#ugh i love to cook. i wish i didn't live with my mother who makes me feel like im stupid for wanting to try new things | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

randynova · 2 years

Note

Can you do a Kyojuro Rengoku smut story where Kyojuro and the reader eloped?

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧

ᴋʏᴏᴊᴜʀᴏ ʀᴇɴɢᴏᴋᴜ x ғᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛᴇᴅ?: ʏᴇs

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 𝟼.𝟸ᴋ

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐊𝐲𝐨𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭 𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞.

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ(s): sᴍᴜᴛ, ғʟᴜғғ, ᴇʟᴏᴘᴇ/ᴍᴀʀʀɪᴀɢᴇ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴs ᴏғ ᴀʙᴜsᴇ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴs ᴏғ ᴘʀᴇɢɴᴀɴᴄʏ, ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

A.N.: Hi, thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy it! This is my first attempt at writing for Kyojuro so I hope I did good! This is pretty long, and one of my requests that took long. I think I have at least 2-3 more like this. But hopefully, I can finish them all before school begins.

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"Stupid boy! How can you associate yourself with such a disappointment of a girl?! Courting the daughter of a crap cook?!" Shinjuro grits, taking a swig of sake and glowering at his son. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing! The liquid burned his esophagus as it ran down his throat, yet with the fury pumping through him, the alcohol did nothing but fuel his emotions. A groan leaves him and he throws the clay container at the slayer, missing Kyojuro's head by a few centimeters as it smashes into hundreds of pieces upon hitting the wall. "Ugh— what a worthless son you are! I can't even count on you to bring honor to this family…!"

Shinjuro knew your family very well and he despised them, especially your father, where even the mere mention of the man's name ignited a strong scorn within the former pillar. Even if he could care less about what his son did, he'll be damned if he allowed his eldest to bring the Rengoku name shame!

"What…?" Disappointment? Kyojuro thought bitterly, frowning. My [Name] is far from that….

Yet, Kyojuro kept his mouth shut, trying to keep the bubbling anger at bay upon hearing the jibes from the former pillar. If anything, his mother taught him to never disrespect his father and a part of him still wished for his approval. However when Shinjuro continued his slander parade, grumbling about your 'disgraceful' family, dragging your name through the mud, and calling you 'an easy wretch who'd open her legs for anyone', Kyojuro felt his temper snap. It’s one thing to humiliate Kyojuro, but to snub his beloved for no good reason? Kyujuro would not stand for it.

Staring at his father, lips pressing into a tight-lipped smile and a darkened gaze, the man remained seated, seething in his spot whilst he clenched his fists. "Father, as much as I respect you, I cannot tolerate you insulting the woman I love–" Kyojuro could not finish his sentence.

The man cut Kyojuro off with a scoff, pushing himself off the floor, quickly moving onto his feet, and stumbling towards his eldest. Almost as if a firecracker had been lit beneath him, he shook with pure irate, thick brows knitting together, blinded with rage as he raised his hand. "Hah! 'Love'?! You of all people wouldn't know what it is with that thick fucking skull of yours!" Shinjuro grabbed Kyojuro's fiery hair and twisted his golden tresses between his fingers, hauling his son off the ground and flinging him to the floor. He didn't give his son time to react, his foot digging into the man's stomach as he shouts with pure disdain, "You're only nineteen! What the hell do you know about love?!"

"Father, I–"

Shinjuro cuts his son off, practically spitting every word out in a venomous tone,"Shut up! Leave her! Let that damn girl live her life without you!" Shinjuro spits, the heel of his foot ramming into his son’s ribs, "Ergh— for once, amount to something and find someone who isn't as worthless and talentless as you! Maybe then I'll finally be proud of a son like you!"

It's been a couple hours since the encounter where Kyojuro finally decided to announce to his father of his courtship to you, believing it would somehow make the older man just a bit proud of him. Perhaps even get his blessing as well! Afterall, the life of a demon slayer is unpredictable and who knows when it will ever be safe for Kyojuro to settle down, if ever. For once, he wants to live a life with you by his side, where he can finally be happy knowing he has a woman like you as his wife.

Yet even as his hopes were crushed, Kyojuro could not get his mind off it all, replaying his father's words over and over again as he made his way back to your home, kicking the dirt as he walked in the night. Shaky breaths left him, still getting heated just thinking about how his father insulted you. How dare he?!

You were one of the most kind and beautiful people he’s ever crossed paths with, truly the most remarkable woman in his eyes. One he does not ever regret meeting . With a sharp wit and strong resolve, you were by far the only other person to keep up with his chittering and bright character, as well as his odd but large appetite. It only spurred his interest in you more. Though the two of you have only known each other for a few months, he knew you were the one he wanted to marry one day. With a heart of gold and talent of ambrosia to cook the most delicious meals, he'd be a fool to let you go so easily.

Even if his father threatened to break you two apart —

"In the morning, I'm going to that damn cook's house and telling the bastard you're courting his daughter. Then we'll see how strong your 'love' is when she's engaged to someone else…"

— Kyojuro would make sure you will stay together. Thus, his own current predicament walking in the fields to the town you reside in. Hearing his father’s threat to break you two apart did dishearten him for a bit, but just the mere thought of surrendering you to another man so easily ignited a strange primal instinct within the man, one that made his chest feel heavy and his stomach twist. If there is any other man out there who dared take you from him, Kyojuro would not give up without a fight. You were his and his alone.

The slayer sucked in a sharp breath and sighed, defeated in getting his father's acknowledgement in your relationship. Then again, your relationship had not been officialized and had been a secret courtship, one that not even his closest friends knew. Yes, Kyojuro did want to announce his interest in you, yet he held himself back.

Part of him feared a demon finding you as a way to get revenge, while the other part of him didn't want to cause trouble for your family. Of course Kyojuro was familiar with the bickering going in-between the Rengoku and [Last Name] families, but he never paid much mind to it. It never caught his attention.

It wasn’t until the pillar stopped by your village to replenish and satiate his hunger, running across the small family restaurant. The name was familiar and he recognized it, though, the reason kept slipping his mind. At the time, only you and your mother were working, and after your mother’s refusal to attend to the man, you took it upon yourself to be a diligent server for the fiery man. To say he was stumped seeing you would be an understatement.

A warm smile and mellow [E/C] eyes that had his heart thumping wildly in his ribcage, a voice as smooth and sweet as melting honey, a kind yet humorous character that had both of you chittering, stuck in a cycle of endless banter had it not been for your father kicking him out. In short, you left an impression on the man, especially after you gave him an extra order of beef nabe and sweet potatoes, asking him to please visit your family’s restaurant again soon.

What can I say? The way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. And he could not understand his father’s hatred for your family.

And he did visit, numerous times in fact over the course of the year. Kyojuro found himself going to your village to eat after every mission, even taking his brother Senjuro with him a few times to further extend his visit as long as possible. It became obvious to the small boy as he noticed his older brother’s flushed cheeks and change of behavior whenever you came by their table, leaning in towards you and bashfully smiling, not to mention the rain of compliments after every bite. Senjuro felt out of place and could only stare with an awkward smile.

These little visits allowed Kyjuro to get to know you better, from your favorite flowers, to a wish to own a certain article of clothing, or your dream to visit all of Japan one day — maybe even the world. And he hung onto every word as if it were sacred scripture.

To everyone around, it was clear that the man was absolutely infatuated with you. If only you could see it, he thought.

It wasn’t until your father threatened him to leave you alone was Kyojuro pushed to finally ask for your hand — which you gladly accepted with a smile of glee. With gifts and flowers, the man soon charmed his way to your heart and soon, you just couldn't wait to see him again.

Each night he returned from a mission, you prepared him a bento box and both of you shared it under the moonlight, sitting on the porch of your home or the nearby fields. He would tell you of his battles, chat about his friends, boast about his little brother and so on - it just proved how much of a humble, yet selfless man Kyojuro was and you found yourself falling deeper.

The two of you grew close, closer than he ever anticipated.

Kyojuro would never forget the night he plucked you for the first time, shedding his cloak for you as he laid with you in the fields, declaring his love for you as he sunk deep into your fluttering heat. Your beautiful smile when you said you trusted him, holding his face with your hands and telling him you loved him — the joy he felt that day couldn’t be described by words. The memory made his own body turn mellow, corners of his mouth twitching.

From the praises spilling from his mouth as your hands carved crimson lines to his back, slow heated kisses pressed to your bare neck and soft breasts as he moved with gentle caution, to sharing a deep kiss whilst he spilled inside your womb. Oh, he could never forget your strangled cry as you weakly called out for him, pulling him flush against your body as you came, whimpering and gasping.

You were his and his alone, the same way he was yours and only yours.

The intimate time he spent with you, he would forever cherish it — even the many nights that followed where you spent in his arms, hands interlocked, and losing yourselves in the rapture of your love. Suitor or Husband, Kyojuro would not dare to treat you as anything less than perfect.

Your courtship would be something he could never regret nor ever stop.

However, Kyjuro paused, stopping in his tracks. Speaking of, your courtship has been going well and considering the circumstances, it would be time to propose sooner rather than later. Yet, he would not be able to have his own family attend his wedding, the same way you would not be able to have your own parents present. The exchange of rice wine had to be in front of both your parents to be official, but his own father disapproved of you, and your mother and father hated all Rengoku men.

Tradition had it that a wedding ceremony had to be at a Shinto shrine, maybe a local one if neither one of you could find one, but overseen by a priest — it was all Kyojuro wanted for you. Yet…

Not a lot of priests would oversee a wedding on such short notice, and some did not have a liking to demon slayer. So another dead end there. Racking his brain, Kyojuro still contemplated what you two could do.

Mm, perhaps if he asked Ubuyashiki to officiate your wedding ceremony at a nearby shrine in place of an ordained minister and plead to his fellow pillars to be witnesses to the exchange of rice wine, then you would really have the wedding he promised you one day.

The only choice now was to elope to ensure this would come true before the morning fell and risk losing you.

Now, all he needed was his bride.

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

The chirping of crickets and the breeze of the wind running through the tall grass drifted through the air, the eerie silence of mother nature never breaking even as the soft tapping against your room’s shoji frame rang in the night. Stirring awake, your eyes slowly flutter open, taking a sharp breath at the abrupt disruption to your slumber. The noise came again, the pattering against the paper door pulling you out of your dozy state.

Odd, who could be out this late?

Who —

Your eyes shoot wide open once the realization hits you. Kyojuro returned! Sitting up and throwing your blankets off, you crawl quickly to the other side of the room, the dark silhouette of the man lined out clearly against the translucent cover, his hair swaying in the wind. You take a moment to smooth out any stray hairs and take a deep breath.

Shakily, you crack open the divider. Peeking out the door, your face lights up upon seeing the fiery man waiting with a bright smile, his hand mid-air. A twinkle crosses your features as he visibly perks up, golden hues dilating seeing his beloved. How cute.

You did not think as to why he came here nor ponder too long on how late he came to your house, as your heart pounced out of your chest at the mere sight of your suitor and you were more than ecstatic to see him again after so long. "Ah! Kyojuro….!" You squeal as quietly as possible, sliding the door fully open, and flinging yourself to him, arms draping around his neck as he nearly falls backwards with a grunt. For a moment, the thought of your parents slipped your conscience.

Kyojuro leans over slightly so as to let your knees rest on the surface of the porch, avoiding having his beloved strain her body for a simple hug. “Mm, hello to you as well, my love….,” he titters softly, his smile shifting into a wide grin, regaining his composure and wrapping an arm around your waist, pressing his palm to your upper back. His eyes fall shut whilst burying his nose into your hair and inhaling your honey-sweet aroma. The man’s heart thumped widely in his ribcage and you could feel every beat as it etched a tattoo against your bust. The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes, basking in one another’s presence as you remained in his warm embrace. The pillar could never get tired of the excitement you greet him with every time you see him, even if it’s only been a couple days since he’s seen you — which is rare— but it might as well have been years. If it were up to either one of you, you wouldn’t leave each other's side for a second.

Pulling away slightly, your eyes meet his lively gaze, soft fingers trailing to his jaw, and cupping his face, running the pads of your thumb over his cheek bones. He leans into your touch, brows raising in content as he melts into your tender hand. It always made your heart swell when he preened at your attention. Sighing sharply, he places his own palm over yours and engulfs it, giving it a soft squeeze whilst still having a hand planted to the small of your back. This is one of the few things he looks forward to when reuniting with his beloved, craving it nearly everyday.

You hum, nuzzling your nose against his own, pulling a small chuckle from him. He bites the inside of his cheek, blood rushing to his face at the small action. "Kyojuro, I missed you…," you mutter with a slight purr, [E/C] hues boring longingly into his own before fluttering close, shrinking the distance between you two and locking your lips together The man holds your body close, slowly tilting his head and deepening the kiss. A small whimper drummed in your throat, parting your mouth wider and allowing Kyojuro to dip his tongue into the wet cavern, wet clicks drifting into the air. Hearing the cute noises you made had him wishing to hear more, almost enough to make him forget why he arrived here in the first place.

With much reluctance, he pulled away, panting as he murmured with a hoarse tone, "Ah, we… I must discuss something with you. It’s… it’s important….”

Thrumming, you nod, looking at him expectantly. His throat bobbed as he swallowed dryly, opening his mouth yet nothing came out. You always made him tongue-tied on its own, but tonight, it was different. He could hardly find the words to bring up the urgent topic, knowing he would go on a tangent and avoid the statement altogether out of nerves. Before he knew it, the words slipped out without a second thought —

"Marry me, [Name]."

"Huh?!" You pushed yourself off of Kyojuro and stared at him in shock, clasping a hand over your mouth. You hoped your sudden outburst hadn't awoken your parents but part of you could not believe what he had asked you. The man did not seem deterred and gently took your hand from your face and joined it with his awaiting grasp, squeezing them tightly.

Rich and lucid hues gazed at you, his features etched with a determined expression, voice low and earnest as he pleaded to you, "Please marry me today and make me the happiest man alive knowing I have a woman as great as you as my wife. " Even hearing it again seemed surreal, but your brain went haywire at the declaration.

"Kyojuro, I… I," you mutter, fumbling over your words as heat rushes to your face, eyes shifting back and forth between his bright golden n' ruby eyes and your intertwined hands. The moonlight poured over you two and for a moment, he seemed to glow, noticing the blush coating his cheeks.

"Let me take care of you, my sunshine…," he begs once more, using the nickname that always had your heart pittering. "You bring my heart much joy and I cannot imagine anyone else to spend the rest of my life with."

Letting his words sink in, you began to wonder about his words. You’ve always dreamt of getting married since you were a small girl, tying the knot with the man of your dreams, and having a large family. He knew that, yes. Yet, as where you were now, the perfect man sat across from you, pouring his heart and soul to you, pleading you to be his wife. Of course you wanted to say accept his offer! But your family — life cruelly had a twisted fate in blessing you with parents that do not want you to waste a single breath on a man who was willing to give you a piece of heaven itself.

Though, for so long, you always did what was expected of you, never what you wanted. And for once, you wanted to control the direction of your life. Your voice was barely above a whisper, but he heard you and smiled.

You don’t know when the two of you began to kiss, feverishly meshing your lips together in a heated sync as you retreated back into your room, stumbling over your feet as you shared each shaky breath, bodies flush against each other. Stray hands gripped his shoulders, both of you fumbling to strip yourselves of the restricting clothing. Though neither one of you dared pull back, even as the air became scarce, wanting nothing more than to be close.

Slipping his cloak from off his shoulders and tossing it to the side of the room, the man watched as you hastily unbuttoned his uniform, nimble fingers hooking around the waistband of his slacks before unbuckling his belt, pressing a heated kiss to your lips in between. Never has he seen you so desperate, so needy, pawing at his broad chest, running your hands over his muscles and shedding him of his shirt before knotting themselves in his hair. Yet, the way you pulled him close with a harsh tug made his heart swell, knowing you wanted him as much as he wanted you, feverishly connecting your mouth to his. A string of spit connected your mouths as you parted, your hands still entangled in his locks, breathless and gasping with hazy minds and glazed-over eyes.

Even as he wished for both more than to bury himself inside you, Kyojuro did not wish to hurt you in the midst of trying to remove your clothing in a haste. Tears of pain was the last thing he wanted. Carefully, he peeled away the yogi enveloping your body, shedding away the fabric and revealing the soft skin of your small frame, swallowing dryly. Coarse fingers brush across your exposed skin, pushing the fabric down your arms until it falls to the floor with a soft thump. He followed suit, nudging you backwards until your back met the surface of your futon, his taut frame towering over your feeble form.

As you lay across the cotton sheets, Kyojuro’s eyes roamed your naked form with adoration, drinking in the bare skin of his wife with a newfound elation as you looked like a sinful dream come true. The soft glistening lips of your pussy under the glow of the moonlight looked so inviting, practically dripping in your arousal already, and he could hardly contain himself. The swell of your hips to the plumpness of your thighs garnered his attention, eyes taking in every curve and dip, ingraining each detail into his mind. Seeing his darkened expression, a small smile sets on your lips and you graze the side of your foot to his hips, tapping against his pelvis, and snapping him out of his lovesick trance. Of course, he had more than enough time to stare at you later.

Tonight, however, he intended to worship your body and make love to you.

He placed himself at your feet, running his hands up your smooth skin, and leaving a hot trail in his wake. Shuddering at the sensation of his calloused hands, hardened over the years of training brushing over you now with the intent to pleasure you. Giggling, you clench your thighs together, taking in your bottom lip between your teeth. Groaning with delight, he nestles his face between your legs, spreading them apart with caring hands, his mouth salivating at the sight of your soft weeping cunt. His heart hammered in his chest, hot breath fanning against your flesh, and his eyes glazed over as he glanced at you. With a grin , he softly presses his lips to your heat, never breaking eye contact as he dips his tongue between your slick folds.

“Ah…!” You clasp your hand over your mouth, sucking in a sharp breath as he wasted no time to lap tentatively at your cunt, slurping eagerly and licking long, flat strokes from your entrance to your aching clit. You could feel him smile against your heat, amused at how easily you slipped up. Though, you could care less at the moment.

Every swipe of his tongue had you arching your back as he made your lower abdomen tighten, grinding your hips into his hot mouth, moaning pathetically against your palm. Fuck, already the man had you slobbering on his chin, drawing strained cries from you as he prodded heavily and drew deep lines within your folds. You swore you could see the heavens themselves from each tentative lick.

Yet your throaty sobs sent him into a sort of frenzy, spurring Kyojuro on to continue his depravity. The slick of your core had already been coated with your sweet nectar, smearing his lips and becoming drunk on your flavor. Lewd noises trickled from where he laid, wet muscle applying enough pressure to have you writhing. "K-Kyojuro...!" You whine against your palm.

Your free hand finds its way to his sleek hair and knotting into his strands, trying to separate yourself from him before you made a mess. Yet the attempt was fruitless. The vibrations of his groans and grunts have you falling apart even faster, screwing your eyes shut as you call out to him weakly. Your thighs engulf his head, trembling in his grasp as he begins to suck on your clit, lips wrapping around the bud and pushing you closer to the edge. The twitching of your thighs gave you away and he knew you were close. So close to tasting you as he did many nights before.

Thick fingers grip at your plush, keeping you open as he carved out your sopping cunt with intense laps, swirling his tongue around your bud. The muffled whimpers drove him further, slick and spit dribbling from his mouth. With a broken mewl, you gush into his awaiting mouth and spasm, bucking your hips as he drank your juices happily, tasting every drop you offered. You sucked in deep breaths through your nose, afraid to trust yourself to not make a noise, you weakly locked your quivering limbs around his temple.

God, you could never get used to him and his skilled tongue, but you were not complaining.

Pulling off with a pop, he left your poor clit alone before nudging your mound with his nose and nudging your legs apart. As your high began fading, attempting to catch your breath, you didn’t notice the butterfly touches near your lower half. Kyojuro pressed a series of small kisses from your tummy, brushing past the underside of your doughy breasts, to your sternum, his lips grazing your supple flesh as he trails to your throat. He slotted himself between your thighs and leered down at you with a teasing grin, licking away your arousal from his lips. His shaft throbbed almost painfully, needing to be stuffed inside your sweet cunt, cockhead dripping with pre-cum. His sweet love needed time to rest but his patience began to wear thin.

The world be damned, Kyojuro will make you the mother of his children and make you [Name] Rengoku — he needs you now.

With your mind slipping into a haze, you could hardly grasp as Kyojuro sunk into you, sheathing his length deep within your slick. Slowly, he began thrusting into your tepid heat, breathless against you as he pinned you into the futon. But as his body collides with your feeble frame, your core clenches and pushes against him, eyes rolling to the back of your head at the painful stretch. The sensitivity from your last release still had not faded, and you could feel the ache building up once more.

"Ngh, K…Kyojuro…!" You mewl, clinging onto his shoulders, digging crescent shapes into his skin with every rut of his hips, your body rocking back and forth from how deep his girth hits with each powerful thrust. "Ahhhah, p-please don't —ahh!" Your legs instinctively wrap around his thick waist, pulling him closer as he continues pumping into your body. The fear of being caught leaves you, shamelessly whining for your husband, tears cascading down your cheeks. How could you remain quiet when you're drowning in an abyss of absolute pleasure?

Kyojuro heatedly presses his lips against yours, swallowing your moans in an attempt to silence you, afraid of letting the cute noises he loves so much to continue in fear of your parents barging into your room – to see him defiling their sweet daughter. Yet with the way your cunt is clenching around him, he was struggling to keep quiet himself. It doesn't matter how many times he fucks you, it always left him breathless from how tight you were. He could only hope your folks were deep sleepers.

Though, plucking you this time felt different. Sneaking into your house and fucking you late at night seemed surreal to the man, even as he was currently nestled in your velvet slick. Perhaps it was because now, he was fucking you as your husband, not as your suitor, and now — may your families be damned if they didn't want you two together — Kyojuro will make sure nothing keeps you two apart. Even if it meant he'd be disowned and an outcast, you were worth every punishment.

Fat, heavy balls slapped against your ass, the wet squelching of your dripping pussy overflowing the dark room. He could create a whole record from the sinful symphony alone, his knees digging into the blankets as he glided back in with ease, hand kneading the flesh of your ass. The man melted into you, breaking the kiss to bury his face in the crook of your neck, taking your flesh in-between his teeth. The pinch at your skin made you squirm, curving your spine and pressing your breasts flush against his chest. He could feel the way your pussy spasmed, struggling to adjust to his thick cock splitting you apart.

The immense warmth of your cunny had him reveling, thighs twitching and flexing as you constricted around his girth, his pelvis brushing past your aching clit. He let out a strained moan, nuzzling his nose into your skin, inhaling your sweet aroma. God, he could never get tired of the soft smell of vanilla and flour, reminiscing of the day he first walked into your family's restaurant.

It seemed heavenly almost, seemingly reliving the first night the two of you were intimate, except now, you two imprinted your bodies into your very family home. "Kyojuro, f-feels so… so good! Ah, love—mnnn….!" You whine, raking your nails across his shoulder blades.

"Shh, q-quiet, my love…," Kyojuro rasps, knowing the moment you start babbling, your orgasm would follow. Every stroke had your head spinning, needing more. "God… just–just a little longer… need you – mmh, fu—ck – to hold your pretty moans in… C-Can you do that for me?"

He had been right as you ignored his pleads. You throw your head into the pillow, his name weakly rolling off your tongue as your body goes slack, releasing over Kyojuro’s length, weeping pussy painting a thick layer of your mellow slick on his shaft. Soft noises left him as your cunt swallowed him greedily into a snug grip at the moment of your orgasm. Hot breath fans against your flesh, kissing along your shoulder and across your collarbone. Fuck, you were tipping him over the edge, the thought of filling you up and having you carry the next line of Rengoku men making his chest swell.

"Mmm, G-God…," he groans, the deep moan falling past his lips as he sinks back in, eyes shutting tight the moment he grounds into your tepid heat. Blood rushing and the balls tightening, he starts chasing his own high, pumping desperately into you as quietly as he could. The man rolled his hips at the end of each thrust, groaning at the sensation of your fluttering walls pushing against him, repeatedly pulling out until the bulbous crown of his cock remained, slamming in and leaving you breathless against him.

He wraps an arm around your torso, balancing himself on one of his forearms whilst pulling you impossible close, thrusting sloppily into you with strained moans. His entire body convulses, a groan drumming in his throat as he unravels, hips stuttering as he spills into you. Thick ropes of fertile cum coat your womb and he pulls out with a gasp. Fluids trickled from your heat and he bashfully looked away.

Kyojuro collapsed beside you, falling on his side, panting quietly whilst staring at your glossy face. He gulped, blinkling back his own tears. "I love you, [Name]... more than anyone else," he whispers, caressing your cheek with his knuckles before cupping your face. "Thank you for agreeing to become my wife….”

Your lips tremble as you stiffle a sob, closing your eyes and placing your hand over his own, his fingers resting on your hip."I love you too, Kyojuro… Hah, I'm so…. I'm so happy.... you chose me...."

“I wouldn’t have it any other way….”

For a couple hours, you laid in his embrace, slumbering peacefully, believing he did the same. But he stayed awake, watching every rise and fall of your chest with a smile of content. Soon, he’d be able to see this everyday. After cleaning up, you two were careful to make sure your parents had not awoken as you gathered your personal items together, both small and large.

In the wee hours of the night before the crack of dawn, Kyojuro helped you pack your things into a bag, carrying them on his shoulders without so much as a complaint, ready to start his life with you. Yet, even as you were prepared to leave, you felt the least you owe your parents — who gave you everything and gave you the best life they could — an explanation. With trembling hands, you poured your thoughts and emotions into the letter, clarifying your departure from the house and how despite their best efforts, you fell in love with Kyojuro Rengoku. Tearing up, you were honest that because you knew they would never accept him and try to keep you apart from him, you two would elope, far away from them.

As the sun began to rise and peek through the mountains, the two of you took off and never looked back. To where? You didn’t know. But as long as you were together, any place was home. As long as Kyojuro was by your side, you did not care.

The Heart of the Dragon was a mystic potency in the life cycle of nature, but when set ablaze, it was a force to be reckoned with — especially when protecting the one they hold dear most.

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

𝐵𝑜𝑛𝑢𝑠 𝑆𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑒: [𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑖𝑔𝑛𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑒 𝑖𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑒𝑒 𝑖𝑡 𝑎𝑠 𝑎𝑛 𝑎𝑙𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔].

It's been a few months since you have eloped, as well as a while since the night you and Kyojuro slept together as husband and wife, a unique way of officiating your union without the blessing of either your families or a priest.

Of course, once you arrived at the Ubuyashiki Estate, you two were granted the wedding you dreamt of, with the Head of the Corps presiding. You looked so beautiful dressed in white, like an angel, and throughout the ceremony, neither you nor Kyojuro could take your eyes of each other. Not until your vows were sealed with a kiss did you two finally take in your surroundings. The blooming smiles and wide grins of the Pillars made your heart swell, knowing you had a new found family now, who fully supported your and Kyojuro's love.

And neither of you couldn't be happier - especially with a new life on the way. The man didn't let you lift a finger and pampered you excessively. Oftentimes, Kyojuro would laugh whenever the baby kicked your stomach, beaming as he said, "Hahah! They're just like their father — full of energy and ready to see the world already!"

Rolling your eyes, you smile wryly, peering at him occasionally whilst he rubs your swollen tummy. "Mhm, with a ravenous appetite too…," you mumble in between bites of your onigiri. He just couldn't wait to see his child, already tittering with names to possibly name them.

Every few days, he made sure you were participating in his family's long held tradition when carrying a child. In an effort to not let you be alone, he spends the two hours with you staring at the flaming torch, holding your hand and occasionally squeezing it. It made the experience all the more special.

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.

Though, for the time being, you were staying at the Butterfly Mansion in the last month of your pregnancy in case you went into labor early. The caterpillar girls aided you with glee during the time your husband was not available, determined you never exerted yourself. It was quite adorable really how they became excited when the baby kicked, chittering on how they couldn't wait to see them once they were born.

Though you knew Kyojuro would stop you one he found out, you helped in the kitchen and made many delicious meals for the household, always making sure each belly was full. Shinobu appreciated your help and often checked your health whenever she was home, the two of you chattering.

You make me happy, when skies are gray.

However, Kyojuro received a new mission and had already departed to attend, promising you he would be back in time to see you give light to your child. He mentioned he sent a letter to his father's estate to notify them of your child's birth soon, hoping at the least, his father and brother got to know the new addition to the family.

Kneeling at your bedside, Kyojuro pressed a kiss to your temple, a kiss to your stomach, and a kiss to your lips. He pulled away and whispered with a soft smile, resting his hand on your tummy as he felt the prodding of the fetus kicking, "I love you, my sunshine… I'll be back in time for our son's birth…"

"I love you too, my love, but what if it's a girl?"

He hums, corners of his eyes crinkling as his lips stretch wider, "Then I hope she is as beautiful and healthy as her wonderful mother."

As you bid each other goodbye, you could not help the uneasiness pooling in your stomach. Yet you ignored it and continued your regular day, awaiting the return of your husband.

You'll never know, dear, how much I love you.

If only you knew it would be the last time you'd see him again, then you wouldn't have let him leave in the first place.

So please, don't take my sunshine away.

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

©ʀᴀɴᴅʏɴᴏᴠᴀ || ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ || ɴᴏ ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs, ᴇᴅɪᴛs, ᴄᴏᴘʏɪɴɢ, ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛɪɴɢ, ᴇᴛᴄ. ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴄɪʀᴄᴜᴍsᴛᴀɴᴄᴇs.

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mariellewritesalot · 5 months

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14 Going on 24: To All the Girls I've Been Before

Sometimes I still feel like a teenager in my twenties.

Except not really, because I turn 24 in a few days and I find myself in a small town in Sevilla, Spain with my own apartment just a 6-minute walk from the high school I'll be working in for a school year. I'm doing adult things, like going to the local bakery to order a cake for myself and two boxes of pastries to share with the faculty, paying my own bills, cooking all my meals, booking train tickets for the holidays, and reserving a table at a restaurant in full Spanish without panic. My real teenage self had different dreams fed to her by the innate trophy-daughter urge to please her parents: go to law school, find a nice Catholic boy to marry, and stay in the Philippines forever.

You might have seen it on social media, the teenage girl in her twenties meme. It's a revival of everything we've ever loved growing up as girls together. It's a nice thing, this reclamation of girlhood. An attempt to somehow heal our inner children and reminisce on the times when we were only imagining what it would be like to be an adult. The mythical womanhood. A real 13 going on 30 dilemma. I wish we weren't in such a rush to grow up, but that's the irony of it all. As a grown woman, I often wonder about the girl I was, because despite all this I know I will never be her again.

She was ambitious, naive, too nice, but also a little arrogant it intimidated a lot of people with whom she could have been really good friends. I try to think fondly of the girl I was, and I honor her by preserving some of her interests that will never really go away, even now. I remember every young adult series I was ever obsessed with, alongside the sitcoms with each season I had saved on my netbook. I used to make physical mix CDs and now I curate Spotify playlists. I still get a little excited when a One Direction song plays out of the blue. I hear an indie song from years ago, like now as I type this while Cigarette Daydreams by Cage the Elephant is playing, and wish I could hear it for the first time again. I see old Facebook posts made by teenage me and chuckle at her drama. I unironically consume the Twilight Saga media when I feel a little sad, no matter how cringy people make it out to be. I love pink, books, letters, and stickers. I know every High School Musical song by heart. I have a weirdly specific knowledge of R&B and Hip-hop songs inherited from my brothers. I pray the same prayer at night, the one taught by my parents when I still shared a bedroom with them until I was fifteen.

A little confession: sometimes, despite loving the fact that I am wildly independent, I still miss having my mother around; even if it means having the occasional petty fights. Along with the tiny resentments of never fully living up to the image in her head, failing some of the dreams she also had as a girl, and rejecting the projection. I'm the most stubborn person I know, but sometimes I wish I could crawl under her table at her old office as I did so many times before, and cry before taking that nap I so vehemently refused but always took.

I look at old photos of myself as a teen and wish I was kinder to that girl, so I could unlearn the mean things I think about myself on occasion. One night on a casual doomscroll on Twitter, I read something along the lines of us seeing different versions of ourselves over the years and yearning for those times, how we never fully appreciate the current version until they become another face in a photo from years ago. A memory you didn't know you'd create.

I think about the people I had in my life then: friends, mentors, crushes, classmates, crappy boyfriends (ugh), and want to forgive her for the poor life decisions. She was forgiving to a fault after all, but she still makes me so proud when I remember how she learned her boundaries and stuck with them in the most crucial moments. The ones who were meant to stay are still with me to this day, the others who left have also left their mark on this version of me now, in some way. Some people have already arrived and others I'm looking forward to meeting soon. The growing pains feel especially potent as I continue to learn that change is constant and that sometimes who or what I want isn't necessarily good for me. The universe makes it known too often; I have to learn it by heart at some point.

Ultimately, I'd like to think she'd be so proud of me. Maybe, I turned out better than she hoped. I could also be such a stranger to her, a disappointment; her preparation for the real world. I still have a lot of work to do before I'm the adult she would have trusted and aspired to be, but knowing I'm on that path makes me confident that I can handle my problems like a grown-up. Being in my early twenties is to straddle the line between too young and too old, wanting to always do the mature thing, but sometimes still feeling like I'm a kid playing the role of someone who has it together. I don't. I don't think anyone does, really, not even older adults I know with much more interesting stories and problems. I try not to control everything and let things be because sometimes it's the only thing to do. Plans do fail, but somehow, things always work out for the better.

When I think of that transition from being just a girl to an adult with actual consequences, I remember Rory Gilmore crying in front of her grandfather at the end of Gilmore girls season 5; when she realized that she was no longer the golden child she was, but a young adult that might not be good enough for all of her aspirations.

I think about such tender moments of my girlhood, all the times I was teased for being chubby or having curly, unruly hair that earned me nicknames like Lion King or Hagrid. The first time I ever wore eyeliner to a family Christmas party, an uncle commented with such disdain, thinking I was doing it for attention. I'm weirdly familiar with terms like "malandi" or its English variations, even when I was just being friendly. In my first high school relationship, people gossiped about how my then-boyfriend was only with me so he could get higher grades, not for my looks. I know how they talked about a relationship they knew nothing about, completely overlooking how much I was hurt by this boy they adored just because he played some sport. I remember being a teenager, learning what it means to be attracted to another person romantically, and having a relative tell my mom, "Marielle's so into boys, ano?" even when I was single at the time and didn't really care for anything but starting college. There were weird older men who were creeps, and yet somehow I was made out to be some kind of a mastermind that lured them in. I was just a girl.

The beauty and innocence of girlhood are also marred by these moments of misogyny, sadly looking like a rite of passage every girl I know has gone through--one way or another.

At 16, all the pain I felt then felt like the rest of my life. A few days shy of 24, I realize that some pains are just too great that they will always stay, faintly, but life is so ridiculously unpredictable that there is no way we'll live on without incredible moments to show for it.

I look back on the year I just had in disbelief because so much has happened, most of them completely unexpected while others were dreams I worked hard to make my reality. I finished my undergraduate thesis on Filipino food and restaurants in the Filipino-American diaspora and graduated Magna Cum Laude from UP Diliman. I was in love with someone who I thought fit me so perfectly and felt the full aftermath of that heartbreak, lamented the impossibility of long-distance relationships, and believed I'd never do better; only to discover more about myself in the next few months and move on to a more beautiful love I never thought possible. I got into the 61st Silliman University National Writers Workshop, on my first (and could have been last, because I didn't know then when I'd be back in the PH) try, and spent two magical weeks in Dumaguete learning more about writing with the most amazing group of writers I now consider another chosen family.

I also outgrew some close friends. I had to process this unworldly form of devastation by going through all the stages of grief a million times over. I've reflected on what I can do better to nurture my relationships, and grown more appreciative of the unconditional friendships I have that continue to withstand time. I kept learning Spanish for two years and moved to Spain to explore more opportunities. It's been one of the most interesting years of my life so far, the emotions rising and falling like waves that sometimes consumed me whole. I've been through so much in year 23 that I'm both thrilled and horrified for the big 24, a year away from my expected quarter-life crisis.

I've always loved birthdays, by the way, and maybe I'll move on from it the older I get. I always look forward to the sweet messages and spending time with my friends and family. I like welcoming another year as an opportunity for me to try and do better. For this year, though, I don't have solid plans. It's on a Monday and I have classes to teach until 2:30pm. I reserved a cake with flowers all around it and a dedication written in Spanish, something the lady at the bakery wrote for me. I might take a few pictures with my film camera, invite some work colleagues for drinks, and cook Filipino spaghetti the way my mom does it. Maybe I'll call her, think of the ending to the movie, Lady Bird (2017). I could take the bus to the city center or enjoy a nice dinner alone with my Kindle. I might take calls from my friends and cry over their messages, miss everyone a little deeper.

I'll never be the girl I was, but she's still inside me somewhere. There's comfort in the growth. How to Say Goodbye by Paul Tiernan is playing through my laptop speakers. Someday, I'll look back to this time and remember what it felt like to anticipate my 24th birthday in Spain: a little lonely, slightly thrilling, and inevitably different.

I'll be changed, but not really--and it will be okay.

#mariellewritesalot #daily life blog posts #24th #birthday essay #girlhood

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kannra21 · 4 years

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This time I watched Fugou Keiji Balance: Unlimited for real, meaning that all this knowledge I gained about that series from the previous time was just facts coming from different posts on Tumblr. And I got to know a lot about it thanks to you. You guys were a big help in figuring out some of the series' most important aspects, I appreciate your input on it.

Now that I’ve watched both episodes. I’m going to comment on some things I haven’t seen people talking much about, I’ll try giving it some highlight so I hope you enjoy.

1) The millionaire detective *or smtng more than that*-

Many expect the main character of the series to present himself in a way that he says his name and what he does for life, to give us an insight into who he is and to give us a better idea of what to expect of the series. But instead, the first episode opens with "I had a father and I had a mother", the series opens with a tragic story and tells us about the rich person's unfortunate life. Why's that? It's very important for Daisuke's character. Because, as we go through the series, the author probably predicted that audience would start judging him according to the way he treats people and work, just like Kato always does. The author tries to warn us not to judge a book by its covers. That's why it is so important that the beginning of the series opens this way.

2) Daisuke's and Kato's teamwork-

Daisuke, being a highly classified detective, knows his rights and what he can and can not do, which he exploits a great deal. He can damage people's vehicles and traffic control but he doesn't care, bc he's a detective and bc the law is on his side. He's using this same knowledge to reach his goal faster without wasting time on things that aren't that important, which means, morally or ethically important. Emotions like insecurity, guilt and regret aren't welcomed in this job. Sensitivity to other people's needs before yours are also irrelevant. Traumatizing a mother and a child from almost getting ran over isn't something that he'd preoccupy his mind with too much. He cares about the sufficiency of the mission and working in the favor of the government, as Ryo himself said.

Kato, on the other hand, is different. People come to him in the first place and the most important thing for him is to bring them peace and security, things that all police officers should actually have in mind. He is everything that Daisuke is not.

And when he told him "You're making quite the show here. How are you going to take responsibility for this?", we can notice that something clicked in Daisuke, that he told himself "ugh I went too far I should do something about it". And then he called HEUSC and told him to send reimbursements for DOUBLE the damage costs he caused for certain people. He also gave the Abura Emirate's seventh prince a billion yen when the car didn't even cost that much. So it’s evident that Daisuke does possess feelings like guilt, he just needs to be reminded of it.

The same goes for that scene when he tried to drop the vehicle into the river, Kato reached for the girl and told her to jump out. Daisuke doesn't care if she's a kid or if she's going to explode together with the van. It is important to him to save the rest + the kids are also considered criminals, he will take it upon himself to judge them as they actually deserved it. Kato, unlike him, can't let himself do that, he just can't. That's why he saved her and let her be with Hiroshi again. I love Kato for that.

Maybe Daisuke is a sufficient detective but Kato is there to remind him that the things he's doing aren't ok. He's giving him a sense of morality and ethics and that's why I think they're put together bc they make a great team. And they truly do, the problem is, Kato can't stand him. 😅

3) This funny moment-

I love how Kamei in the second episode found out ab the tragic death of some woman by going through one of his inappropriate sites and he's like: "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!"

Kato *annoyed bc he's as well judging him for his perverted ways and lack of devotion towards work*: "Shut up Kamei."

Kamei *big sad*: "It says she died from a drug overdose. That centerfold model Akiko Hoshida..."

Kato: "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA??!! SERIOUSLY?"

Which leads me to the conclusion that:

Kato isn't that much different from Kamei.

Kato prefers only a specific type of women while Kamei drolls over every woman who looks even remotely pretty.

Kato has a type because the deceased centerfold model Akiko Hoshida and Suzue look very alike. Kato is also into "innocent" women bc he himself is innocent, as Akira stated. + He knows how to cook, refuses to drink alcoholic beverages during work hours and is actually pretty soft. Kato is more lovable than Daisuke in those aspects.

4) Kato's cluelessness-

Because of being so innocent, Kato doesn't have the ability to criticize others or judge "the way they breathe". He's too good, too considerate, too emphatic. That's why Daisuke's here to break his pretty picture of the world they're living in.

Kato was so easily deceived by the street performers and it was actually funny. Why would they do it otherwise than for money? No one wants to make an idiot out of themselves without a certain price.

He also thought of Suzue as one of them, the drug dealers I mean, acting as liaison. And it made me laugh so much bc he didn't know what's going to hit him. 😂

5) HEUSC-

I love HEUSC so much, this technology stuff is so lit, I wish I had it. It can detect lies, analize time, deduce certain information just from the help of a person's credit card, how much income they have, how much they lost over a couple of days, when and where, what were they buying. It can detect a person, personal information ab where they're from, age and date of birth. It also shows the person's heart rate. It can even work as a magnifier and control the traffic lights, isn't it crazy??

Daisuke's heart rate is always 60 during the whole interrogation. He's so freaking calm.

You also need to understand that Daisuke's session lasted longer than Cho-san's who used weak points such as family members and sense of right and wrong. Daisuke needed some time until their negotiation was done, he gave money to a drug addict in exchange for an information while Cho-san didn't lose anything, he could as well just deceive his suspect and get away with it.

Take into account that Daisuke went through a special training in England so his protocols are different from the normal Japanese ones.

6) Daisuke's jealousy-

Lmao Daisuke is stealing friends. He invited Akira to his own ramen during their Isezaki case.

He said "I can risk my life for Kato" and omg let me tell you, Daisuke became jealous so he made a move and even paid him to get into a costume to lure Kato and the rest of the hooligans to the top.

7) The elevator scene-

Kato standing in the middle of the elevator and Daisuke standing close to the corner as pinned as possible is what made my day. 😂

8) On the rooftop-

Daisuke's heart rate is 72 when shooting from a bazooka in the helicopter. Still too calm but I'd say that he's in a good physical condition considering that he's into boxing.

BTW he accidentally shoot towards Kato bc his target wasn't detected, it only wrote "primary target", he didn't do it on purpose.

But the sole thought of "stank needs to be eliminated" gets me every time. 😂

9) Daisuke joining the MCI-

Daisuke circled around the topic and refused to give the answer about why he decided to become a detective by redirecting the conversation towards Kato.

Let me tell you something, I watched too many crime series to know why he did that.

The reason is very personal.

And at the beginning of the whole anime he introduced himself to us with “I had a father and I had a mother”. I think he's trying to find the culprit for his parent's murder.

10) His lack of sleep-

Although he has lots of money, people like Daisuke tend to afford themselves a nice and cozy sleep. Despite that, Daisuke has as much under eyes as Kato. Which makes me wonder what keeps him awake at night, what's he thinking ab. Is he traumatized in a way? I can't wait for the next episodes to arrive!

Btw while watching the anime I fell in love with Kato even more, such a great character.

#fugou keiji balance unlimited #fugou keiji balance: unlimited #the millionaire detective balance balance: unlimited #the millionaire detective balance: unlimited #daisuke kambe #suzue kambe #haru kato #analysis

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starrysebastians · 4 years

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Of blood, sweat and mishaps

Summary : you’ve had a long journey in order to fight your way back home, and home sometimes holds surprises. Destroyer!Chris x reader, description of violence and sex. (i’ve never written smut before i have literally no idea what i’m doing don’t mind me)

This was written for @baezen’s the other guys writing challenge, with the prompt : i really wish you told me your mother was in town ; thank you for giving love to these other guys, I hope this will do!!

It’s already dark outside when you leave the building, duffel bag hastily swung over your shoulders without you even registering its weight on your bruised body — you’ve been carrying this thing for over a month and you’ve become immune to it. Rather, your shoulders already constantly hurt and it doesn’t matter anymore because you just want to go home and spend an entire hour in a hot bath to wash away all the sweat and blood and dirt of the last few weeks.

"Hey!" You stop in your tracks, a tilt of your head being the only sign that you have actually heard and acknowledged the voice of your colleague rushing behind you, the precinct doors slamming behind the both of you. "Are you sure you don’t need a lift?"

Sam catches up with you, a little out of breath, probably because he took the stairs and tried to beat you to the door. You smile, shaking your head. He’s looking you up and down and you know he wants to say you clearly are in no state to drive, or even to be standing upright. And driving you to your appartement isn’t a problem because it’s on his way to his own.

"It’s okay. I think I’m gonna crash at Chris’, it’s closer anyway." You shift from one foot to another, transferring the weight of your body and your weapons on the leg that hurts the least. Sam’s face morphs into understanding, a knowing smile stretching on his lips. You want to roll your eyes, but you can’t help but chuckle.

"Right." He nods, taking a step back, then lifts up his chin. "Take the week off, you deserve it."

"Wasn’t planning on asking for permission, but I’m glad to know my break was approved."

He snorts, probably because you both know it’s true that you never ask for permission and you’re one of those agents who are literally their own boss, to their partners and bosses’ despair. It usually works out, and you’re one of their best. You’re about to cross the street when Sam’s voice echoes again in the busy street, slightly muffled by the sound of cars, honks, suitcases rolling on the ground, hitting holes and bumps on the pavement, the same ones that make people trip on their own feet.

"He was worried about you." You’re not facing your literal partner in crime anymore, and you don’t turn around to show him your little smile, but he probably knows anyway.

Green lights turn to red and you breathe in before crossing the street, taking in the sky and the stars starting to appear and twinkle around a full moon, clouds almost perfectly still on this day — it was sunny, apparently, but you spent the first half of the day fighting your way home, the other half writing a report and delivering long-awaiting data and compromising documents to the Bureau. Then you had to spend another hour promising everyone you were alright and not injured to the point where you had to go to a hospital, and now you could finally go home.

And in that case home isn't necessarily your cosy apartment, the one you had just finished re-painting and decorating before you left for your mission, but as cheesy at it sounds, home might have become a person.

It takes you less than fifteen minutes to reach his apartment complex, but at least seven to cross the stairs when you realize the elevator still hasn't been fixed, painfully dragging your battered body up the wooden steps, a hand pressed to your ribs and stomach, and finally, another three minutes to dig out your spare key from that little pocket in your duffel bag, hand shaking as you miss the keyhole a few times before getting it right.

You don’t bother knocking or making your presence officially known because even though you've been gone for a month no one else has that key and he probably heard that your mission was over anyway. The slam of the door echoes behind you and you audibly groan, voicing your pain and exhaustion for the first time today.

"Honey I’m home," you call out sarcastically, letting your duffel bag hit the floor with a loud thump, slowly shrugging your leather jacket off — it falls from the coat hanger as you turn around but you don’t bother picking it up. Your body wouldn’t let you. "Remember when I said I was going on a small mission that would only take a few days? Well I was wrong."

Something drops on the kitchen table. A knife, a fork, a spoon — whatever, but something drops and clings and you hear him cough. A chair scrapping against the floor. You enter the bathroom. You smirk at your reflection in the mirror, splashing your face with water and watching droplets of blood trail down your cheeks and neck, hitting your already stained shirt.

"Turns out, it was the same group of freaking mad scientists we thought we dismantled last time. You know, that time Sam got shot?" You turn the faucet off. "So I had to stay undercover the whole month." Hands all dried up, hair tied into a messy bun. A band-aid covering the cut on your forehead. Cream on your nose and bloody lip. "So. Yeah. That wasn’t planned."

You exit the bathroom, passing the entrance again, carefully avoiding tripping on your discarded combat boots lying on the wooden floor. They're full of mud and there is probably a lot of blood that you can't see. It’s usually very neat and clean here, all sorts of shoes lined up and in their place, a spotless wooden floor that contrasts with the white walls, and Chris would probably scold you if you didn't have a valid excuse right now.

You sigh, feet following the noise. "And my cover got blown yesterday. It was honestly one of the hardest missions I have ever been on." You shiver, pausing for a second as you close your eyes and try to shake flashbacks and images off your mind. You clear your throat, plastering a smile on your face even though Chris can't see you yet.

"Anyway — " There’s a small table right at the entrance of the living room, where you drop your gun and badge with a deafening bang.

There’s a small shit that’s being muttered over and over again but that you don’t really register, still not looking up. " — now that I killed them all I’m allowed to discuss secret details — remember their boss, Helmer? That was a nasty fight, ugh. I had to shoot him at point-blank range and I think I’ve still got pieces of his stupid brain in my hair." You shudder. "Ugh." You massage the back of your neck, rolling your head from left to right, cracking your bloody knuckles, while taking in the smell of his cooking with closed eyes.

You follow the smell, smiling softy as you enter the kitchen.

"Hey!" Chris rushes out of the room at the same time you step in, eyes wide as he takes in your form, his hands gently grabbing your forearms, caging you. Gently, tenderly, as his fingers run on your skin, but with a grip that feels urgent.

"Hey," you reply more softly, your voice still raspy. You blink, head titled to the side, grabbing onto him as well. Your hands find his toned stomach, relishing the warmth you have missed as you sigh contently. You refrain from resting your forehead on his chest, remembering the blood still splattered on your face and burning your skin, and the smell that has been invading your senses ever since you escaped literal hell.

So you gently cup his face with your hand, thumb brushing against his skin before stepping aside in order to enter the kitchen. Chris' arms reach out to you, in an attempt to keep you from entering the room, but you slip out of his embrace.

"Wait — "

"Oh — "

Your breath gets stuck in your threat, everything going still around you. You can’t even gasp or express your surprise, because every single bone and cell in your body has gone completely rigid. You stand here by the door, Chris' arms still outstretched in vain behind you, a new set of eyes staring back at you.

"You're… — " You gulp. No. “I didn't know you had company.”

Not like this. It can't go like this. This gaze is unblinking, confused, curious, disgusted as it seems to scrutinize your outfit — ripped combat pants looking huge compared to your small feet and their dirty socks stained with mud and dust. Crumpled white shirt — more red than white. There's a wound on your stomach that won't stop bleeding. Arms painted red, blue and black with scratches and bumps and dirt smeared across your skin. Swollen lips parted and face sporting what probably looks like the stupidest facial expression ever.

Your hand find the back of your neck, angrily scratching your already chafed skin as you feel the discomfort settle into your chest, until you hear Chris clear his throat behind you, hand gently peeling your fingers off your skin, then sliding down to rest on the small of your back. You wince and it doesn't go unnoticed.

"Y/N," Chris sports a smile that looks very painful, mentally and physically. "Mom. Mom, Y/N. My colleague." A side glance. “And girlfriend.”

There’s a small beat of silence where you think you’re going to pass out. She manages to look so composed despite her eyes literally screaming terror and horror and get this woman out of my son’s appartement ; and you, the FBI agent, look like a deer caught in headlights, a stuttering mess, shoulders dropped in despair. Maybe she would do a better job at being an undercover agent.

"I - shouldn’t shake your hand. Or, touch you...at all. I think you can guess why. See why. Clearly see why," your voice wavers. "But, um. It’s very nice to meet you. Ma’am. I should probably take a shower." You turn around, avoiding Chris' gaze, but only taking a few steps before stopping and turning back to him, resignation painted on your features.

You sigh, and try to whisper as you add : "I didn’t want to go to the hospital but I kinda need you to stitch me up right now." His blue eyes go to your stomach and his hand to his forehead, rubbing it tiredly.

"Yeah," he nods before twisting his body to face his mother, still quietly sitting at the dinner table. "Mom, I need to take care of her. We'll be here in half an hour, okay?"

You don't wait for her answer before heading straight to the bathroom, sitting on the toilet seat with your eyes closed and lips in a thin line. You hear his feet on the bathroom tiles, the sound of his dress shirt ruffling as he crouches down in front of you, palms spreading warmth on your aching thighs.

"Hey," he mutters again, soft eyes looking up through his lashes as you open your own. The beginning of a smile and a small greeting is quickly turned into a wince as his fingers gently lift the hem of your top, to fabric sticking to your skin. "Sorry."

You stay silent, sighing and hissing and biting your lower lip as your eyes stay glued to the ceiling. Chris works in silence, like he always does, and like you always do when the roles are reversed. What is there to talk about? You both know it hurts, you both know the other is sorry that they're hurting you, and it's part of the job. But the silence isn't really about your wounds right now, and you're too mortified to even glance at his face. His bottom lip is probably stuck between his teeth, eyebrows set into a focused frown, hands steady as yours still tremble from this encounter.

"All done." Hands gently pressing a bandage to your wound then sliding back to your thighs, a sigh escaping his lips.

You meet his gaze and there's this small pause where you gaze into someone's eyes and both of you are serious but you don't know if it's truly serious or if you should laugh. You raise your eyebrows, slowly, gradually, until a smirk makes its way on your fellow agent's lips.

"You do have bits of…red stuff…in your hair."

You chortle, throwing your head back, tension in the shoulders easing.

You put your hands on his shoulders as your legs spread to let him get closer to you, between your knees, and as you look down to him and his locks you feel a sense of comfort wash over you - it's been a month, and you’ve missed his hair and the smell of his shampoo.

"You could have warned me," you say. Fingers trail along his neck, beard tickling your palm and fingers. Traces of his last undercover mission are almost gone - shaven head and this sort of big goatee. It wasn’t your favorite look on him ; and now he’s gone back to this softer version of himself.

"Yeah, well, that’s kinda hard when you disappear undercover for a month, right?"

He does have a point. He holds your gaze for a moment, a slight crease between his brows, and you exhale softly, watching as he looks down to your bare stomach, bloody shirt discarded on the cold floor.

"I'm sorry. You know how it works."

"Yeah, I do."

A small pause, where you both get closer, fingers tangling in his hair, tugging, scratching.

"Maybe you can make it up to me."

"I have bits of brain in my hair." Chris' lips find the sensitive spot behind your ear, along your neck, your collarbones. Protests dying away and replaced by whimpers, already desperate for more. It has been a long month.

"Good thing we're in the bathroom, right?"

Hot breath on your skin, face nuzzling between your breasts, down your stomach, carefully avoiding your bandage as your back arches. It doesn't take long for you to find yourself pressed against a tile wall, legs wrapped around his bare body, limbs quivering - pleasure, the exhaustion of the day and the last month.

The sound of water hitting your bodies before crashing on the floor is enough to conceal your frantic heartbeats, strangled whimpers and mutters, feverish pleas. A fuck escapes your lips in the form of a low moan, Chris’ lips crashing into yours in an attempt to hold in the sound. A hungry kiss, sweet, loving, yearning.

"I've missed you - so - much." It comes out as three little gasps, matching each thrust into your body, each time your back hits the wall, each time you feel like you're finally complete. The pull in your chest, heart - it's so fierce. It almost hurts, how much you've missed him.

"Every day - " A muffled moan, fingers digging into the skin of his tense back. "I was just trying - to come back to you."

Skin prickling and tingling as droplets of water follow the curve of your tangled bodies, chills running down your spines, he buries his face into the crook of your neck as the last thrust takes all the strength that was left in your body. And as you're left quivering and panting and heaving, in this daze, there's this shared gaze that holds a thousand moments - everything it took to get here. Dodging, hitting, ducking, kicking, shooting, stabbing. Blood splattered on your face, the taste of iron in your mouth, the smell of death forever rooted in your senses. The lethal instinct that overtakes your whole body and mind when you have to fight your way home.

A throaty laugh resonates in the bathroom, traces of blood on the floor soon wiped clean, sewing kit back to the white closet right above that plant you insisted on buying specifically for his bathroom, ruined shirt thrown into a corner as if the laundry basket wasn't right next to him - you don't comment on that, relishing the feeling of a warm towel on your skin with your eyes closed and head thrown back. Different moans this time, as you get dressed painfully.

It takes a few minutes for someone to talk again, steam still fogging up the room, warmth embracing you. The mirrors are misty, and so is your mind. You roll your head from right to left, make your neck crack, stretch as far as your body lets you.

"Well," Chris drawls out lazily, visibly fighting a smirk. "I have to go back. I suppose you want to stay in my room and avoid further humiliation?"

You huff, dragging a hand across your face. "Scared I'm gonna start another extremely graphic depiction of my mission? I bet she wants to hear more about bits of scattered brain."

You wince as your hear yourself - it's gross.

"I really wish you had told me your mother was in town."

#togwc #destroyer #destroyer!chris x reader #destroyer!chris x you

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sinsiriuslyemo · 4 years

Text

Happy new year, dearest readers! Let’s start off the new year with a little Rabastian!

10. 2014

DECEMBER 30, 2013

“That was hilarious,” Sebastian said with a grin as he and Rafael walked out of the Walter Kerr theater.

After he’d gotten out of yet another pretrial motion filed by William Lewis’ lawyer, Rafael had been anxious to go see a show with the pianist that had been on his mind the entire day. He’d gone home to change and walked to Sebastian’s apartment. Upon seeing the musician, Rafael instantly felt the day’s tension leave his shoulders.

“Jefferson Mays has never disappointed me,” he said as Sebastian’s hand naturally found his and laced their fingers together.

“I know, he is so amazing, I’d watch him in just about anything,” the pianist replied. “And the fact that he played all those roles--”

“--Oh, I know, he was brilliant,” Rafael said, holding up a hand to hail a cab.

“Thanks again for bringing me,” Sebastian replied, gently squeezing the other man’s hand and dropping a kiss on his lips.

“It was my pleasure,” Rafael said with a smile as they got into a cab.

“You hungry?”

“Yes, actually,” Rafael answered.

"What do you think, Italian?" Sebastian looked over at Rafael, who had slightly curled his top lip as he tilted his head to one side. "Okay, sushi?" The musician laughed at the grin of approval that graced the prosecutor's lips before he turned to the driver and gave him an address. He looked back to Rafael. "You're adorable when you speak with your expressions, you know that?"

"You're adorable, period," Rafael answered, sliding his gloved fingers between Sebastian's.

Ever since their first sexual experience together Christmas Day-night, he'd found himself thinking more and more about he and Sebastian planning a future together. He would often picture coming home to the musician working at his piano while a roast cooked in the oven. Or waking up to the feel of the other man's lips against his neck. He was well into a fantasy of he and Sebastian taking a trip around the world together when the pianist spoke again.

"Hey, listen, I was wondering...you spending New Years Eve with your family?" the musician asked, pulling him from his fantasies.

"No, I usually just spend it at home," Rafael answered. "Why?"

"Well, Casper and I usually spend it at his place and since Katie's living there now, I was hoping that maybe you would want to come too." The pianists eyes shifted nervously to their joined hands before coming back up to meet his own.

A slow smile came to Rafael's face as he shifted slightly to look at Sebastian. "You want me to spend New Years Eve with you?"

"Yeah, I-I know it's kinda last minute...I wasn't even sure if I should ask you, I mean...we've only been seeing each other a short--"

"--Stop," Rafael said softly, his easy smile stretching his lips. "I'd love to ring in the new year with you, Sebastian."

The pianist mirrored his grin and leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to his lips as the cab stopped at their destination. Paying for the cab, Sebastian tugged on Rafael's hand and they walked into the sushi bar together.

"You really spend New Years Eve by yourself?" he asked Rafael in a gentle voice after they'd been seated by the hostess.

The prosecutor bobbed his shoulders, opening the menu. "I usually have work to keep me busy. My mom has always said I could come with her to my aunt's house but...crime never sleeps, apparently. And my aunt lives in Kew Gardens, my mom usually spends the night. I have to work the following day, so…"

"Well, this year, you'll only be a few blocks away from home. No excuse. And no work either. We can leave early if need be, if you really need to get some work done, but while we're at Casper and Katie's, I want you to relax and have fun, deal?"

Rafael's lips stretched into a closed-mouth smile as he nodded. "Deal."

"Good."

"So Casper and Katie live together? How long have they been dating?"

Sebastian rolled his eyes. "Ugh, don't get me started on that. According to Casper, they're 'roommates'." He brought his fingers up to make air quotes as he again rolled his eyes. "And yet they've been sleeping in the same room and fucking for the last seven months. Oh and Katie definitely wants more. Casper's the neanderthal."

"Ugh," Rafael answered in a grimace.

"I know."

"Why hasn't he--"

"--I don't know," Sebastian replied with a chuckle, shaking his head as he looked down at the menu. "I told him he's a commitment-phobe. It's a shame, too, Katie's a good woman."

"Well, to be patient with that arrangement, I'd say she's a downright saint."

"Tell me about it," Sebastian said. "I told him last week he needs to shit or get off the pot. It's time, and the girl's earned the girlfriend title by now."

"I agree with that," Rafael replied. "Speaking of friends, I finally talked to Liv about the dinner party thing."

Sebastian looked up, setting his menu down. "And?"

"She said she didn't think I would go with all the other detectives there, and she apologized for making the assumption."

"See? I bet you feel better after talking to her," Sebastian said.

"I do actually. You were right," Rafael answered, smirking at the pianist.

"I'm glad. She seems nice. She doing any better after the...thing you were talking about?"

"She is...but the trial's coming up next week, I'm not sure she's ready to face him."

"Trial? What happened to her?" Sebastian asked. "Was she…"

Rafael sighed as he shook his head, brows raised on his forehead. "She says no, but I...I honestly don't know. I think she would've told me if he had. But even if he didn't, he still abducted her for three days...tortured her…he would've killed if she hadn't--"

His jaw clenched as he thought about the photos of Liv from the hospital, sleep-deprived, beaten and traumatized. He shook his head, trying to keep those images from tainting his evening with Sebastian. As if on cue, the musician reached across the table and placed a hand over his.

"Sounds to me like the guy deserves to fry," Sebastian said. "And I don't even believe in the death penalty."

"You don't?" Rafael replied indignantly, looking up at the pianist with his brows in waves.

Sebastian was a little taken back by his response, inching away from him slightly. "No...does that bother you?"

"For animals like William Lewis, I wish a firing squad were still an option," Rafael answered. "Some people deserve to die."

"That may be true, but who the hell are we to decide who lives and dies? The death penalty makes us just as bad as they are. Worse, actually...we bring in people to watch it go down."

"Your own mother was murdered, you wouldn't want to see the guy responsible pay for what he did?" Rafael asked, biting down on his tongue after the words had escaped his lips. The musician pulled his hand away and leaned back against his chair as Rafael shook his head and lowered his eyes, mouth hanging open. "I'm sorry, that was...outta line, I'm sor--"

"--You're right, it was outta line," the pianist replied.

Rafael could see a mixture of hurt and anger swirling in the blue of the other man's eyes and he lowered his own gaze, silently cursing his big mouth. He supposed it was only a matter of time before his words would work against him. It certainly hadn't been the first time he'd said something he immediately regretted thereafter. His tongue, however sharp and effective in a courtroom, may very well have just ruined the one good thing in his life.

Swallowing the lump that had begun to form in his throat, he inhaled silently and deeply, pursing his lips before he again reached across the table and looked up Sebastian, who now appeared to either be holding back tears or trying to keep himself from throttling the prosecutor. Maybe both.

"Sebastian, I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking, I..." The lawyer shook his head and bit down on his bottom lip, a small form of punishment, which paled in comparison to the offense. "I never should've said that."

The musician simply continued to stare at him as their server came to take their orders. It was then that Sebastian broke eye contact and looked up at her with a small smile before he gave her his order. Rafael followed suit, though instead of a polite smile he looked more like a child who'd been caught misbehaving. Only after she'd left did Sebastian speak again, this time directing his words to Rafael.

"I need to know you're not gonna use that against me every time we disagree," he said.

"No," Rafael answered immediately, shaking his head for good measure. "I promise you, it'll never happen again. I'm so sorry, Sebastian."

Sebastian nodded. "Okay," he whispered. "And just for the record, I never said that I wouldn't want my mother's killer to pay. It's just that my idea of vengeance is a lot darker than just a needle in the arm."

"It's justice, not vengeance," Rafael said with a frown.

Sebastian shook his head. "It's a quick fix for us and giving them the easy way out. I'd want to know that every morning I get to wake up, free as a bird, while he rots in a cell for the rest of his life. I'd want the option to be able to go to whatever prison he's in and watch him rot. Watch him suffer knowing he'll never see daylight again. The man who killed my mom doesn't get to rest in peace. I'd want him to live a long, miserable life in a four by four cell with nothing but time to think about everyone he ever hurt."

Rafael regarded the pianist with soft eyes as he picked up his water and took a sip while his eyes roamed their surroundings.

"They changed the lighting in here, I think," he said as his eyes once again settled on Rafael.

Smiling softly, the ADA reached across the table and laid a hand over the musician's forearm until he met Rafael's gaze.

"You're such a good man," he said.

Sebastian snorted softly. "I'm a good man because I want some piece of shit to suffer?"

"A piece of shit who would deserve to suffer. A piece of shit who took something from you that can never be replaced...but still you would spare his life. That's what makes you a good man. Most people would let him die. Want him to die."

Smirk tugging at his lips, Sebastian shrugged. "I'm not most people."

"I know," Rafael replied, using his thumb to stroke over the musician's hair-covered forearm.

"I think we just had our first fight," Sebastian said after a moment.

"Yeah, thanks to my big mouth," Rafael answered, lowering his eyes again.

"I love your mouth," the pianist said, turning his palm to face the ceiling, waiting for the lawyer's hand to slide over it. "Most of the time," he added with a teasing smirk.

Grinning back, Rafael brought the pianist hand up to place a firm kiss on his knuckles as in his mind he answered, I think I love you.

DECEMBER 31, 2013

Sebastian checked himself over in the mirror one last time after he heard the short rapping on the door, which he assumed was Rafael. They'd decided to meet up at Sebastian's and then go to Casper and Katie's together. Taking a deep breath, he tried to slow his racing heart by focusing on his breathing. Why was he so nervous? He and Rafael had been seeing each other for almost five months, they'd been on countless dates together, but never had they hung out with other people for an evening, least of all another couple and close friends of Sebastian's to boot.

It'll be fine, you idiot. Just open the door so he doesn't think you ditched him.

Clearing his throat, he took long strides to his front door and opened it to find Rafael in a pink polo shirt under a tan jacket and jeans, carrying a bottle of expensive-looking champagne. The musician couldn't help the grin that formed on his face as his eyes drank in the sight of the ADA over and over again.

"Wow. You look so good," he finally said, stepping aside to let the other man in as he gestured to the bottle. "You didn't have to bring anything."

"My mother taught me to never show up at someone's home without something in your hand," Rafael answered, closing the space between them to plant a kiss on the pianist's lips. "You look handsome, too."

Looking down at his fitted white thermal and dark stained jeans, Sebastian smoothed a hand over his shirt before his eyes came back up to meet Rafael's. "I may just say fuck it and keep you all to myself tonight."

"Well, you'll have me all to yourself later," the prosecutor replied, smirking suggestively as he laid another kiss on Sebastian's pout.

"Oh, no work this year?" the pianist teased.

"I had a reason to get it all done this afternoon," Rafael said.

There was no stopping the warmth that crept up Sebastian's neck at the thought of Rafael making sure to clear his evening just for him. As if he hadn't already had thoughts of Rafael coming home to him after a hard day in court, now he was fighting the urge to mentally plan their wedding.

"Should we go?" Sebastian asked, grabbing his jacket and putting it on.

"Yes," Rafael replied. "So is this the first holiday Katie and Casper are spending together, too?"

"They were...whatever they are for this past 4th of July, so, not exactly. But it is coming up on nine months they've been fucking." Sebastian locked the door behind him and followed Rafael downstairs and onto the sidewalk.

"You should just call it what it is," Rafael replied with a smirk. "They're dating. Who knows, maybe if you say it enough times, Casper will finally start referring to her as his girlfriend."

The pianist laughed as his fingers naturally laced with those of Rafael's while they walked up the street towards Casper and Katie's apartment building. The streets were relatively clear, the large majority of the city either at a New Years Eve party or in the restaurants that were scattered around The Village. No true New Yorker ever went near Times Square when they could have a far more comfortable view of the Rockin Eve festivities from their couch or on a rooftop.

"That's not a bad idea," Sebastian said. "Who knows, he may not even notice."

"How long have you known him?"

"Since we were, like, twelve. He lived in the building across the street from mine," Sebastian replied. "How about you and Olivia? How long have you guys known each other?"

"A little over a year now. Basically from the time I started working with Manhattan SVU. She's probably the closest thing I have to a friend left. The only other person that I would still consider a friend is...going through some things. I'm not sure if things will ever be the same between us," Rafael replied.

"What happened?"

Rafael sighed heavily, forcing a smile on his face as he looked over at Sebastian. "Alex Muñoz happened."

"That whole thing that went down a couple months back?"

Rafael nodded as they both came to a stop at the corner of the block. "We were all friends as kids. Alex had the looks, Eddie was the muscle and I was the mouth, of course."

"Course you were," Sebastian answered with a smirk, gently bumping the ADA's hip with his own.

Snorting softly, Rafael rolled his eyes just as the white figure appeared on the light across the street, indicating they could safely cross. "Eddie and I always had a special bond. A kind of unspoken connection...and we both always followed Alex. Until I went off to Harvard, Eddie stayed with Alex in the South Bronx, even became his bodyguard when he got into politics."

"So he was probably privy to a lot of the not so kosher shit Alex was doing."

Rafael nodded. "He was. He almost went to prison because of Alex."

"Why didn't he?"

"Because I convinced him to make a deal," Rafael answered in a barely audible voice. "He has a son, a mother to look after. Single dad, he's their only income. And I have no idea what he's gonna do now that Alex has been indicted. That whole ordeal just...it made me feel like a bad friend for leaving him."

Sebastian's thumb idly stroked over the glove covered skin between Rafael's knuckles. "You helped him stay outta prison, Raf. That sounds like a pretty great friend to me."

The corner of Rafael's lips curled upward slightly, his eyes lowered towards the sidewalk. He had never seen the prosecutor look so sad as when he talked about his childhood friends, and all Sebastian wanted to do at that moment was kiss every bad memory away.

"You should invite him to the club some night," he suggested, giving Rafael's hand a squeeze.

"I don't know," the ADA answered in a sigh.

"If he took your advice, that means he values your opinion...and with Alex gone, I'm sure he could use a friend he knows he can count on," Sebastian said as he streered them towards the entrance of a six story building. "Think about it."

Nodding gently, Rafael smiled at Sebastian as they walked to the elevator and waited for the doors to open. "I will."

"Good," the pianist answered, pulling his hand out of Rafael's to wind the arm around his waist. "Because I can't tell you just how badly I wanna hear all about what you were like as a kid."

Rafael laughed, letting his head fall back as he leaned into the other man's frame. "I can tell you. I was a nerd. Older kids in the neighborhood used to beat me up, take my lunch money. Eddie put a stop to that."

"Well then he sounds like a pretty great friend, too."

"He is," Rafael replied.

They stepped into the elevator and Sebastian hit the button for the fourth floor. "We're supposed to be getting a lot of snow in the next couple days."

"Yeah, I am not looking forward to that," Rafael replied in a sigh. "The commute to work is gonna be a nightmare."

"I can't say I envy you," Sebastian answered with a smirk. "That's probably the easiest part about my job, short commute."

"Your job must be nice. You get to play music all night, relaxed setting."

"It's got its difficulties like any other job. Mostly just people who drink a little too much and make asses of themselves. Doesn't happen too often, but still. Plus, it can get a little difficult to keep the sets fresh every night. There are only so many songs that are compatible with a piano arrangement."

"I, for one, wouldn't care if you played the same song on a loop every night. Your voice is so beautiful," Rafael answered, leaning his forehead against Sebastian's temple.

Turning his head to stare into the prosecutor's emerald eyes, Sebastian grinned and closed the space between them just as the elevator dinged softly and the doors began to slide open again.

"THEY'RE HERE!" he heard Katie yell.

Breaking their kiss, Sebastian turned his head to see the petite brunette standing in the hallway with a beer.

"Jesus Christ, woman. What the hell are you doing?" he asked. "You started without us?" He gestured to the bottle in her hand as he and Rafael got out of the elevator and walked towards her.

"Casper didn't think you guys would make it. I knew you would," she answered, leading them both inside.

"Shit," Casper muttered when he saw the two men walk in behind Katie.

"What a way to greet your guests, you animal," Sebastian mused as he took off his winter gear.

"I thought for sure you guys were gonna end up staying at your place so you could bang, if I'm being honest," Casper said with a bob of his shoulders. "I mean, you know, New Years Eve, fireworks and shit."

"Whoa, fancy," Katie said, her eyes on the bottle in Rafael's hand.

"Oh, yes, here. I brought this for us to toast to a new year," the prosecutor said, handing the bottle to Katie.

"Wow! Champagne," Katie replied with a grin. "Thank you, that's so nice. I'll go put it in the kitchen."

"Champagne, huh?" Casper chimed, nodding as the corners of his mouth turned down in appreciation. He looked up at Sebastian. "I like him."

Rafael chuckled as he, too, took off his winter coat, gloves and scarf.

"So what have you two lovebirds been doing?" Sebastian teased.

Casper rolled his eyes as Katie answered, "Oh just hanging around. By the way," she turned her gaze to Casper as she came back into the living room, "you owe me ten bucks."

"Yeah, yeah," Casper replied, reaching into his pocket and digging a ten dollar bill out of his wallet.

"He bet you guys would end up cancelling and staying at your place to bone," she explained to Rafael and Sebastian.

The pianist turned to look at the prosecutor. "See? What'd I tell you? Animal."

Rafael laughed softly before he looked back at Katie. "He means thank you for inviting us over."

"Aw, you're doing that thing where these two act like total idiots," she gestured to Sebastian and Casper, "but you and I are totally on the same page."

"We're standing right here," Casper said with furrowed brows.

Katoe paid him no mind. "Do you guys want some snacks? We've got some cheese I can cut up and crackers."

"Sure," Sebastian answered.

"Do you want some help?" Rafael asked.

Katie's eyes lit up. "I would love some help, thank you, Rafael."

Sebastian watched Katie and the ADA walk into the kitchen as he and Casper sat down on the couch, the latter reaching into a small cooler for a bottle of beer to hand off to Sebastian. The pianist couldn’t help but chuckle as he took the offering. “Something wrong with your fridge?”

“No, this is just easier, I don’t have to get up. So, this is getting pretty serious between you two, huh?” the scrawny man asked, leaning back against the cushions.

“I don’t know if I would say that just yet, but things are going really well,” Sebastian answered. “How about you and your girlfriend?” he asked with a smirk, remembering the conversation with Rafael on the way over to their apartment.

“Oh, I mean, same ole. She really liked the bathrobe, you were right,” Casper replied. “Think I’m gonna--wait a sec, did you call her my girlfriend? She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Right,” Sebastian mumbled, taking a sip of his beer. “So she liked the bathrobe?”

“Yeah.”

“I told you she would,” Sebastian said, grinning. “Hey, I’ve been thinking...I think I wanna take Raf to meet Edna. What do you think?”

“Five months in?”

“No, not right away, but I was thinking maybe for Valentine’s Day we could stop Uptown to see her and he could meet her then,” Sebastian replied.

“And you say it’s not getting serious.” Casper smirked, rolling his eyes and taking a sip from his beer. “Have you met anyone from his world yet?”

“Yeah, I met one of his coworkers one night while we were out.”

“Did you meet her there or did you just happen to run into her?” Casper asked.

“We just ran into her, but Raf still introduced me.”

“I don’t know, man,” Casper mumbled.

“What? He just happened to meet you guys down at the piano bar. That wasn’t planned.”

Casper tilted his head to one side. “That’s true.”

Katie and Rafael came back into the living room with a platter of cheese and crackers, laughing at one thing or another as they set the platter and small plates on the coffee table. For a moment, Sebastian could imagine that the four of them had been together for years and that this was their tradition every New Years. It was a nice thought, especially when accompanied by the image of him and Rafael going home together, falling asleep together.

“So how was the show last night, guys?” Katie asked as she sat down next to Casper, who instinctively put an arm around her shoulders.

“Oh God, it was amazing,” Rafael answered, looking to Sebastian as he too sat down.

“Yeah, Jefferson Mays knocked it out of the park, as usual. You guys should go see it if you get a chance to, it was so good,” the pianist agreed.

“Well, I wanna go see it, but you know Mr. I-Don’t-Watch-Theatre over here,” she answered, as she pointed to Casper with her thumb.

“I just don’t like the crowds,” Casper said, shoulders bobbing.

“This is a really small theatre, so it’s actually perfect for someone who prefers smaller crowds,” Rafael offered, leaning against Sebastian when the musician draped an arm over the back of the sofa behind him.

Casper seemed to consider it for a moment before he idly nodded. “Yeah, okay. Maybe we’ll go then.”

Katie looked pleasantly surprised. “We gotta keep you around Rafael. I never thought it would be that easy to convince him to go see a show.”

“Happy to help,” the ADA answered.

“Hey, let’s play a game!” Katie suggested, handing Rafael a beer from the cooler. “I got Cards Against Humanity from my grandma and I think we might have Jenga somewhere.”

“That sounds great,” Rafael chimed.

“I’ll go get them!” Katie replied, shooting up from her seat excitedly and disappearing down the hall.

For the next couple of hours, they played games while waiting for the time to tick closer to midnight, and Sebastian couldn’t shake the feeling of it all being so...normal. As if they’d been doing this for years with Casper and Katie. Every so often they would meet eyes and share a smile at one another and Sebastian couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so happy. He hoped it would last for the rest of their lives.

Eleven fifty-five came in no time at all it seemed, and Casper suggested they all go to the rooftop to watch the ball drop, just as he and the pianist had done every year. Opening the bottle of champagne that Rafael had brought, they poured four glasses out and began to make their way to the top of the building.

“I can’t believe you can actually see the ball from here,” Katie mused as Casper propped open the emergency exit that led to the roof.

“I mean, it’s not a perfect view, but you can see it as it reaches five seconds left,” Casper answered, leading them to the perfect spot for the best vantage point. Looking down at his watch, he started off the countdown. “Ten, nine, eight…”

“Thank you for inviting me,” Rafael mumbled into Sebastian’s ear before he planted a gentle kiss on the skin beneath the lobe.

“Thanks for coming,” Sebastian mumbled back with a warm smile.

“Three, two, one...HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

With his heart filled to brim with joy, Sebastian closed the space between them and pressed his lips against those of the ADA’s, keeping their foreheads pressed together when, after a few moments of bliss, their lip lock broke. From the corner of his eye, he could see a bright flash and turned to look at Katie, who was holding up her cellphone, pointed at the two of them.

"Sorry, you guys are just so cute together, I literally want to put you both in a frame and keep you always," Katie said.

"When would they pee?" Casper asked, earning a chuckle from Sebastian and Rafael.

“Katie, would you send that to me, please?” Rafael asked.

“Yeah, of course!” Katie answered.

Sebastian couldn’t have helped it if he wanted to, and he definitely didn’t want to stop himself from falling, long and hard for the ADA at that very moment. And he didn’t even care that it might’ve been too soon to feel that way.

#rafael barba #rafael barba x male #thelawyerandthepianobar #rabastian

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