence, who constantly chided her any time she said anything negative about herself. Even now, amid this new revelation, her self-deprecating comment had a stern frown from him thrown briefly her way.

“I haven’t given him an answer yet.” She said.

“And when you do? What are you going to say?”

She hesitated, gently pinching her bottom lip between her teeth as she thought. But it wasn’t her answer she was thinking so hard about. She was worried what Jungle Boy was going to say and how he was going to look at her if she told the truth.

“I think…” she forced herself to meet his eyes. “I think I might say yes? I know it’s crazy, but I could really use the financial help, and… you know me well enough by now to know I like my men to be older. I dunno… it might be fun to just live a little, and I’ve never really been anyone’s first choice, romantically, especially not someone as in the celebrity spotlight as him. It makes me feel…” she was bright red, but forced the word out, “sexy. It’s not like we’re going to fall in love or anything serious. It just makes me feel good that I have a multimillionaire who wants to spoil me and give me pretty things and have some fun with. I’ve never had anything like that before, you know?”

Sarah trailed off, quiet, and swore she could hear the heavy beats of her heart as she waited for what he was going to say. He sighed a long, low breath and reached up, pushing his long, thick curls out of his face.

“I get it… kind of. I mean, I don’t, but I’m… trying to.” He looked at her and she saw the confliction written clear as day across her face. “Just… promise me if it starts to go sour or he isn’t treating you fair, you aren’t going to keep it from me? Just… be safe, Rose. That’s all I’m saying.” She could tell he didn’t like it, not one bit, but what could she expect? He already told her he didn’t like Jericho, so she couldn’t think he’d suddenly get over it and cheer for her. But… it meant something that his only worry remained for her. That he wasn’t going to tell her what to do or what not to do, even if he didn’t like it himself. He just wanted her to be safe.

Sarah smiled, standing from the bed and walking over to him. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her cheek against his chest. He sighed the tension from his body after a lingering second, then reached with his long arms to gently wrap around her and hold her against him.

“I’ll be safe.” She promised and felt a little giddy. Saying it all out loud somehow made it more real. Like it wasn’t some fantasy in her mind. It was concrete. Factual. Tomorrow she’d be one-on-one with Chris Jericho, telling him she wanted to be his sugar baby and he, her sugar daddy.

“Alright,” he said, his chest rumbling gently with that smooth, low voice of his. His arms squeezed a little harder for a second, then released their tension. They stepped apart but remained close. “And if he ever hurts you, Sarah, or tries to make you do something you don’t want to…” something crept in the underbelly of his voice – the hero’s tone – and he pulled her back, so his eyes could squarely meet hers, “you’re not going to keep it from me. Me, Luchasaurus, and Marko… we’ll always have your back.”

Sarah doubted a man who was ready to spoil her was going to cause her harm, but she reminded herself Jungle Boy saw someone far different than she did when he looked at the likes of Chris Jericho. The fact that he wasn’t making her feel bad for considering going for it and only making sure that she knew she had an out if things went sideways was what was most important. So, Sarah held her tongue and didn’t argue or try and point out that Jericho could be different than what he thought he knew. She smiled and reached for his hand, giving it a little squeeze.

“Thank you, Jack. I don’t know what I used to do without you.”

His grin pushed higher into one side of his cheek than the other.

“Hey, by the way,” she kept her tone lofty as she released his hand and turned to start unpacking her suitcase, “I heard Valentina was going to be at the show tonight.”

There was a small stumble behind her, and Sarah bit down on her smile to keep it from spreading as she glanced over at him. He tried to play cool, but she had always had a feeling he liked the little spit-fire independent wrestler. Valentina hadn’t been signed to the AEW roster yet, but word was tonight was her try-out with the audience. She’d have a match that’d air on Dark next week and they’d see how receptive everyone was to her. Sarah had a feeling she was going to have an AEW contract in front of her before long… and it’d be fun to tease Jungle Boy about how bashful and tongue-tied he got around her.

“Just thought you’d like to know.” Sarah said with obviously feigned innocence in her voice and grinned over at Jungle Boy, who frowned and tried his very best to pretend he wasn’t personally interested.

“Oh, uh, that’s good for her…” His voice trailed, and he frowned and nodded. “I’m sure she’ll do well.” He was doing his best, but Sarah was struggling to fight the smile from spreading across her face, clearly seeing how affected he was by just a mention of her. Sarah couldn’t believe she’d actually been afraid his feelings had gone romantic for her.

“Yeah,” she agreed, calming her grin as best she could. “Good for her.”

*****

“There you are.”

Everything inside her body seized and twisted tight. Butterflies in her stomach. The voice had come from behind her, and she’d been bent, reaching to fix where the cords had been taped to the ground. A glance over her shoulder at him as she stood showed Jericho with his head tilted, eyes peering over his sunglasses as he appreciated her large ass bent toward him. On the shoulder of his flashy, sequined suit jacket he held the beautiful AEW World Champion belt. For a second her eyes were stuck on it and the way it glittered like stars, even under the unflattering fluorescent lights hanging overhead.

Then she looked at him. She’d turned to face him and felt entirely underdressed for the moment in her company t-shirt, a pair of worn jeans, and tennis shoes. Her dark hair was tied back in a ponytail, and she hadn’t bothered wearing make-up. Sometimes she needed to run around backstage or jump in and help move something heavy, and she could work up a sweat. Her job didn’t require her to look glamorous, though she’d thought about it that night, knowing Jericho would be coming to her before the show.

Damnit… she should have put some on. What if he changed his mind?

In contrast to her, Jericho was ready for the spotlight as ever. His long blond and peppered white hair was tied neatly back, not a strand out of place. He must’ve shaved before coming to the convention center, because his face was smooth, without even a hint of a five o’clock shadow. He had on a sequined black suit jacket, no shirt underneath, and it gave a peek of his aged, but sturdy, strong chest underneath. Sarah swallowed her nerves down and met his eyes as he slowly pulled the sunglasses off his face.

Jericho leaned in and, gripping her gently on the elbow, turned her this way and that so he could lay a sweet, fondly lingering kiss to either side of her cheeks. Sarah could feel how warm her cheeks had gotten when he moved back and saw the way his grin deepened as he noticed it too. She was blushing beneath his stare, her heart beating quickly beneath his all-knowing stare. He knew how much he affected her, and he seemed to like it.

“Did you consider my offer, baby girl?” He reached lazily and brushed a strand of her hair back over her shoulder. His eyes met hers.

This was it. Sarah was going to tell Chris Jericho she wanted to be his sugar baby.

“Yes,” she squeaked and cleared her throat, floundering shyly beneath his steady, amused stare.

“And?” His pupils jumped, studying her. Was he… actually nervous she’d say no? Was Chris Jericho worried that she wouldn’t want him?

“I… want to.” She whispered it, couldn’t say it too loud, but she managed to push the words out somehow.

A smile spread over his face as he pushed his sunglasses up into his hair. It was that same celebratory grin he wore whenever the world was turning in his favor; when thousands upon thousands of people chanted the phrases he spoke. “Ohhh princess,” he chuckled breathy in a lower tone, licking his lips and letting his eyes drop purposely slow down every round curve of her body. He leaned in, careful not to bump her into the world championship belt, and lowered his mouth softly against hers. Sarah found herself naturally pressing up on her toes so she could deepen their kiss, pursing her lips. Jericho pushed his tongue along hers and groaned as he did. The sound of it rumbling in his throat tightened the muscles in her lower abdomen and made her shift her weight, pressing and squishing the fat of her thighs together.

“Heh,” he pulled away slowly and stared down at her. His fingers slipped up and down the back of her arm, raising goosebumps where he touched. As if unable to keep himself from her, Jericho leaned in again, one hand steadying the belt and keeping it on his shoulder as he pressed his nose into her hair and littered quick, soft teasing kisses warmly on the sensitive skin of her neck. He spoke low, whispering promises as his free hand pinched into the fat over her hip. “Mmm baby… daddy can’t wait to spoil you… I’m going to buy you the world.”

“God…” she whimpered, eyes wanting to roll. Her fingers bent at her sides, desperate to touch him, to grab him and pull her hard against her. She refrained, but just barely. This was pornographic perfection and they hadn’t even done anything yet. It had to be some sort of dream or something, because real life couldn’t be like this.

“You can just call me daddy, princess. No need to call me a god.” He said as he pulled away from her, mouth spread in that trademark conceited grin of his. It was the one that said he knew exactly what a shit he was being. It was the one that said he knew he could get away with being a shit because he was who he was. “Now,” he said, straightening and shifting the weight of the belt more comfortable on his shoulder. He wore the strap with such comfortability, like an extension of his arm. A piece of himself. “We need to get you to wardrobe and make-up. Come on.”

Jericho turned, hand settling on her arm, fingers gently pinching her arm. He guided her alongside him and didn’t break stride, even when her confusion caused her to stumble a bit.

“Wait- Wardrobe? Make-up? Why?”

“Baby,” Jericho tilted his head and glanced down at her, sunglasses still pushed up into his hair so his blue eyes could be hers. “You’ve got new status now and daddy wants to make sure the whole world knows it. You can’t come out with me and the Inner Circle in your company clothes.”

“C-come out with you? Like… on live… television?”

“Princess,” he laughed gently, not mocking, “if you really don’t feel comfortable, you don’t have to. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do - hey-” he reached out and stopped her in the hallway, turning to face her. “I need you to understand sweetheart… anything that makes you uncomfortable, you need to tell me, okay? I want to show you off, but if you don’t like that, you don’t have to.”

Sarah barely felt like she could breathe for a minute, touched by the concern written sincere across his face. She hadn’t… expected that. But then again, he was so good to those who were closest to him, should she be so surprised? She was, essentially, a part of Jericho’s Inner Circle now, and she saw how much he touted the greatness he saw in every member of his faction.

“I… want to.” She decided, nodding and looking up at him, nervous but excited smile pushing into her soft, round cheeks.

He lit up with what appeared to be genuine happiness, and Sarah’s heart lifted. She had a feeling being his sugar baby wasn’t going to be hard at all, because she genuinely enjoyed doing things that made him happy. She liked to think of herself as the one person Chris Jericho wanted enough and cared for enough that it’d keep his eyes and make him want to spend what he earned on her. Only the best for a man like Chris Jericho, and he wanted her.

“Then come on princess, let’s get a taste of all the ways daddy is going to spoil you.” He said, playfully slipping his fingers down the large curve of her ass and pinching into the ample fat there. She squeaked in surprise and jumped a little, making him laugh and smacked his palm against it. The clap bounced around the narrow cement walls of the hallway as he rubbed his hand gently over where it’d stung. His fingers curled and squeezed into the fat and then released, finally pulling away.

“Daddy’s going to have so much fun with you,” he said with a chuckle, “I’m having trouble keeping my hands off you”

She ducked her head, cheeks warming again, and laughed. Her dazed gaze reached his handsome profile. “I can’t wait until you don’t have to keep them off me, daddy.” She managed to say it, though it took a second longer than a natural flow to a conversation. He didn’t seem to mind the hesitation, eyes jerking to her face and smile twitching over his lips. To hear her call him daddy seemed to have an instant effect, a damn near magnetized pull.

“This is going to be the longest show of my whole damn career, isn’t it?” He asked as they neared the doorway with the printed paper sign slipped in a clear plastic sheet protector that read: WARDROBE. He reached for the door handle and ran his eyes shamelessly again up and down her curved figure. “All I’m going to be thinking about tonight is all the ways I’m going to get you to say, ‘thank you daddy’ afterwards and how many times I’m going to get you to say it.”

She couldn’t find sense to respond - she was breathless, dizzy, mind running wild with all the dirty thoughts he must have in mind and how badly she wanted him - he winked and pushed the door handle open, holding it for her before he nodded for her to step inside. “Come on princess, let’s get you ready. Daddy wants to show his sugar baby off to the whole damn world.”

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