#This post is another reaction to those travel influencers pretending that everyone can afford to just pack their bags and travel for a mont

[salvadorbonaparte]

I've been to a fair amount of countries in my life already but if you look at my list of travels it's like (low budget camping trips) (ski trips that my father and his girlfriend paid for) (ex in-laws had house there) (big gap due to poverty) (holiday we saved for for years and then immediately got food poisoning because the hotel was crap) (gap) (exchange trip mostly financed by government) (couple of holidays once we stopped being super poor) (moved abroad) (one luxury trip we splurged on) (travelled with friends in the off season staying at a hostel) (moved abroad again) (moved abroad again) (university field trip) (got really lucky) (got paid to travel there) (saved some money for a birthday trip) (friend invited me) (friend invited my mum)

[likesomekindofcheese]

Hide Your Love Away (Paul McCartney x fem! Royal! reader Oneshot)

From an anon request:  can you write Paul x reader oneshot or something where she’s going to have an arranged marriage the following day, which is forced by her family. but she doesn’t want it since she’s secretly dating Paul. So they go on their last date, pretending it’s their honeymoon just for one day since they know they have to be separated after that🥺(sry I’m a sucker for sad/angst fic with lil fluff)

Word Count: Less than 2K

Warnings: swearing, angst with fluff, mentions of weddings and sex. Lack of editing,

A/N: I hope you enjoy it! In order for the premise to work, I decided to make you a member of the noble class who has to marry into royalty  (I got inspired some by The Crown on Netflix, whoops) when you really love Paul. Much love to my angels @joeneslee​ @bens-jawline​ and @rhapsodyrecs​ for helping me when writers block stuck for this one!

 “I just met him, how can I marry him?” you asked with tears blinking in your eyes.

Sighing, you could tell the diadem on your mothers head was beginning to droop. Your father began cutting his meat with more fury. It made the metals on his suit follow in a clink, clink, clink.

“Because this marriage is important to us- to your whole family!” he said.

“But he…I…how do you know it will work?” you question. The diamonds on your necklace feel like an icy grip.

“That doesn’t matter, you will make it work. You always have. It’s the price you pay for your title. It’s going to secure everything. The Prince of Cardonia already agreed to it,” your mother said.

“I…”

“Y/N, you’re a duchess. You do understand the consequences if you don’t do this…money will fall, we’ll lose protection…our house, everything.”

Squeezing your hands together, you began to blink away tears.

“And think of how the alliance will help us, politically. Do you want our people to suffer?” your father pointed out.

You agreed to the match. In a way, you could be a good leader still. Carry out orders. Make changes. Protect people. But it was useless now.

In your room, you began dialing madly for his number. Pacing, the ring on the phone seemed to last forever. Who knew a chance encounter at a party for music led to you both. Then all these phone calls. The meetings. Then meetings led to more talk. And soon your mouths stopped talking and started kissing.

“Y/N…I’m speechless…and you…you can’t say no…” Paul wonders. Your throat feels dry.

“I don’t have a choice! I…I didn’t choose this, they just…announced it,” you mourned.

Those calls are made in plenty the following weeks. You get fitted for the wedding gown a month later. It’s a wide gown decked in lace covering your neck and shoulders with a long train that leaves lace down like a cape. Everyone says you look beautiful, but you don’t feel like it. You are constantly asked for details about the wedding. You gave boring answers. You don’t want to make it too fussy, but at least pretty. But it’s soulless, you feel like.

The day comes sooner, so Paul suggests something…a trip.

You don’t know how, but you managed to get away. You had a few trusted friends who covered for you

The prince of Cordonia isn’t like Paul at all. He is stiff and dull. Not abusive, you don’t think, but that could change.

Paul is super ambitious and works to get the secret trip right.

Right as you get on the plane, making sure it is private and paying guards and the pilot extra, you look at Paul.

“We could…pretend…”

“Pretend what?”

“Pretend we’re married. That we’re going to be at our honeymoon…I don’t know if we’ll get a chance to later…”

Smiling, you begin to drum your fingers on the tan plush arm of your seat.

“How in god’s name did a damn Beatle escape from the press?” you asked. The plane whirred as it soared over the air.

Paul sighs, taking a sip of water from a plastic cup. 

“A lot of help, that’s what. Didn’t you get your friends in? Well, I got friends too,” he answered with a wink that always flipped your stomach.

“Where are you even going?”

He smiled.

“Ibiza, Spain!”

“Spain! I’ve never been to Spain!” you cried. Running up, you give him a girlish hug and kiss his cheek.

The jet plane landed and you both made your way to a hotel. Paul donned fake facial hair and as soon as you were led to your suite, he ripped it off. Though it looked red and tears stung his eyes.

“Oo-owww!”

You began to laugh hard at his reaction before tossing yourself on the feathery bed. That first night you both indulged in a large dinner while watching the sun go down and after much evening walking, settled into your bed for the first sleep after traveling.

When you both woke up, you saw his face first. Then your eyes flitted open. The sunshine of the Spanish morning poured in from over his head. He looked even more angelic.

“Hello husband!”

“Hello Wifey!” he said, kissing your forehead. 

Both of you cuddle up against the cold air from the AC before ordering a breakfast and spending time in your pajamas…as well as out of them. Smiling and taking in each other. Chatting about the habits of his other band members and laughing at them like normal.

They explored old towns. Spanish architecture, orange and tall, surrounded them. You bought lunch at little local restaurants, usually saving room for cold gelato served in cones dusted with cinnamon. It was touristy. It was cliche. It was perfect.

Both of you go through markets all afternoon when it’s too hot to do anything else. Thanking the heavens for shade and cheering at the sight of a working fan. One market had a tendency to be overpriced. Not that neither of you couldn’t afford it. 

Glancing over there was a young woman eyeing a necklace. Maybe a local. Her eyes were bright as she admired how the gems shone in the light and how they flattered her skin. But when she glanced at the price tag, she frowned.

Nudging, you murmur “I’ll be over there…”

You walk up to the young woman and smile.

“Hello, do you like that necklace?” you greet.

She blinks in confusion and sighs.

“Yes, I do” she says in a voice as sweet as honey. “It’s just…expensive, is all. I’ll look for another one.”

From the pocket of your pants you pull out several dollar bills and hand them to her. She is frozen looking at the numbers. It’s enough to buy at least five necklaces here.

“Not anymore…”

“Why are you doing this?” she asks.

“Let’s say…I have more than enough. Least I can do.” You answer.

Walking back, you see Paul’s eyes grow wide and then he smiles. He wraps a hand around yours as you walk out. Glancing back, you can see the girl is slack jawed. Then she went and bought the becklace with a smile as big as her face.

As soon as he got home, with only a few packages of things, Paul flung himself on the bed.

“Ooof! I’m bloody exhausted!”

You lean over, smiling. His face has gotten a little red from the sun. Your hands creep over to his shoulders.

“Let me massage you sweetheart…I don’t want my… my husband to be in pain,” you insisted.

Paul grinned larger at the use of the word.

For the rest of the night, you went over piles of photographs Paul managed to take. His love of the camera made him keep it as close as if it was his baby. You both managed to find local places and take pictures. The cheesiest pictures one could manage. Smiling faces, wide arms, and mountains and beaches and buildings too beautiful to be real.

“I’d like to keep a few…” you say.

Paul looks up at you.

“Is that…is that possible, Y/N? They look through your things, y’know…” he warned.

You shrugged, looking at one picture you took of Paul smiling, squinting into the sunlight with a castle from long ago far behind him, poking out of the green hill. Then another one where you managed to travel out and visit another real palace with elaborate floors outside and pigeons flying by.

“I can manage. I have…have places in my home only I can enter. Royalty, y’know…”

Looking back, only your closest friends were in on this. Friends you knew would not tattle. Friends who could influence any nosy servants.

He leaned over on the bed, in a white shirt and long pajama pants. Placing a hand, he traced a strand of hair.

“You might be their duchess, but you’re me girl. Always.”

The next morning, both of you were napping, naked, and smiling in post-coital bliss. Unaware that it was already noon. And there was a newspaper with your brunch.

As you groaned, opening your eyes, you heard Paul nearly spit out his tea from the tray.

“Oof, too hot for you?” you teased.

He looked at you and turned the page.

There was a small, minor article. It shouldn’t have caused much attention. But it was about your parents. It mentioned them addressing rumors that you were running away with another man and may have been spotted in Spain- or someone who looked like you. They couldn’t tell who the man was, but it was not your betrothed.

“Oh shit.”

You toss the paper onto the sheets, looking at Paul with his face, white as the sheets.

“We’ll…we’ll just have to be careful…” you suggest. Leaning forward, you cup his face and he nods.

You both had to be too careful. You went to beach. The sun was bright and you tasted the salt in the wind, but you had to look around you. Everytime there was a stranger, you felt their eyes on you. Both of you picked a time when there would be less people, but it felt there were now invisible cameras somewhere.

Both of you waded in the water and laid around in a towel underneath an umbrella for shade. But even in the most relaxing moments, you couldn’t help but worry if eyes were staring. Paul opened a picnic basket and handed you a bowl of strawberries, but you wondered if even a nice snack would somehow make it’s way to tabloids.

The next few days, you were more careful. Going to less crowded places. On your penultimate day, you ignored the paper. Paul was still asleep. You glanced for any news. Once you saw a photo of your parents worried faces. “We are concerned for our daughter…”

You tossed it into the trash bin. You would deal with it later. You wanted to enjoy each minute while you had it.

You kept trying to sneak into sites with less people, odder hours. If not, you were at each other like rabbits in your hotel room. Savoring intimacy and feeling one while you still could, or lazing about in your pajamas-ordering food and watching the sea. Talking about everything and nothing.

Paul opened his eyes, lashes fluttering. You couldn’t’ help but smile at him. His lashes were long, curved naturally without any mascara. How could one man be so beautiful?

“What…what is it?”

“Nothing hubby…” you said quietly, kissing his forehead. “Let’s just…let’s just enjoy the day.”

Spain had the loveliest sunsets. You watched from your hotel and then walked at night. The stars were out and the ocean was calming. Both of you felt a breeze. Paul handed you his jacket. Even in the dark, you could make out quiet sniffling. Clutching his hand, you turned to the ocean to look up at it’s infinity underneath a night sky. You never let his hand go the rest of that night. You wanted this pretense to last long as it could until you could no more, when the plane landed and you were back home at the palace with photos of Spain snuck into the bottom of your suitcases. 

 Besides, there was a wedding next week. 

Taglist: @stardust-killer-queen​ @queenlover05​