Rosinante X Reader

This is one I wanted to do and had half finished for the longest time. I'll be working on other people's requests a little faster now, partially because I feel like I've hit a wall in some stories. I need to do a better job of figuring out more of the plot before writing them. Sometimes I get too caught up in the small scenes that I forget the big picture. And I have five or so requests piled up that need to be done anyway~

You could say you had bad luck when it came to love. Everytime you found a boyfriend things would go well for a short while and then you'd find them cheating on you at some point. You were sweet enough, that's why they kept asking you out. And you were good looking to boot, petite with eye catching.

But without a doubt, each one fell for another woman, occasionally more, and then they wouldn't have the guts or the want to end things with you before starting up with someone else. There'd been plenty of times when you and other women have all torn into past lovers for two timing. It was getting old though. You were tired of being treated like you weren't worth a real relationship.

Now you sat at a bar in town, getting ready to drown your misery in alcohol. Was it a good choice? No. Was it going to help you get over your problems? Also no. But it sounded better than crying your eyes out over men who weren't worth your time. Besides, alcohol wouldn't leave you. You could always count on it for a good time.

You sat at the counter, close to the bartender as you sipped on your drink. There was all night to get shit faced, you weren't in a rush.

A crash from the front of the bar jolted you out of your self pity induced reverie and you turned around to see what was going on, fully expecting a brawl.

To your surprise, it was a single man. An extremely tall one at that. He had fallen flat on his face right as he entered the building and was now getting back to his feet. He brushed himself off like nothing happened and walked his way up to the bar, sitting in the stool beside you.

A large black, feathered coat hung off his hunched shoulders and a strange red cap with hearts dangling off the sides kept his shaggy blonde hair under control. The strangest part of him was the makeup he wore on his face. Red lipstick that didn't stop at his lips, stretching over his cheeks instead, and some dark blue design under his right eye. It was interesting to say the least.

The man stayed silent as he flagged down the bartender and pointed to what he wanted on a small menu by his elbow. Once he got his drink, his gaze drifted in your direction and you quickly averted your eyes, taking a sip of your own beverage. You were used to being stared at by men, so it was easy to make it look casual. Not that you were interested in him, you just didn't want to be caught staring.

You could feel his eyes on you though. Without even looking you could tell his gaze was trailing up and down your form. Fighting the urge to smile, you finally looked at him with a straight face.

"Can I help you?" Nothing beat catching someone off guard and watching them backpedal.

But surprisingly, he didn't say anything. He stared back boldly with muddled red eyes as he put a cigarette between his lips and tried to light it. Emphasis on tried.

He somehow missed the tip of the cigarette and ended up catching his coat on fire instead. You never wondered how flammable a feathered coat could be, but you definitely had an answer now. It was fast and so much more than mildly worrying, especially since he didn't notice the mistake right away.

Your first instinct was to use your drink to help put the flames out, except said drink was alcohol and that would not be helpful. So you did the much smarter thing and leaned across the counter to snatch a clean rag the bartender had left and started stifling the fire. As you were doing that, the man and everyone else around had caught on to what was happening.

A few others roared with laughter at the absurdity of the situation while the man you were trying to put out was swatting at the flames with you. After a moment, the fire was extinguished, leaving the nose curling smell of singed feathers in the air.

"You should really pay better attention to what you're doing." You huffed, pushing your hair out of your face.

He glanced around the room, as if he was looking for something or someone before nodding sheepishly. You watched him successfully light his cigarette and tap the counter to get the bartender's attention once again. When he came around, the man made a writing motion and was handed a pad of paper and a pen.

You watched curiously as he scribbled something down in messy handwriting and then pushed the paper to you for you to read.

Thank you for the help.

Short, sweet, and to the point.

"No problem." You gave him a smile and offered you hand. "I'm (Y/n)."

He scribbled out his own name before taking your hand in his much larger one and giving it a shake.

Rosinante.

"Huh," You eyed the name he wrote out on the paper. "I like it."

My name?

"Yeah. It's different."

He took a drag from his cigarette and you noticed the slight color that dusted his cheeks. Cute.

You downed the rest of your drink and it was quickly replaced with another. The guys that worked here knew you well enough and could tell when you were here to drown your moods. Had your relationship troubles become that obvious?

Rosinante tapped a finger to the alcohol stained wood and you looked back at him. He then poked at the paper and you checked what he wrote.

Something troubling you?

You shook your head. "Just life."

You look too young to have life getting you down.

You chuckled and sipped at your glass. Rosinante did the same.

"I just have a lot of bad luck is all."

One of the local men caught wind of the conversation and bent over your shoulder to look at your blonde companion. "By that she means every time she gets a man she can't keep him from getting it on with every other woman he comes across."

You don't know how the guy even knew the entirety of the conversation without reading what Rosinante wrote but you weren't able to tell him off about it. The man ducked out before you could snap at him.

"Sorry." You said sheepishly. "It's a small town, everyone knows everyone and therefore everyone knows everyone elses business."

That's alright. Relationships can be hard.

"That's an understatement." You sighed. "It's no biggie, you live and you learn."

"Except you don't learn (Y/n)!" Someone said as they passed by.

"Fuck off!" You snapped over your shoulder.

Black feathers shook as Rosinante laughed, his whole form shaking from the force of it.

I gave up on having a partner some time back.

"I'm just about at that point." You muttered.

He gave you a kind smile. He wasn't trying to comfort you, you were both still strangers after all. But it was nice to have someone willing to listen, especially someone who seemed able to relate. Rosinante never delved into his own relationships, whether they existed or not, but you could still tell he knew exactly where you were coming from.

It was like he'd had similar shitty relationships. Ones with people coming and going, using him like you'd been used. Maybe with people who stayed and continued to use him. Yeah, you were betting that was it. He couldn't hide that past the clown makeup and smiles. It made for a poor mask.

But he made you feel more at home with your life than anyone else ever had. He'd had a rough go at life, much like you and that was somehow comforting. Nothing like sharing your misery with someone else.

Both of you drank your worries away until the bar was spinning and swaying for you. Some people didn't like being so drunk they were dizzy. You weren't one of those people. You liked the feeling of not having to be in control, even if it wasn't for a long period of time.

Eventually Rosinante pat your shoulder and you glanced at the paper covered in half the conversation and found a new sentence added, a question.

Do you want to get out of here?

An alcohol induced flush covered his cheeks and he stared at you through half lidded eyes with an obvious invitation.

Why not? You were both drunk and tired of all the annoying things going on in your lives. Nothing like a break for one night.

"Yeah. Let's go."

----

Somehow the two of you found your way back to your place. You'd stumbled along from the alcohol and he did the same, occasionally falling from his own clumsiness, though he refused to acknowledge that was the problem.

When you got inside, he wasted no time picking you up and pushing your back into a wall. You instinctively wrapped your legs around him to help support yourself as his lips crashed into yours. Everything about him was warm, hot almost. As his tongue slipped into your mouth you couldn't help but let out a whine.

Large, heated hands traveled under your shirt and massaged every inch of skin he could touch. At the same time, you tugged off his hat and pushed his feather coat off his shoulders. It was heavier than it looked and hit the floor with a muffled thump. It turned into both of you feverishly seeing who could undress the other the fastest. Next was your shirt, then his, followed by your bra.

Then he stopped, taking the time to kiss along your neck and down to your breasts, leaving a hot trail as he went. Makeup smudged along where he touched you with his lips, all the while he peeked up at you through shaggy blonde bangs. You cupped his face, encouraging him to come back up for a real kiss and he gladly obliged.

This would be your first real fling and funny enough, you were finding it to be much more enjoyable than any of your other relationships so far. It was quick and easy, no strings attached and nothing to complicate things. The feeling of an almost complete stranger's mouth against yours was thrilling. Feeling his muscles coil up with tension under your fingertips sent chills up your spine. The growing bulge pressing into you was filling you with excitement that past lovers struggled to elicit from you.

You were more than ready for him when he placed you back on your feet long enough to undo his pants and let you do the same. But instead of picking you back up again like you thought he would, he knelt in front of you and nudged your legs apart. His tongue flicked out far enough to wet his lips and he inched towards your womanhood, watching you with a sultry smile.

The second he started tasting you, you grabbed handfuls of his hair and gasped. You expected it to feel good but it still caught you off guard. He was delicate, slipping his tongue past your folds gently as he took his time exploring you. It was only a matter of time until your legs shook and you were panting and mewling for him. Your grip on his hair tightened the longer he went until you were unconsciously bucking your hips to meet him in hopes for more. But he pulled away before getting too far into it.

You let out a huff of irritation that ended up being cut off as he stood up and quickly lifted you, pressing your back into the wall once again. This time, you caught an eyeful of his member and were definitely impressed. He was a big man, it made sense he'd have a big package too. At least to you it did. He gave you a look, asking if you were still good and when you nodded, he lowered his head to nibble along your neck as he slowly pushed into you.

A breathy moan left you when he had completely filled you. You could feel him breathe in sharply against your throat and his fingers dig into your ass at the same time. After giving you a moment to make sure you could handle him, he started rocking into you. It was as gentle as his touch. You'd say loving even if you actually knew him better. Each movement was painstakingly slow and calculated. He pulled out until only his tip was inside you and rocked back into you until his hips were flush with yours.

The entire time, he was moving up your neck and to your jaw, letting out sighs and shaky breaths against your skin. It sent shivers up your spine and moans out your mouth. You felt like putty in his hands. He rearranged himself suddenly, jerking into you as he moved to support you with just one arm while the other found your breasts. He began kneading at one, going between holding as much flesh in his hand as he could at once and focusing on the nipple.

It was more than you could take. You climaxed around him, crying out as the pleasure overtook you. As you tightened up and writhed around him, he dove in for a kiss. His whole body shook with the need for release as he continued to tease your breasts and thrust into you a little more aggressively than before. His breathing turned into fast, small gasps as he came not long after you.

It took you both a moment to start relaxing but as soon as he was good, he got a firm hold of you and began looking for the bedroom you assumed. You were sure he was tired, you were too after all.

"Down the hall and to the left." You murmured, resting your chin on his shoulder. He could stay the night, you wouldn't mind.

----

And you didn't. It was nice having someone in your bed, if only for the sake of getting to cuddle up to another warm body. He didn't really fit your bed but he didn't seem to care all that much, letting his legs dangle over the edge the entire night. You don't know why, but when morning came around, you were a little disappointed to see him getting dressed. It made sense for him to leave, it was just a one night stand but you still hurt a bit watching him tug on his pants.

Scars you didn't notice before stretched along his spine and wrapped around his ribs. You bet there was even more in the front that you had yet to see. It was funny that you never felt them when he made love to you. It's not like they were too small to feel, the tiniest ones all had formed into gnarly bumps and divots and the bigger ones were looked worse.

"That's a lot of scars." You noted sleepily, the sudden noise making him jump. "You must've gone through a lot."

He faced the bed and the slight frown he wore told you he was still dealing with whatever had given him all those marks. Rosinante was ill at ease as he shuffled around, snatching up the shirt he brought in the room last night before getting in bed with you. As soon as it was over his head, you knew it was time for him to go.

"I know we just met and I probably won't ever see you again, so I doubt this will mean much to you. But whatever you're dealing with, you should leave it behind. You're only going to keep getting hurt if you go back to it all the time."

You were speaking from experience but on a much less physically painful level. No matter what happened with ex's, you never stopped hoping one of them might love you and you kept trying to find the one that would. Rosinante and you were birds of a feather as far as you knew. Two people who just couldn't stop getting themselves hurt.

He didn't try to find something to write on and answer you with. Instead, he settled for giving you a sad smile as he leaned over the bed and gave you one last kiss. It was strange, but not unwelcome. Most men would just leave without a second thought after getting what they wanted. All you could think was maybe he was trying to delay something else.

"It was nice meeting you Rosinante." You settled back under the sheets as he gave you a wave goodbye and headed for the door. "I think I'd like to see you again someday."