#she's not any nicer in my story
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avalonia320 · 9 months ago
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Stories I'll (probably) Never Finish #2
I'm going through my old writing and posting scenes that I like from stories I'll probably never work on again.
Summary: Cersei Lannister can't afford the distraction of a mysterious stranger, even one that saved her life. She seeks help to break a bond she never asked for.
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Cersei studied the crone before her, looking dispassionately at the bowl under her wrist, and the wound dripping red into it. The sorceress had said she needed to study Cersei’s blood, get a feel for the magic that now lived in it, and Cersei, despite Qyburn’s strenuous objections, found no reason to disbelieve her. 
“Can you do it?” she finally demanded, impatient with the long silences and the ancient woman’s mumbling underneath her breath.
The woman looked up.  Slowly, her lips widened into a smirk, made more grotesque by the dot of Cersei’s blood that lingered on the corner of her lips.
“I can do it. But the cost will be high.” 
Cersei waved a dismissive hand. “Name your price.”
“It is not that simple,” the crone inclined her head. “I’ll certainly take your coin, and enough to keep me in comfort for the rest of my days. But that is not enough. This blood bond was created through sacrifice. It will take an even bigger one to break it.
“It will take someone you love.”
“There is no one,” Cersei stared bleakly into the woman’s face.  “My children are gone. My brother has betrayed me. There is no one I love,” and as she spoke the words, she felt the world change, heard the lie she has spoken without realizing the lie, saw her face. Asteria.
“Ah,” the crone smiled. “You love her. The one you’re bonded with. The one you seek to betray.”
“What does it matter?” Cersei stared at her. “It changes nothing. I want the bond broken. And once it is,” she didn’t allow herself to hesitate. “She dies. Whether I love her is completely irrelevant.*”
“Oh, it’s not her death that will be the sacrifice,” the sorceress circled Cersei, pursing her lips thoughtfully. “It’s her love for you. You live for that. Deep down, in that cold, dead heart of yours, it’s your one comfort. That you are still loved. Not just feared. Not just desired. Truly loved. You think you’ll hold that to you once she’s gone, that it will be frozen in time and still forever true, that you are loved,” she shook her head.  “That is what you must give up.”
Cersei parted her lips but the crone was still speaking. “It’s you who must wield the knife. She must see your betrayal, she has to look in your eyes and know that you crossed her. And in that second, you have to watch her love turn to hate before you strike. That is the sacrifice that will break the bond. She chose you. Let her unchoose you.”
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ramblebrambleamble · 2 years ago
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It usually doesn't take much to shoo him off; he's still afraid of her after all these years and her sister isn't here to hide behind.
She doesn't know why he bothers coming. They've never had anything in common and her hospitality is poor. But he comes, like clockwork, every week and sits across the table from her fidgeting with his mug of oversteeped tea and looking at anything but her.
Except if she looks away, and then, his eyes burn. They're pretty, amber-fire-gold. Sometimes brown. Pity about the face, though that's her fault. Magic blowback when they were six. He had avoided her ever since, and hidden behind her sister when he couldn't.
And then her sister was gone.
"It's time for you to get going, don't you think?" The silken tone is practiced, for just these sort of occasions. It's not like he's ever going to actually drink the tea. He probably thinks that it's poisoned.
Perhaps she should poison it, just to make a point.
He's not moving. In fact he's stiff in a stubborn sort of way, like he thinks he's going to stay. She'll soon fix that.
"I said-" she lights her palm aflame "- it's time for you to go."
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overworked-bookworm · 1 year ago
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#my therapist told me to be friends with ONLY people who actually like me#and referenced my friends from HS I reconnected with and then had it blow up#and we traced it alllllll back to my complex trauma from my father and how I feel like I have to earn care#which was NOT a fun conversation#but had the byproduct of me realizing the emotion I’ve felt about Kit and Hailey and the other two is just PURE resentment#like how dare they treat me like that#how dare they handle me with anything other than care and affection and try to call themselves my friend#resentment is a whole lot easier for me to work with than any other emotion#everything else makes me feel like it’s my fault#but even though resentment is a poison it’s an easier one to swallow than self-blame#personal#anyway sometimes my Scorpio energy really comes through and every day I’m a little less clinically delusional#I’ve been talking to this guy who flirts in a very similar way that Kit did with me and it’s a lot easier for me to navigate when I’m not…#…fucking psychotic and hearing voices. imagine that.#also he’s nicer to me than Kit was sooooo he can go to hell#also I saw a tarot reader and I was asking about general life advice and she went ‘he’s coming back’ and I went ‘what’#and she lifted up the emperor [which was Kit’s card] and said ‘whoever he was? he’s coming back’ and I SWEAR TO GOD if I hear from him again#Cole had the decency to disappear after he broke up with his girlfriend he ditched me for#Kit is like the mold that keeps getting worse the deeper you go#anyway his mom watches all of my stories which I do think is very funny#should I unfriend the entire family and not think about this anymore? yeah probs#but my therapist said not to unfriend anyone and just sort it out#I have 20 minutes every day to stew and the time is up now friends
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charliemwrites · 4 months ago
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Part 5 of Mister(s) Steal Your Girl
Long awaited, but no Johnny smut just yet. Soon, I promise. (And Kyle will be back. It's been so long since he's gotten to smooch our dear reader.)
Also! A little reminder than you can check the queue to see what I plan to post for next. I try to update it often as the worms wiggle. Next I plan to do the final chapter of Greater Bad. (Unless I get my not-so-secret, no-longer-a-surprise oneshot out first)
Lastly! Please note that I wrote the "posts" from his perspective. So inconsistencies with the actual story and any grammar/spelling errors were purposeful or for "authenticity".
Content: Brandon.
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r/CakeEater _OnBrand_ I asked my fiancé for an open relationship before marriage. It worked. A while ago I posted on r/adultery about the affairs (yes, multiple) I was having behind my then-gf’s back. We’d already been dating for ~4 years and I was seeing one of my coworkers (my “work wife”) regularly and one of her coworkers on and off. People on my other post were critical and called me all sorts of things like selfish and pig. I know it’s not traditional, but I genuinely don’t think I could ever be satisfied by one woman. My work wife (Rachel) and fiance’s coworker (Lucy) provide things my fiancé just can’t but I still love my fiancé. She’s the woman I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. When I posted on r/adultery I was trying to figure out how to propose without her finding out. I knew she’d expect me to help with stuff and possibly want to look at my phone more often. It would have been harder to sneak off to meet up with Lucy or Rachel with wedding planning and I was sick of being stressed she would find out. Some nicer people on the post suggested I ask for an open relationship. I took their advice and sat her down to sell the idea. It’s a good thing I’m so good at sales (top 3% in my company for 5 years in a row) because she agreed. Yes, actually agreed. At first she got kind of pale and her eyes got really big and blank. I thought for sure she was about to start crying and run off. Maybe even kick me out. She doesn’t really get angry but she gets upset and it freaks me out. After I explained everything about how good it would be for us though, she agreed. This is my official unlimited hallpass. I’ve been seeing Rachel on weekends and Lucy once or twice during the week for drinks. Tonight I’m going to sign up for every dating site I can. Tinder, Bumble, Hinge. If anyone has other suggestions, I’ll check those out too. Fiance has been kind of off but I think it’s just an adjustment period. Sometimes I can tell she’s been crying but she hasn’t come to me about it so she’s probably just being emotional about all the changes. At least she’s got our house to focus on while she gets used to things. I feel a little bad about running out every night but she’s just so mopey and sad all the time and it’s not enjoyable to be around. I know she probably feels like I’m abandoning her a little but once she starts getting back to normal I’ll spend time with her again. You really can have your cake (all the cakes heh) and eat them too. Edit: no, I never told her that I already had Lucy and Rachel and I’m not going to. What good would it do? She’s already agreed to an open relationship and telling her that I didn’t have permission first would just hurt her for no reason.
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Kyle’s been gone for two (long, lonely) weeks when he finally gets a chance to call. So far, he’s only been able to send scattered texts at odd hours. Always something sweet – telling you he’s alright, or that he’s thinking of you. Sometimes you even catch him for a brief exchange before he apologizes and “goes dark” again.
Not that you begrudge it. This is part and parcel of dating him and you knew that going in. You’re not complaining when he’s putting his life on the line so that the public can live in blissful peace.
That doesn’t stop you from missing him though. His hugs, his smile. Getting his voice - even roughened by distance - is a nice compromise though.
“How have you been holding up, chickadee?” he asks after the initial reassurance that he’s whole and hale. 
“Easier this time!” you answer proudly. “I know what to expect with you gone and Johnny’s good company.”
“Yeah?” he asks, sounding pleased.
You can just imagine him now, leaning his hip against the nearest surface, arms crossed over his broad chest. He tends to duck his head when he smiles, and you unintentionally grin to yourself, thinking of him hiding into his phone. God, you miss him. 
“Mhmm! We found a board game bar that you’re going to love. Oh, and we’re going to the Hay Festival this weekend.”
He hums. “I’m sorry I can’t be there to take you, luv, but I knew Johnny would be good to you.”
More than good to you, really. There’s not been a day he doesn’t call to check up on you - if he doesn’t see you in person, that is. Dinner, movies, coffee. He’s somehow both a gentleman and an incorrigible flirt, but only with you. He’s nothing more than polite to anyone else, keeping his focus on you and whatever the two of you are doing.
You don’t know what to do with the undivided attention. If you didn’t know better…
“You two are getting close,” Kyle observes.
“I think so,” you admit, then hesitate. “Is… that okay?”
“‘Course, luv. I’m glad.”
You blink. “You are?”
“He’s my best mate and you’re my best girl.”
An odd pang of anxiety pierces your chest. Johnny calls you that too. His “best girl.” You love hearing it - but maybe you shouldn’t?
“It… doesn’t bother you? That we’re spending so much time together.”
He snorts softly, but it’s not derisive. It’s a noise he makes whenever he thinks you’re being silly, but his voice comes out soft and warm. Not an ounce of condescension.
“No, baby, I’m not fussed. You spend your time with whoever you want, however you want. Yeah?”
Your chest floods with warmth. “Okay.”
“There’s a love. I’ve got a brief, so I have to go. I’ll call soon as I can.”
“Be safe, Ky.”
“Do my best. Give Soap a smooch for us, aye?”
You blink as he hangs up. That’s a new one.
You ponder over it while packing on Thursday night. Was it just a joke? A tease at the little crush you’ve developed for Johnny?
Because it is a crush, you know it is. It’s impossible not to be attracted to him. Not with that smile, that laugh, the goofy humor and sweet mannerisms. He still sends you flowers every few weeks - just as the previous ones are about to die. It’s so thoughtful; you’ve started feeling a bit warm every time you look at them.
But you feel greedy, being even remotely interested in anyone else. You have Kyle and Brandon (even if you two are going through a… patch) and that should be enough for you. Shouldn’t it? You’ve never been with more than one person at a time before; it took you weeks to shake the compulsory guilt when you first met Kyle. It feels almost unforgivably audacious to want Johnny too, especially since he’s Kyle’s best mate.
Still… Kyle’s not a jealous or passive-aggressive guy. You’ve been with him long enough now that you know he’d just tell you outright if he was unhappy about something. And he’s been with you long enough that he can surely tell you’re more than a bit fond of Johnny.
Maybe that’s why he made the joke about “smooching” him.
Regardless, you want to talk to him about it. Things always make sense when you think out loud to him. His levelheaded and practical approach to difficult topics always straightens your panic spirals out into neat lines.
Plus, it’s not as comforting to hold your own hand. (God, when is he getting back?)
“Where are you going?”
You blink up at Brandon, folded pajamas in hand.
“The Hay Festival,” you answer.
Speaking of - you slip past him into the bathroom. He doesn’t follow, rooted to the spot spinning his phone around in his hands.
“Alone?”
You snort. “Of course not, I’m going with a friend.”
The allergy pills are at the bottom of the medicine basket beneath the sink. You really need to organize it the next time Johnny’s too busy to hang out. There’s no way you need three bottles of paracetamol. 
“I need that suitcase.”
You toss the bottle in and pivot for the dresser. “What for?”
He shifts, eyes sliding away. “An… overnight.”
Ah. That’s what he’s calling it now?
You snatch a few (too many) pairs of underwear from the dresser.
“Just bring them here,” you say over your shoulder.
There’s a long, tense beat of silence but you’re too busy rummaging for socks to break it first. Will it be too warm for thigh-highs? Eh, you’ll go with the sheer ones; the little lace roses match one of your dresses anyway.
“Bring who here?” Brandon asks slowly.
When you turn, he looks paler than usual. You shrug, trying to project casual comfort.
This is a totally normal and reasonable conversation to have. Just a couple in an open relationship, discussing a stranger coming to the house for a shag. Nothing to make a fuss over.
“Whoever you need the suitcase for? I know you’ve had people over before anyway, and I’ll be gone all weekend.”
He stutters, color returning to his face in bright pink blooms. “Why do you think I’ve had people over before?”
You arch an eyebrow. “I do the laundry, remember? And there was lipstick on one of the wine glasses.”
That had sent you into a tizzy at the time, disgusted that some stranger was in your bed, with your fiancé. You washed the sheets twice on the hottest setting and tossed in a bit of bleach for good measure. Hadn’t been able to look at him the whole week - not that he was there much to not look at.
Now, though, you seem to have adjusted to the idea, even if you’re still not thrilled. Brandon can have his… whoever over, and you’ll goof around with Johnny in Wales.
“Just toss the bedding in the wash afterwards,” you add.
“I thought you do the laundry,” he sniffs.
“I’m not traveling all day just to do chores when I get home,” you answer. He does a double take like you’ve started speaking a new language. “You’ll be here all weekend, I’m sure you’ll have time.”
He opens his mouth, and you can tell already that he’s about to argue - though you don’t really know what about. It’s not like he can’t do laundry or dishes, after all. He lived alone before you moved in together.
Thankfully, his phone distracts him before he can form the words. He spins away to tap at the screen and shuffles out of the room, shoulders till tense. You go back to packing and teasing Johnny about the amount of hair gel he’ll bring.
Friday afternoon can’t come fast enough. Even though you’ve taken a half day from work, the few hours seem to drag. You’re practically daydreaming about the food and drinks, music and activities. There’s a baker’s dozen art stalls you want to check out as well, and a gift to pick out for Kyle…
“Hope yer thinkin’ o’ me when ye make tha’ face.”
Your head snaps around so fast, you nearly give yourself whiplash. Johnny grins down at you in all his casually handsome glory – ripped jeans, green tee, and brown boots. Angels are singing somewhere, you think. Or maybe that’s just your nosy coworkers ogling from their own cubicles.
The reality of him sinks in a moment later and you leap up from your cushy chair – and right into his arms. He’s like a furnace compared to the cool, conditioned air of your office, a welcome source of warmth for your chilly fingers.
“What are you doing here?” you giggle. “Who let a rowdy guy like you in?”
He smells like bergamot and pine. It takes active thought to resist pressing your face into the crook of his neck. It looks cozy there.
As always, he squeezes you a bit tighter just before letting go.
“Hey now, Marcy’s a discerning lady. She knows a fine gentleman when she sees one.”
You snort, belied by the smile curling your lips. “She may need new glass then.”
“Och, don’t go talkin’ poor about my second-best gal now.”
“Is it that easy to get in your good graces?” you scoff, glancing at the time on your computer. It’s later than you expected; no wonder he came up to retrieve you. You spent so long daydreaming that you’ve lost track of time.
“Aw don’ be green, dove, you’re still my number one. Send ye flowers ‘n all.”
You roll your eyes at him. “Yeah, and now I’m wondering just how special that is.”
He stands close, proclaiming his case for how obviously special you are while you shut everything down for the weekend. You’re only half listening to the bit, admittedly. Mostly just basking in your excitement for the mini road trip and the weekend to come. You have no doubt that it’s going to be fun, even if it would be better with Kyle along too.
“Where are you headed off to?” Lucy asks.
“Hay Festival,” you answer shortly.
You’ve never been a big fan of Lucy, but lately she’s been insufferable. Talking over you during meetings, leaving you out of emails, throwing away papers at the printer. (Okay, you haven’t seen her do that last one, but you know.) Worst of all, she can help but make backhanded comments about every flower delivery.
“You’re not taking Brandon?” she simpers. “Something wrong?”
“He’s hanging out with a friend this weekend too,” you correct, “and he doesn’t like hay.”
“Shame that,” Johnny adds, sounding like it’s not a shame at all.
You haven’t told him much about Brandon – but you’re sure that Kyle has. From the face Johnny makes the rare times your fiancé comes up in conversation, he doesn’t think much of Brandon.
“Have fun you two!” your manager, Selene, calls.
You wave and shoot Lucy one last, unimpressed glance before stepping onto the elevator with Johnny.
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r/CakeEater _OnBrand_ My fiancé is going on a weekend getaway with another man. I’ve posted in r/adultery and r/cakeeater before. I’m not looking for judgement or insults here. I really just want advice.
A little context: my fiancé and I are in an open relationship and it’s been like this for a few months now. I originally asked her to ope the relationship and for a while she was weird about it but lately she’s been getting sbetter. I thought she was finally getting used to me going out with other women and things were getting back to normal.
A few weeks ago, I noticed she was on her phone more. Like, all the time. Even at dinner when she used to be really picky about phones at the table. One day I came home from work and she was talking on the phone to someone. Giggling and laughing. When I turned the corner she was kind of blushing too. It kind of bothered me but I figured she was talking to a friend and just hot from cooking or something.
Lucy texted me pissed off one day, asking why I was sending my fiancé flowers but not her. I told her I hadn’t sent any flowers. I think they’re way too expensive for how long they realistically last and that they take up a lot of unnecessary space. But I thought it was weird that someone was sending my fiancé flowers and got kind of uncomfortable. That’s a pretty romantic gesture and her family isn’t the type to randomly send flowers either.
I tried taking her out on a date but she was all mopey again and turned her phone to ‘do not disturb’ so I wouldn’t even see if she was texting someone. We don’t have much to talk about now. I love her but she’s not a good storyteller or into very interesting things. All her ‘funny stories’ are just mundane things that happen during the day. We’ve run out of interesting topics about because we’ve been together so long. (That’s why I like having more than one partner.)
Yesterday she randomly started packing for a trip. I don’t even think she was planning to tell me until I asked her. She was packing a bunch of cute clothes too. Like dresses and tights and things like that. Stuff she only used to wear on our dates. I asked who she was going with and she just said ‘a friend’ which is weird because she would usually say the name of someone even if I don’t remember who they are.
Well today Lucy sent me a picture of my fiancé leaving her job with some guy. I couldn’t see his face because he was turned away, but I could see the side of my fiancé’s face and she was smiling at him. I got this awful sinking feeling in my chest like it was hard to breathe. It took me a few minutes to process that she’s going away for a weekend with a complete stranger.
Doesn’t she know how dangerous that is? Where did she even meet this guy? They’ll be gone all weekend so are they sharing a room? A bed? I nearly threw up thinking all these things as I called her.
I asked her to cancel her plans and come home. She seemed confused and reminded me that her plans were with someone else and it would be rude to ditch last minute. I told her I wanted to spend the weekend with her and that I’d been missing her. She seemed surprised and said that she’d see me on Sunday night, but she was looking forward to the festival with her ‘friend’ and wanted to go. As a last ditch effort I asked if her friend was more important than me, nearly begging at that point. She must have heard the desperation in my voice, but she just told me that she was already on the road and it was too late.
My fiancé doesn’t like lying but it’s hard to believe this guy was just a friend. Even if she sees him as a friend I know how men think and I doubt he sees her the same way.
She said some other weird stuff before she left about having someone over while she was gone. I don’t get it. How could she just casually invite someone else into our house like that? Has she had other people over? Is she dating now?
I’m not sure what to do. I don’t like that she put this trip over me. Should I talk to her about how bad this makes me feel? Should I call again and tell her to come home more forcefully? Am I blowing all of this out of proportion?
Edit: she doesn’t know that I’ve been seeing Lucy. I haven’t told my fiancé about any of the women I’ve been seeing. (mostly just Lucy and Rachel. I’ve done a lot of texting through apps and gone on a bunch of first place, but most women don’t put out right away and I usually can’t be bothered to get to know them better). Even then, I wouldn’t tell her about lucy. They don’t get along and never have. It would cause a lot of unnecessary drama.
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pathologicalreid · 4 months ago
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Hello, love your writing, can i request a oneshot for spencer Reid x wife!reader with the plot of the movie taken where she goes on a business trip or something and she gets taken and the team have to work against the clock to get her back. Had this idea for so long and thought you would be perfect to write it. Perfectly fine if you dont but im craving this story.
leave a message after the beep | S.R.
When you go missing under suspicious circumstances on a business trip, the BAU goes to Texas - and ends up in the middle of something bigger than anticipated.
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: kidnapping, blood, guns, reader almost kills someone, hospitals, the securities and exchange commission, typical cm violence, texas, takes place maybe circa season 7 word count: 4.03k a/n: okay anon so like yes i can write this but also i've never seen the movie taken so really i took your request and made it my own! i hope you like it either way!
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Tuesday, 2:17 p.m.
“Hey, Spence, it’s me. Shame I got your voicemail, but I just landed at Dallas Fort Worth and I’m waiting for my ride to take me to meet the regional officers. Not sure if you’re traveling, but uh, call me when you get this, I guess. Or when you can. Hopefully, this trip goes better than I think it’s going to… oh, I think my ride is here.”
Tuesday, 6:42 p.m.
“Hey babe, so, the first meeting went fine, they don’t seem very receptive, but people generally aren’t when I’m sent in to change their methods. Wish you’d pick up your phone. Anyway, I’m on my way to the hotel now, I’ll probably try you again before I go to bed. I know my updates are probably riveting.”
Tuesday, 8:09 p.m.
“Well, I’ve definitely stayed in nicer hotels than this one, but I guess I can’t complain about being put up for free. I’m probably just biased because the a/c unit is busted – oh, my room number is 316, I know you like to have it. I opened the windows to let air in but it’s so dry here that I’m not sure it’s helping any. I’ll shut them before I go to sleep, so don’t worry about that. Call me back, I miss you, don’t worry about waking me up. I think that’s all I’ve got, goodnight, I love you!”
There was a collective sigh in the roundtable room, five agents around the room all looked nervously at each other. No one wanted to be the first person to speak. No one wanted to be the first to propose a theory. “Where’s Spencer?” Emily asked, looking through the voicemail transcripts that were splayed out in front of her.
“In Hotch’s office, they’re talking,” Rossi said, eyeing the photo of you that was being projected up on the screen. Most of the time, Penelope just used driver’s license or passport photos in files, but for you, she had chosen a photo from the last BAU O’Keefe’s outing. Your skin was flushed and there was an odd shadow being cast on your face, but your smile was unmistakable.
The official files would have your driver’s license photo, but that picture was for the BAU. Seemingly unable to peel her eyes off of the screen, JJ asked the question that everyone was sitting on, “We’re on this case, right?”
It felt ridiculous, one of their own had gone missing in the middle of the night and they weren’t even sure if they had the jurisdiction to look into it. When no one answered, Morgan looked around the room, “The brass isn’t seriously going to try to tell us not to investigate.”
“No, they’re not,” Hotch said, suit jacket unbuttoned and fluttering behind him as he walked into the roundtable room with purpose. “We’ll debrief more on the plane, JJ and Garcia will stay here, the rest of us are headed to Dallas,” he instructed, nodding at everyone before turning around and walking out the door, the rest of the team following like ducks in a row.
On the jet, the traveling members of the team watched as Rossi held a cup of coffee out for Spencer to take, but the team's youngest member took a moment to even recognize that it was there, “Oh,” he mumbled, “thank you.” Blinking a haze from his eyes, he took the cup in his shaky hands.
A familiar concern flowed among Spencer’s teammates, they all watched as he twisted his wedding ring around his finger – a nervous habit that usually presented itself when he missed you. “Y/N’s boss is en route to Quantico to talk with JJ, the flight’s about three hours, we should get started,” Hotch was the one to speak up, herding the sheep in the correct direction while everything felt aimless.
With his legs tucked beneath himself, Spencer watched the team as they bounced back and forth in a discussion on what you were doing in Dallas and Penelope scoured through your recent communication.
“According to the voicemails and the hotel records, her room was on the third floor,” Emily spoke up, flipping through the file in front of her. “Do we have crime scene photos from the hotel room yet?”
On the video screen, Penelope shook her head, “CSI is still processing the scene, I have an inquiry in with them to send the photos as soon as they can.”
Checking his watch, Hotch looked over at Spencer, still sequestered on one side of the jet, “Make sure they keep the scene undisturbed for when we arrive. Dave and Morgan will meet with the sheriff at the hotel, and the rest of us will head to the precinct to set up.”
If Spencer wanted to be the one to investigate the crime scene, he didn’t protest his assignment, he just continued to spin that gold band on his finger. He didn’t notice the glances exchanged between the rest of his team; he could only think of you.
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With the involvement of the BAU, the team had been redirected to the Dallas Field Office. “There was a hole torn in the window screen, the crime scene techs think that’s how they got inside,” Morgan announced to the team, they were all gathering in the conference room.
“On the third floor?” JJ questioned over video chat, she and Penelope sat right next to each other on the screen.
Rossi nodded, “We must be looking at a team. At least two, likely three UnSub’s in order to pull something like this off. They cut the camera feed and broke into the hotel room where she was staying – this was premeditated.”
It wasn’t difficult to deduce that being taken from the third floor of a hotel meant that you had been a target, but the evidence of a break-in settled like a boulder on Spencer’s chest. Someone had intended to take you. Someone had intended on grabbing you from your hotel room in the middle of the night – and they had succeeded.
“Is there any chance she forgot to close the windows when she went to sleep last night?” Emily looked over at Spencer, dark brows raised quizzically as she leaned over the table, skimming through the voicemail transcripts again.
Clenching his jaw, Spencer shook his head, recalling your promise to close the windows before the end of the night. “No, she’d never forget. She knows I worry,” although, after this, you’d never be able to chide him for worrying too much ever again. Sharing a knowing look with the brunette before him, “So, she’s been missing since last night, not this morning.”
The initial assumption had been that you’d disappeared at some point early in the morning, maybe on your way to your first meeting of the day, no one was entirely sure, but this confirmed that you had been missing for at least eight hours more than the first estimate.
A knock on the door garnered the attention of the team, each of them turning to see a field agent, “Uh, Ezra Buchmann is here to speak with you, he said he got a call from your tech girl.”
Hotch nodded succinctly, “That’s the co-worker who reported the case. Morgan, go see if he needs anything. Dave, let’s go check out the office building that Y/N had been working at.”
“Do you think she might’ve been caught up in something at work?” Spencer asked, following his team members with his eyes as they left the conference room.
The unit chief didn’t provide a forward answer, “I’d like to start checking off some possibilities. It’s been fourteen hours with no firm leads.” It wasn’t as optimistic as anyone had hoped, but Hotch shared a look with Emily before leaving the room.
Rubbing the back of his neck, Spencer turned to the evidence board, looking at the pictures of your hotel room, the water splashed around the rim of the bathroom sink, your phone charging on the bedside table, your wedding ring resting on the counter, and if he separated himself from the missing posters, he could almost convince himself that they were just random pictures. Almost.
Frowning at the blown-up images of partial fingerprints and a random CCTV shot from across the street, he recalled your voicemails. “I wasn’t busy,” he confessed to Emily. “When she called me, I wasn’t busy. I was doing other things, but I wasn’t too busy to answer the phone. I assumed that I’d have the chance to talk to her today,” he said, slightly leaning over the oak table, resting his fingerprints on the varnished surface in an attempt to keep himself standing.
Pursing her lips, Emily took a member for responding, “That’s not an outrageous assumption to make,” she tried to reason with a miserable man. “You’d never think something like this would happen.”
“Until it does,” Spencer continued. “We see it happen to people all the time, we’ve made a life of it, but I never thought it would happen to me. To her,” he maundered. If he had a dollar for every time he had heard the same sentiment from victim’s families, he’d never have to work another day in his life. “I did call her back when I got home last night,” he added, though, he wasn’t entirely sure who he was trying to reassure.
In an effort to comfort him, Emily reached out and patted his arm, “We will find her, Spencer.”
Dead or alive? He wanted to retort, but he bit his tongue, holding it in.
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As a favor to him, in the hopes of providing him with some emotional respite, Emily had haggled with the field agent whose name was last on the chain of custody of your belongings. It wasn’t entirely proper for evidence to be released to family, but she offered to put her name on it in the interim.
She stayed with Spencer in the conference room, letting him keep your things nearby as she spoke with JJ and went through the information that had been acquired back at Quantico. The team now had your performance reviews at work and, according to JJ, your boss couldn’t say enough good things about you. While it was nice to hear, it didn’t bring them any closer to finding where you were.
Tracing the woodgrain of the table with his fingertips, Spencer eventually tuned the phone call out, instead wondering at what point he was obligated to call your parents. He was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice your phone was ringing in the evidence bag before him until Prentiss tapped him on the shoulder.
It was an unknown number, but that was a barrier easily blocked by Garcia with a quick search. The rest of the team watched as she blanched on the screen, “Uh, you might want to answer that.”
“Garcia, who is it?” Hotch asked, a hardened look on his face as he looked from the screen to the buzzing cellphone.
JJ frowned at Penelope’s monitor as if she couldn’t believe what she was reading, “It’s the SEC,” she responded.
Swiftly, Hotch answered the phone call, turning on speakerphone so the rest of the team could hear, “Hello.”
“Hello, may I speak with Mrs. Reid?” A male voice came through the receiver, everyone sharing the same wary look.
Focused on the phone call, Hotch shook his head, “This is Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner with the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit, you can speak with me.” He said, elaborating on the situation and rendering the SEC investigator speechless.
Unable to listen to the conversation any longer, Spencer got up, minding his movements as he walked out of the conference room. He checked the map of the building that was posted on the wall before walking up the stairs, making his way up to the roof of the building.
The dry heat of Dallas was about as miserable as everyone made it out to be, but it was hard to ignore the way it reminded him of home. Maybe he could call his mom – speaking with her usually brought him some semblance of peace. Though, she might have a negative reaction to the situation he found himself in. On the hot rubber roofing, he kicked around piles of dirt before leaning against the ledge of the building, craning his head back and closing his eyes when he heard the rooftop door open.
“Look, I’m really not in the mood for any sort of discussion right now,” he complained, neglecting to spare a glance at whoever was disturbing his quiet – not exactly an Eden, but quiet.
He recognized Emily by the sound her boots made, even on the rubber that had been softened by the relentless sun, “I’d be more surprised if you were in the mood to talk.”
Impulsively, he rolled his eyes, “Did Hotch put you in charge of me?” He was glad his eyes were still shut, that way he couldn’t see the look on Emily’s face when he sniped at her.
“No,” she responded, gathering his attention as he brought his head down, squinting in the sunlight. “I thought you might want to know what just happened,” she nearly challenged, dark hair gleaming in the daylight.
Mentally kicking himself, he nodded for a moment, “You’re right, I just… I’m sorry.”
Taking a moment, Prentiss walked over, standing next to him, “I know.” She sighed, turning around and taking inventory of the surrounding buildings, “She was sent out here to look at some shady dealings of the company – insider trading, that kind of stuff. The main branch has an investigation open with the SEC, and they have been for the last few months. She was supposed to meet with that Ezra guy this morning to try and work something out. Hotch is talking to the CEO right now, he’s claiming he couldn’t tell JJ because it’s need-to-know,” Emily explained, focusing her eyes on the highway in the distance. “The SEC has an office in Fort Worth, they’re sending some people, and they faxed over all of the files.”
Setting his jaw, Spencer was the first to move to the stairs, the air conditioning providing an instant relief as he strode down the steps with Emily trailing close behind.
A field agent was standing in the middle of the office, stirring a cup of coffee, “Would someone really kidnap a woman over an SEC investigation?”
“We’ve seen much worse for much less,” Spencer mentioned in passing, swerving through the office of people until he made it back to the conference room. “Why would Y/N’s boss send her to investigate something that had already been brought to the SEC?” He posed the question to the rest of the team, taking one of the files that Morgan handed him and reading through the pages.
Rossi shrugged, nodding his head in the direction of the evidence board, “He wanted it handled quietly,” he posited. “Maybe he thought she could negotiate a solution and they could call off the securities investigation.”
Understanding where Spencer was going with his question, Hotch watched the board as if it was all coming together, “But, Y/N had no idea there was an open investigation. This was just another assignment to her.”
You had basically said as much in your voicemails, you went in, and you cleaned up fires across the country, and now you were caught in a blaze. “It was a setup,” Spencer concluded.
“And I know just who you need to talk to,” Garcia said over the phone, typing on her keyboard, “Check your phones.”
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Ezra’s assistant folded immediately under the threat of being charged with interfering with a federal investigation. She had no knowledge of what her boss was up to, but she did know where the BAU could find him.
On the edge of the city, your company held an old office building that was slated for demolition. With the information from the assistant and some actions of questionable legality from Garcia, the team was able to nail down Ezra’s location and, hopefully, yours.
Letting SWAT lead the way, Spencer, Emily, and Morgan all made their way up yet another flight of stairs, hoping to be able to find you on the third floor. The SWAT commander signaled with his fingers to direct everyone in their respective directions.
There was a clang from across the floor and everyone froze in place, “Fuck you!” Your voice rang out, reverberating through the mostly empty office space. The yelp that followed would have sent Spencer clambering in your direction if it weren’t for Morgan grabbing his arm in warning. “I didn’t know,” you spoke again, your tone less obstinate as the misery you felt crept in.
Drawing their weapons, the team clung to the wall as SWAT gave orders over comms until the team came into view, lifting their firearms.
In retaliation, Ezra pulled you up, keeping a deadly tight grip on your upper arm as he kept you compliant by pressing the barrel of his gun to your temple. “She told me you’d come,” he said, nearly seething with rage like a rabid animal.
It seemed like a ridiculous moment to feel relief, but the fact that you knew the BAU would come for you ever so slightly lightened the weight on Spencer’s shoulders. However, whatever relief he felt was quickly banished from existence when his eyes met yours, you were covered in blood. It leaked in a steady stream from your nose and down your sleep shirt, he hoped that was the extent of the damage that had been done but based on the evidence of a struggle in the hotel room, he doubted it.
“Y/N, don’t look at him, look at us, look at Spencer,” Emily reasoned, noting the way you looked over at your captor, eyeing the gun in his hand.
You didn’t look scared, not to Spencer, though Emily had reasonably assumed that you would be in this situation. “Y/N, don’t,” Spencer said in a warning.
But his warning came too late, you had already swung your bound hands up, grabbing the weapon from Ezra as you kicked his legs out from under him. If Spencer hadn’t been so worried, he would’ve been impressed, but now he found himself in an entirely different situation.
“The safety’s still on,” you chastised as your now shaking hands undid the small latch, settling your pointer finger on the trigger as you stared him down.
SWAT seemed entirely dumbfounded, not sure how to go about the admittedly unique situation, so, it fell upon your husband to talk you down. Slowly, he holstered his weapon and stepped toward you, “Baby, put the gun down.”
You sucked in a harsh breath, “He set me up, Spence”
“I know, darling, I know,” Spencer said breathlessly, holding his hands out to stop any and all movement in the warehouse. “This isn’t the answer though, okay? You know this isn’t the answer.”
Your hands didn’t stop shaking, still bound together by the flex cuffs on your wrists as you narrowed your eyes at Ezra. “He set me up,” your voice broke at the sheer memory of the betrayal.
Distantly, you heard Derek tell people to lower their weapons, convincing the field agents that you weren’t a threat. “This isn’t you,” Spencer insisted.
Blinking as tears fell from your eyes, you gripped the handle of the gun, leaving your pointer finger hovering precariously on the trigger. This isn’t you. This isn’t the answer. This isn’t you. This isn’t the answer.
Swallowing thickly, you looked down at Ezra, who was taunting you, trying to get you to pull the trigger. You fought against yourself, trying not to stare at Spencer because you knew as soon as you met his brown eyes, the choice would be made for you.
“Pull the damn trigger,” Ezra jeered, baring his teeth at you. This was it; this was the end. The FBI had the whole building surrounded. Even if he tried to run, the BAU would follow him, they’d chase him down, and they’d kill him themselves if it came down to it.
Slowly, you moved your thumb, re-engaging the safety before you lowered your arms, handing the gun off to Spencer. As he grabbed the barrel of the gun with one hand, he pulled you in with the other, passing the gun off to Emily so he could hug you tightly.
He pulled away for a moment, retrieving a pocketknife and using it to cut the flex cuffs from your wrists, letting the stiff plastic fall to the ground, and catching you when you practically threw your arms around him.
Your legs gave out from under you, and Spencer wondered how long you had been in this sweltering building without water, likely having used the last of your strength to stop Ezra. “Shh,” he hushed gently, “Let’s sit down,” he spoke to only you as he guided you to the ground.
Closer to you now, he saw more of the damage that had been done, the glazed look over your eyes, your chapped lips, and a bruise on the side of your head. “I knew you’d come,” you murmured dazedly, swaying ever so slightly, “I told him you’d come.”
“I know, I know,” Spencer reassured you, listening to the buzzing of people, hopefully EMTs, around you.
A hiccupping sob almost broke his heart, but he just kept his hold on you, keeping you upright and wishing your nosebleed would clot. “I almost killed him,” you mumbled.
But you didn’t, he wanted to respond. Part of him felt like it would’ve been fine if you had. You’d have gotten away with it, even, but he knew firsthand what it felt like to take another life. He wanted to believe that he had played a part in you turning the safety back on, but even he wasn’t sure.
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“How are you feeling? Better?” Spencer asked, sitting on the edge of your hospital bed and taking your hand in his.
He squeezed your hand gently, allowing you to admire the way your wedding ring looked now that it had been returned to its rightful home. “Much,” you assured him, keeping your head resting on the mountain of pillows behind you. You had been cleaned up, stitches on your forehead, and a bandaged cut on your thigh, but the main concern was your dehydration. An IV delivered fluids to you while you sipped on a cup of water, waiting for your stomach to settle enough for you to eat something.
Spencer raised his eyebrows, reaching out and sweeping a strand of hair behind your ear, “Good enough to try something for dinner?”
You nodded apprehensively, “Something light?”
The smile that sprouted on his face was enough to convince you to eat. He offered to go talk to your nurse, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead before he left the room, leaving the door open so you could see him in the hallway.
A small chime got your attention, looking around for the source of the noise, you found yourself digging through Spencer’s bag, retrieving your cell phone from the leather satchel.
There was a scratch over the screen, but it still worked just fine following your skirmish in the hotel, you opened the phone to find that you had a voicemail. You tapped the message before bringing the phone to your ear.
Tuesday, 10:23 p.m.
“Hey love, I’m just leaving the office now. I’m sure they’ll be more receptive to you as you talk more, you can be very convincing. The weather is very dry in Texas, make sure you keep hydrated, okay? I’m sorry I didn’t answer any of your calls, we’ve been trying to prepare all of this paperwork for Strauss and time just got away from us. I miss you, maybe when you get home, we could talk about taking a trip. We could go see my mom. It’s been a while. Hm… I have to admit, I’m a little bummed you didn’t answer the phone, but I’m glad you’re getting sleep. I love you so much, sleep well.”
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halfvalid · 1 year ago
Text
nobody but you
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ABOUT
alternate title: the jealous character trope is actually kinda fun to write
rating: teen+
characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!vinsmoke sanji | live action!straw hats ensemble
pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader
word count: 3.5k
description: sanji flirts endlessly with you while dining at the baratie. zoro is displeased.
tags: strawhat!reader, female reader, fluff, kissing, no use of 'y/n', establishment of relationship, flirting, alcohol consumption, pda
author’s note: i got like ~5 requests to write this so here you guys go! this was a popular one lmao. the story is a vague spinoff to my other fic pretty in that, but it doesn't have to be read to understand this one.
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You’d volunteered to deal with the docking fees for the Going Merry, locking up the pirate ship as the rest of the crew entered Baratie. You were just five or so minutes late entering after the restaurant the rest of the Straw Hats had gone into. You’d never seen anything like it before—an eatery right in the middle of the ocean, in the shape of a giant fish. 
You stepped into the building cautiously, glancing around the wide expanse of the main room to try and catch a glimpse of your friends. The restaurant was big, with a mezzanine that you’d entered in and stairs leading down to the first floor. The host, a fishman who was standing at the reservation desk, glanced up to take a look at you. 
“Ah, you must be with the pirates,” he said pleasantly. “Right this way, miss.” 
You nodded, wondering how Luffy was intending on paying for the bill of such a place as you scoped out the area. It was far nicer than anything you would’ve expected—but then again, he’d somehow managed to score the Going Merry from Kaya back in Syrup Village, so you figured he’d work something out. 
Finally, you caught a glimpse of the rest of your crew, tucked away in a circular side booth that the fishman led you to. Luffy brightened upon seeing you, waving you over with a hand so excitedly you feared it was about to flop around like rubber. Considering his powers, that was a more than likely situation, actually. 
“Thank you,” you told the host, then turned towards your friends. “No food yet?” 
“You didn’t miss much,” Usopp said, a little snicker in his voice. “Just the waiter getting our drink orders. He was flirting the heck outta Nami.”
“Oh?” you asked, a smile flickering up your lips. The only open space in the table was between Zoro and Nami—you gave Zoro a confused look, and he gestured down to his swords, which were caught in the ledge between the chair and the wall. You snickered. “Ro. You’re such a loser.” 
“Shut up,” Zoro muttered, hand on your waist as you climbed over him to get to the empty seat. It stayed there for a moment longer, even after you’d arranged yourself in the seat, before he finally dropped his hand. Usopp made a face that you pointedly ignored. 
“What’d you guys order?” you asked instead. If there’d been a menu available, the waiter had probably taken it away; still, there wasn’t much variety in the East Blue, so you could expect there’d be a lot of seafood and not much else. 
“One of everything,” Luffy responded brightly. “So we’ll be able to try the whole menu!” 
“You sure that’s a good idea, Cap?” you asked, brows raised. Luffy shrugged. 
“I don’t see why not.”
“Quit it with the nickname,” Zoro muttered. Neither him or Nami had gotten any more receptive to it since you’d first started calling Luffy it. Usopp didn’t seem so keen on it either—if only because he fancied himself Captain Usopp. Luffy liked it, though, and that pleased you enough to keep using it.
“I’ll get you to start saying it eventually,” you teased, nudging Zoro in the arm. He shook his head, but there was a suggestion of a smile on his lips as he glanced away. “Just you wait.” You turned to Nami, eyes sparkling. “What about the waiter, though? Was he cute?” 
Usopp laughed at that, and Nami gave you a disparaging look. “Come on,” she started. “Not you too. Zoro was all—” 
The sound of footsteps cut off her speech, and you glanced up to find a lean, blond man pausing by the lip of your table. He held a silver plate, upon which perched a variety of different drinks—beers, milk, water. “Here are your drinks,” he said, voice lifting with an accent you couldn’t quite place. “And appetizers.” 
He had just finished placing the last of the drinks balancing on his forearm on the table when the waiter glanced up and registered you sitting there. His expression instantly changed, the crease of his mouth softening into a pleasant smile, his previously-dull blue eyes bright and sparkling. “Well, hello there. An addition?” 
“Yeah, sorry I’m late,” you said. The waiter flashed a grin, white ivories shining under the fluorescents.  
“Oh, absolutely no problem. They say those who are late are fashionable, and you, madam, certainly fit the bill,” the waiter said. Your eyes widened, glancing over to Nami to find her shaking her head, but the waiter didn’t stop there. “I’m Sanji. What can I get for you to drink? We’ve got a wide selection of fine wines that might suit your taste.” 
“Oh, um—” you started, glancing at the rest of your crew again. Usopp was hiding his snicker, and Nami was giving you a tired look. Assumedly this had been the man who’d tried it on her, too—to unfortunate ends, probably, considering how Nami was. Not that this would be any more effective on you. Your eye was already captured by a particular green-haired swordsman, after all. “I don’t really have anything in mind.”
Sanji looked pleased about that, clasping his hands together around his platter. “Ah, let me guess, then. A bayberry or red currant wine, perhaps? Fruity, tart, full of flavor.” he winked. “A feisty drink for a feisty girl.” 
“Can’t say I’ve tried it, but sure,” you said, the faintest smile on your lips. “I’ll let you know how I like it.” 
Sanji grinned, looking rather satisfied with that, a delighted little smile on his lips. “One red currant wine, then. I’ll have it right out. And would you also like to order a meal, or…” He glanced over at Luffy, presumably referencing your captain’s more-than-outrageous order. “Are you all set?” 
“I think we’re set, thanks,” you assured, and Sanji nodded. He flashed you another bright smile before turning on his heel back off to the kitchen. 
Usopp finally let out the laughter he’d been keeping in, choked sounds emitting from his throat as he thudded his chest with a fist. You rolled your eyes, but it was good-natured, letting Usopp laugh. 
“Well, at least I’m not being singled out,” Nami said with a sigh, and you exchanged a sympathetic glance with her. She patted your hand comfortingly, then scrutinized the water Sanji had gotten her. “At least he didn’t put it in a flute.” 
“Zoro, you’ve got competition!” Usopp called, still laughing from the entire ordeal. You glanced to your side, to where the swordsman sat. Zoro had stiffened sometime during the conversation, jaw clenched and arms wound tightly across his chest. He hadn’t even touched the beer that Sanji had set in front of him, eyes fixed carefully to a spot beside Luffy’s head and refusing to look over at you. 
“He’s a waiter,” Zoro said crisply. “He buses tables for a living.” With that, he grabbed his bottle, popping the tab and taking a swig. 
“I don’t know, man, did you see the way he took down those pirates?” Usopp turned to you, all excited again. “Oh, you missed this whole thing! Two pirates were fighting over a seat or something, and Sanji just demolished both of them! You would’ve loved it.” 
“He is a really good fighter,” Luffy agreed. Their words did nothing but seem to annoy Zoro further. 
“Can we not talk about the restaurant personnel? Surely you can think of more interesting topics of conversation.” His tone was sharp, and all icy, and you inched your hand closer to his leg to tap his thigh in question. He glanced down at your touch, but didn’t deign to say anything else. He just picked up his beer again, nursing it while the rest of the crew continued on with their conversation. 
Despite Luffy changing the subject, Zoro didn’t speak, and you kept peeking glances over at him in concern. Your feelings for him had just continued developing ever since Syrup Village, although neither of you had reasonably talked about the closet incident since it’d happened. What with the reveal of Kuro and the escape from the marines and all, there hadn’t exactly been time to. But you’d been on good terms, and the actions he made around you—pressing a hand to your waist as you moved past him, turning towards you first mid-conversation, shoving you down when the marines had fired their first cannon at the Going Merry. 
Before you could whisper to him and question what his silence was about, though, Sanji reappeared, carrying two platters filled to the brim with plates. They were laden with different types of meat and vegetables, sauces glinting under the light and hot steam still billowing. 
He set the dishes on the table, somehow managing to arrange them so they all fit on the countertop. Sanji set down the last plate then turned to you, placing a glass and a bottle of dark crimson wine on the table in front of you. He had to lean over Zoro to reach, and Zoro flinched, but still didn’t say anything as Sanji uncorked the bottle and poured you a glass. 
“Tell me what you think,” he said, all smiles again. “I’ll be embarrassed if it isn’t to your liking.”
You picked the glass up, swirling it carefully inside the glass before leaning down into the cup to take in a full sniff. You tilted your head back to take a small sip, moving the liquid around your mouth to fully savor the flavor before finally swallowing. The wine was sweet, light rather than rich with a delicate tartness that burst on your tongue. You glanced up just to see a giant grin had stretched up Sanji’s mouth, brightening his face up considerably. 
“What?” you asked. 
“Not often do I see a patron who knows how to taste wine properly,” Sanji answered with a little duck of his head. “A lady of class, I see. How do you like it?” 
“Not too strong. I like the tartness,” you answered. “A good recommendation. Thank you.” 
Sanji gave you a little bow, hand flourishing to the side as he dipped his head. “I live to serve.” 
“Yeah, well, why don’t you serve me another beer?” Zoro said abruptly. Usopp coughed, and you could see Nami elbow him out of your peripheral vision. Luffy just looked confused. 
Sanji’s face fell almost immediately after Zoro had spoken, his eyes flickering away from yours. “Of course. I’ll be right back,” he said, a tight smile at his lips. He ducked out of the booth, and Zoro let out an irritated noise, tongue flicking against from the roof of his mouth. 
Usopp snorted, fully this time, and you turned to glance over at him—he and Nami were both hiding their gazes, though you could see smiles cracked along their lips. 
Zoro glared at them. “Shut it.” 
“Not saying anything!” Usopp said, though he half-hid behind Luffy like Zoro was going to lunge over the table to get to him. That didn’t seem… entirely unlikely, actually; Zoro’s right hand rested firmly on the handle of one of his swords, fingers ready to pull the blade at any second. You watched him out of the corner of your eye, wanting to say something. But not in front of everyone else. It wouldn’t be appropriate, you decided. 
Eventually your meal wound down to an end. Zoro got less and less tense throughout it, though you were fairly certain that was due to the drinks he was having rather than any actual reassurance. Sanji, thankfully, came back with the bill in the middle of a conversation you really didn’t want to think about—Luffy and his marine grandfather was not something your mind wanted to dwell on—only for him to disappear again. 
Just moments later, a man with a braided mustache came storming out of the kitchen. Luffy did some more of his Luffy nonsense, and, honestly—you were getting too tired about all of this to pay any close attention. You spared a glance over at Zoro again. His face was as blank as ever.  
“Okay,” Usopp said slowly, a few delayed seconds after who’d undoubtedly been the head chef yanked Luffy out of his seat. “I’m ready to check out whatever’s outside. Let’s go.” 
“What about Luffy?” you asked, perplexed. 
“He’ll find his way out of that,” Nami said with a sigh. She stood up, knocking back the rest of her drink. Since she wasn’t exactly wrong, you got up, glancing over your shoulder at the last of the group that remained seated. “Zoro?” 
Zoro was staring into his now-empty bottle of beer. He still seemed off, the line of his mouth creased downwards, jaw set tight. “Yeah,” he said finally, standing to his full height and slipping out of the booth. He offered you a hand, helping you down from your seat, but said nothing more. 
The four of you headed out to the mouth of the Baratie fish, which boasted a bar decorated with neon lights. You found a place to sit by the fish’s bottom lip, and you turned in your seat, staring out at the sea. The water was dark with the night, peaceful ripples moving across the water that sent shimmering waves across the blue. 
“I’m gonna get a drink,” Usopp said. “Come, Nami?” 
“Huh?” Nami glanced up, and you turned to watch the exchange. “Oh, I’m okay, Usopp. Thanks, though.” 
“No,” Usopp insisted, a smile still pasted on his face as he jerked his head, not very discreetly, in your and Zoro’s direction. Nami seemed to realize, then, eyes going wide before she got up from her seat. 
“Actually, on second thought, I’ll join you,” she said, far smoother than Usopp had been. “God knows you don’t have any money to pay for a drink.”
She breezed past him, ignoring the offended gape Usopp left in her wake before he was scrambling to follow her. You turned your attention towards Zoro—he was lounging in the seat across from you, one hand on his swords with his legs crossed. “Hi,” you said carefully. 
He stiffened. “Hey.” 
You pursed your lips, mulling over the ways to go about the conversation before ultimately deciding to spit it out. “What’s wrong?” At his raised brow, you were prompted to continue— “During dinner. You were acting weird.”
Zoro shook his head, dropping his gaze from yours. You could see the faintest trace of freckles spattered along his cheeks, the yellow glow from the lanterns reflecting off his skin. “Nothing’s wrong. Just… the waiter.”
“The waiter,” you repeated. Zoro shifted, legs uncrossing and hand tightening around his swords again. His voice was low the next time he spoke, and you could barely hear him, having to lean forward to catch all of his words.
“He was flirting with you.” 
Your breath hitched, but you tried to keep your tone casual. “He was flirting with Nami too,” you said, glancing up to meet his eyes. Zoro still wouldn’t meet your gaze, staring out into the East Blue behind you. 
“That’s different.” Zoro’s eyes finally lifted, long eyelashes casting shadows on his cheeks as you met eyes. You shivered, gooseflesh suddenly prickling up everywhere on your skin—the back of your neck, up your spine, down your arms and legs. “I don’t like Nami.” 
You tilted your head to the side, meeting his gaze. The words sent a little rush through you; a rush you got practically every time Zoro looked in your direction, actually, which was only a little bit annoying. The amount of influence a man you’d known for, comparatively, not that long had over you had you rolling your eyes all the time, but… you trusted Zoro at this point, as uncooperative as he and Nami had been throughout your entire journey. 
“You’re jealous of a waiter.” 
“Don’t—” Zoro sighed. “Don’t put it like that.” 
“But it’s true. You’re jealous of a waiter,” you said, unblinking. Zoro rolled his eyes, teeth resting along his lower lip in an almost-bite. You snickered, tone sloping upwards to become more teasing, almost sarcastic. “How the mighty have fallen. From me practically begging you to say I looked nice in a dress to this.” 
“Okay, that’s enough,” Zoro said, uncrossing his legs to lean over and press his hand over your mouth. You laughed, surprised, as he leaned over you, eyes sparkling at the reaction. “Not another word.” 
He removed his hand, giving you a look. You betrayed his trust almost immediately. “Of a waiter.” 
“Do you want me to put the hand back?” Zoro threatened, but you were full-on laughing by now, and he couldn’t do anything but watch. The sounds escaped from your mouth, ringing out in soft, lively hiccups. He shook his head, hand falling to his side as he watched you, a ghost of a smile tugging up the side of his mouth. 
“Sorry, Ro,” you said, unable to suppress your grin even as your laughter died off. “It’s a little funny, you have to admit.” 
“I’d like to hear you talk if someone was flirting with me,” Zoro muttered, so quiet you could barely hear. You had to stifle another laugh. 
“Okay, well, unlike you, I don’t get territorial over people I haven’t even talked about my relationship with, but I appreciate it.” You nudged him. “It’s kinda cute.”
Zoro seemed lost in the first half of your sentence, and you could practically see the cogs whirring in his head. For a moment, you were worried that the closet had been a one-time thing—but no, he’d mentioned just earlier that he liked you, so clearly something else was the matter. 
Your worries were answered in just another moment. “...We’re supposed to talk about our relationship?”
“Zoro.” You gave him a look of disbelief, forced to suppress another laugh, though this time it was out of incredulity. “Yes. Have you ever dated anyone before?” 
Zoro made a face at that. “Keeping that to myself, thanks.” He dropped his chin, glancing down at where you were, still leaning over you so you were forced to crane your neck to stare up at him. He tilted his head to the side. “So what kind of talking are we supposed to be doing?” 
“You know, the establishment of being exclusive; a cementation of our feelings; what the relationship entails; where we want it to go…” You paused, watching as his eyes flickered down your face. Your words were going in one ear and out the other. “You’re not listening at all, huh.” 
“Not really,” Zoro said, not sounding very apologetic about it. His free hand came to cup the underside of your jaw, tilting your head up just so. “Is the talking really that necessary?” 
You shrugged, trying to keep your cool. “Eventually.” 
“Eventually,” he repeated, stretching out the syllables of the word as he quoted you. “So we can do it another day.”
You bit the inside of your cheek to hide your smile. “What were you thinking?”
Zoro was slotting his lips over yours before you could say another word, his fingers digging into the hinge of your jaw to allow him better access. You smiled into the kiss, lips curling upwards and open to let him lick into your mouth. 
It wasn’t too risqué, but Zoro took your breath away all the same, an appreciative murmur low in his throat as he kissed you. One of your hands wrapped around his wrist, tugging him insistently downwards so you could get a better angle at his mouth, sucking gently at his lower lip. He nearly stumbled, losing his center of gravity before steadying himself, one hand coming to rest on your ribcage as the kiss deepened. 
“Guys!” Usopp’s voice came somewhere from the right, high-pitched and excessively scandalized. You felt Zoro scoff into your mouth.
“You realize you’re in public, right?” Nami deadpanned, plopping down in the seat next to you. You nudged Zoro’s head away, his hand still on your jaw, half-craned over your figure. Nami looked unimpressed, eyes flickering from Zoro to you and back again. “Get a room. Go back to the Going Merry for all I care.” She extended a hand, placing a mug of beer on the table before you before handing you a matching one. “I got you drinks. You’re welcome.” 
“Thanks,” you said, leaning up to press one final kiss on Zoro’s lips before turning to take the glass Nami had outstretched. Usopp groaned, covering his eyes with one hand and lifting a giant cup of something with the other. It was so big you wondered how he’d even been able to carry it. You eyed him. “You’re going to pass out drinking that.” 
Usopp made a face at you. You just laughed. 
“Sorted out your issues with the waiter, then?” Nami asked, turning to fix a knowing look on Zoro. He rolled his eyes, effortless as ever as he settled back down into his seat. 
“Still don’t like the waiter.” 
“You’re ridiculous,” you said, and Zoro scoffed, picking up the mug Nami had gotten him. You could see the smile behind the glass rim, though, even as he clearly tried to hide it, and matched it with one of your own. 
Zoro ducked his head to smile into his beer. Usopp made a gagging sound. “God,” Nami muttered, but their criticisms might as well have been deaf to your ears by then. 
All you could see was Zoro. 
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© halfvalid 2023
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ozzgin · 10 months ago
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Yandere! Yokai Harem Headcanons
Meet your (6) monster boyfriends!
Since the story will take a while to unfold, I decided to speed things up and properly introduce you to the characters. A little time skip to Reader becoming an onmyōji herself and renewing the bonds with the yokai men, this time at their request. They cannot bear the thought of separating from their darling and since she has reneged her life as a regular human being, someone has to keep her company. And so the days are spent exorcising evil spirits both in modern and feudal Japan, with a pack of demons following close behind.
[Main story] [Character Guide]
Content: female reader, monster smut, NSFW, obsessive behavior, reader is a monster hoe again but feigns mild reluctance
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Kiritsubo
Kiritsubo is your very first yokai encounter and he almost immediately falls for you. He's always been at the receiving end of his master's wrath for not being able to use his powers, so much that even after Nakamaro’s ‘death’ he couldn’t sleep without being plagued by horrid nightmares. His back is covered in thick scars from the frequent punishments. You first begun to suspect his background when you jumped in to protect him from an incoming blow and he froze in terror, unable to look up and awaiting the anticipated discipline.
Needles to say that when he learns you're not like the previous onmyōji he becomes extremely clingy and needy. He can only rest if you're next to him and will often hug you for reassurance. You've shared a bed before there was any hint of romance, simply because he found your presence so soothing. That's not to say he relies on you for everything. In fact, he unlocks his nearly unmatched abilities purely out of his desire to protect you. He’s found his purpose in serving you, someone who showed him kindness when he needed it most.
As you go out into the world, he begins to question his exact feelings for you. An example of his intense musings: he's asked you, perplexed, whether he can kiss you like the people he's seen on the street. He's spent his entire life being trained by Abe no Nakamaro, so he struggles to understand how relationships work. He will be utterly oblivious to other people flirting with him (it happens every now and then, he is a handsome demon after all), but simultaneously worry that everyone is out to have you. He’s already very salty about the other yokai joining your side and will frequently remind them he was the first to accept you.
When you complete your transition as an onmyōji, the priestess warns you that you may no longer partake in any kind of bonding with your fellow humans. Kiritsubo, seated next to you, responds almost instantly with eyes sparkling in excitement: "Well, that doesn’t extend to yokai, does it? I can still make you my wife.”
Kiritsubo is very clumsy when being intimate with you for the first time, but it doesn’t take long for him to become rather addicted to the feeling. You often have to scold him to behave and in return he’ll be pouting and fidgeting until you finally give in to his pleading gaze. He’s very vocal and touchy and will leave you covered in scratches from all the pulling. Towards the end he’s a drooling mess, mumbling about how much he loves you and begging you to never, ever leave him.
Murasaki
Murasaki is very cold and sarcastic on the surface, but you soon realize he is the most caring and responsible of the group, always looking out for everyone and trying to keep them out of trouble. In fewer words, he's almost like a tsundere mother hen (he won't hesitate to put you in a headlock if you mention it, though). He goes along with your wishes and will politely listen to anything you tell him, but to others he remains stoic and even rude. You’re sometimes reminded of the preferential treatment when witnessing his aggressive way of dealing with his suitors, shooing them away with the utmost disgusted scowl.
“Huh? Why can’t I be nicer to others? Bold of you to assume my tolerance is not, in fact, a limited resource spent entirely on dealing with you.”
He's been your guardian from the day you met him. He taught you how to use a sword and how to properly cast spells and seems to have a solution for all your troubles. When you introduced the yokai to the modern world you assumed he'd struggle to adapt, but he was extremely quick to learn and is, to this day, accumulating knowledge at a dizzying pace. One wouldn't be able to tell him apart from a regular city dweller. Murasaki is the concrete definition of a jack of all trades, excelling in whatever he sets his mind on.
Given his status and skills, the other yokai have always been rather jealous of him, including Kiritsubo. Ironically enough, by the time Murasaki accepted his infatuation towards you, you'd already gotten close to Kiritsubo. Which resulted in a lot of unexplained jealous bouts from a yokai too prideful to admit he loves you just as much. (You eventually get him to confess and reach the agreement to distribute the wealth among workers.)
He will occasionally be in a good enough mood to share with Kiritsubo, but it frequently results in a bizarre competition between them as you awkwardly squirm underneath, overstimulated. More often he prefers to pull you aside after you've done the deed with another yokai and aggressively fuck you as a way to assert his dominance. "Oh, was he that good? Then why are you moaning much louder now?" He'll demand with a firm grasp around your throat. Sadly his extreme competitiveness extends to this area as well.
Suma
Among the yokai, Suma is the most easygoing one despite his intimidating appearance. Most evenings he’ll have a drink in hand, eager to chitchat and ramble by the campfire, with his relaxed laughter resounding across the place. He is very loud and blunt and will often need to be reminded of the colossal power imbalance between him and regular humans and demons. Although after accidentally dislocating your shoulder (he was terribly amused by your joke and gave you a friendly pat), he’s gotten much better at adjusting the amount of force he uses, especially with you.
You’ve only witnessed him serious on two occasions: first one is a recurring event, when he’s training alone. When you’re together, he’s always in a merry mood, letting you try out moves and spells on him and frequently praising you even after failures. His whole demeanor changes when he’s by himself, swinging the spear with a calculated, focused gaze that remains unperturbed until the end of his session. The second case is when you get hurt. Now, he does encourage you to fight, and your confidence in battle is what caused him to fall head over heels in love with you. He will immediately put a stop to it, however, if the opponent ends up harming you. Seeing your lips curl in pain is enough to set him off and send him into a full blown rage.
Suma is destructive in all the ways you can think of. Given his massive size, as much as he’d love to, having his way with you is not something that can happen spontaneously. Borrowing his powers can of course help your frail body to not immediately tear apart, but depending on how much self control he has (or lack of), you might end up needing urgent healing from Sakaki. Suma will be extremely apologetic for nearly fucking you to death, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it. A more common approach is riding his hand, as one or two fingers are enough to make you dizzy. He’ll be satisfied just hearing your needy whimpers. He also adores watching you whenever you give him handjobs as your little, delicate hands struggle to hold onto him. You’re insignificant compared to him and yet you persevere, feisty and horny. His precious, tiny warrior.
Yuugiri
Yuugiri is by nature a manipulative, masterful liar, so it comes as no surprise that you had a hard time trusting him in the beginning. His habit of teasing you certainly didn’t help, as you could never tell whether he’s serious about something or not. Perhaps the greatest irony is that even when he tries to be honest, it comes out crooked. Such is the fate of a deceiving demon, although most people are only familiar with fox spirits. On his end, he loves that you’re so transparent and obvious, even occasionally naive. And so it took a lot of awkward pleading to convince you to renew a binding contract with him, given everyone was suspecting him of ulterior motives.
For Yuugiri, being part of such contract is the most vulnerable offering he could've given you as proof of his love. As your souls become connected, you can perceive his feelings in ways otherwise impossible to achieve. He willingly allowed you to be able to read his heart, and thankfully it worked. It was his last, desperate resort to get you to understand his affections. Do you finally see the earnest adoration he harbors for you?
He is the best choice if you're looking for a best friend to gossip with. He enjoys listening to your stories and pays great attention to every detail. He's also frighteningly vengeful, especially when it involves you. So if you ever complain about someone to him, know that he will remember it forever and will make sure to continuously get back at the offender in the worst possible ways and will only stop when you tell him to.
Now listen, I’m about to be quite crass but it is what it is: as a serpent demon he has a long, forked tongue and let’s just say everyone in the household can tell if he’s eating you out because it will be loud. It will be followed by the walk of shame, when you eventually have to come out of the room red-faced and sore-legged, with Yuugiri donning a devilish grin for the rest of the day. You always swear to keep it in next time, but within moments you’re tightly gripping onto his horns, mumbling his name in a feverish, drunken haze. Naturally, he can read you like an open book and this truth stands for more intimate matters as well. Leave it to Yuugiri to know what his darling likes best.
Sekiya
Sekiya has been fascinated with you from the moment you stepped into the ancient Tomb. To see the anxious, quiet Kiritsubo happily wag his tail after you and the stern, irritable Murasaki readily at your service…It was a sight most unfamiliar to him and he wondered how a mere human like you managed to whip them into this kind of submission. He refused to believe you’d be stronger than Abe no Nakamaro himself, yet after the battle - from which you emerged victorious - it suddenly occurred to him that it wasn’t fear or obedience coming from the two yokai companions. Just honest, unadulterated love. He felt his chest tighten with envy, all the resentment of being sealed in with an evil, hateful sorcerer finally erupting its way to the surface.
So when you offered him and Sakaki to join you (“What else is left to do among these ruins?”), he couldn’t agree fast enough. To think he, too, could be spoiled with the affections of someone like you. On the other hand, Sekiya is an insecure, nervous wreck of an overthinker and he felt like he couldn’t offer anything worthy in return. He’s a demon that casts barriers. Nothing more, nothing less. He doesn’t have Murasaki’s genius, or Kiritsubo’s raw power, or Suma’s brute strength…What use could you possibly find in him? Hence the constant need for reassurance. He will need you to pull him out of his melancholy every now and then, just a small nudge from the savior he so worships.
It’s an extremely rare occurrence, but Sekiya can get cheeky if his ego is stroked properly. So, for example, he’ll take advantage of the fact you’re both alone in the modern world and show you the handy usage of his barriers: a crowded intersection overflowing with people, and yet no one can see him greedily thrusting into you right in the middle of everything. It’s the high of sprawling you out in public without actually being seen. It’s also one of the reasons you no longer take him furniture shopping. Last time you asked him to help you pick a new table from Ikea and were confused by his requirement of it being “high enough”. Before you could ask for further explanations, the immediate vicinity started twirling into a blur and his heavy arm bent you over the surface. “Let me demonstrate”, he purred in your ear. Sure, no one saw you dripping with his cum, nonetheless scanning the items with your clenched legs and deep crimson face was humiliating enough.
Sakaki
Despite his gift to heal and revive, Sakaki is a terribly miserable demon, often plagued by gloom and death. He is especially receptive to negative emotions, and given your souls are connected, he is the first to detect any change in your mood. (You had to learn to block out the persistent throb of jealousy that tugs at your heart whenever the yokai is particularly insecure.) He takes great pride in the fact that he can understand your sadness better than anyone. The second you feel down, he’ll be right behind you: “Worry not, we shall suffer together. Such is the fate of lovers.”
The first time he joined you back into the modern world, you’ve perhaps mistakenly introduced him to classic literature you assumed he’d like. He indeed became infatuated with authors like Poe, Baudelaire, Rimbaud, Shelley, Hoffmann. For the first time in his long life, Sakaki felt understood, and you’re glad to have played a role in his new interest. Yet you can’t help the shivers running down your spine whenever you become the target of his overflowing, renewed inspiration. Grim, ghastly paintings, deplorably obsessive poems…You’ve unleashed an authentic Romantic poet whose only muse is you.
He’s a master of eerie awkwardness, more so now that he has access to modern entertainment. You were excited when he asked you out on a picnic date, only to discover you’ve been taken to a foggy graveyard. He enthusiastically explained his choice: you can scout burial plots in case one of you dies (he’ll die with you, no worries), it is a stunning reminder that his love for you is eternal, and you might even find potential names if you ever want children. Another time, when you rented a boat during a sunny day at the lake, he cheerfully wondered how you’d look if you were to drown (still as beautiful as ever, he’s certain). Ah, but he does not dwell on dark things only. He recently took you to see the famous Cirque du Soleil and he was equally mesmerized by all the light and colors. It was Corteo: the story of a funeral cortège for a clown.
Sakaki does not like sharing and prefers to hang out with you alone, without the other demons. In fact, he’ll spend the day holed up in his room, writing or painting, or go out on lone walks if he knows you’re messing around with someone. He’d rather not hear anything that would cause him turmoil. The only exception is Sekiya, as they spent decades in isolation together within the sealed Tomb, and they both share a similar lack of confidence. In this case he won’t mind laying you on him and offering the above position to his friend, or casually joining your fun if he sees you together with Sekiya.
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baronessvonglitter · 5 months ago
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Halftime Show
Joel Miller, Javier Pena, Dave York, Frankie Morales, Marcus Moreno x f!sexworker!reader (lucky girl)
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Word count: 2.7K
Summary: you're an escort hired for a private Super Bowl party hosted by a mysterious client and his four friends
WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, reader's work name is "Angel", reader is a sex worker, mildly dubious consent (though she does state that the men can do as they want, it's her first experience in sex work), rough sex (but no violence done to reader), group sex, threesome to sixsome, oral sex (f & m receiving), unprotected p in v sex, double p in v, anal sex & fingering, multiple penetration, hand jobs, face fucking, facial, verbal abuse/humiliation, squirting, swallowing, creampie, spitroasting, reader gets slapped w/a dick for a bit, porn without plot, you know.. all the sweet stuff.
Author's Note: another cross-post from AO3 but honestly, football is barely mentioned so if you want you can ignore the whole Super Bowl aspect. Y'all might know by now I love a little romance in my smut but this particular fic has zero romance. Reader is there to do a job and leaves having done it very well. Also.. I'm considering creating a part 2 featuring more Pedro Boys, so any input on that is welcome!
FULL MASTERLIST | JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST
MARCUS MORENO MASTERLIST | FRANKIE MORALES MASTERLIST
DAVE YORK MASTERLIST | JAVIER PENA MASTERLIST
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It's your first day as an escort and you're a little nervous. Okay, a lot nervous. You never know what you're going to expect from clients, but these guys you're about to meet have been pre-screened and even had to turn in blood tests just to be considered as clients. The escort service you work for is very prestigious. You're even driven to the location by a security detail who is tasked to wait outside for you. This makes you feel a little better.
You take a quick look at your outfit before you leave the car. The rule is you show up in character and leave in character. No real names, no background stories, just a persona and an exchange of goods. Simple as that. Should be easy enough.
Taking a deep breath, you exit the car and go up to the front door.
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The doorbell rings, and Dave York springs from the sofa, a little smirk on his lips. "Guys, I think she's here," he announces, and the rest of the group look up from the Super Bowl game, groaning when Dave mutes the sound even though it's just gone to commercial.
"Who?" Frankie Morales asks, swigging a beer.
"The halftime entertainment," Dave answers mysteriously.
Marcus Moreno and Joel Miller trade inquisitive glances. Javier Peña raises his brow. He knows what Dave means.
Dave brings you into the living room and you take a quick survey of your surroundings: the home is nicer than most, two stories, decorated tastefully but with an obvious woman's touch. You give him a once-over. He's forty-ish, handsome, clean-shaven.
"The wife got the house in the divorce," Dave tells you, as if reading your mind. "This is my last weekend here, so let's make it count!" He raises his glass of whiskey to the guys, most of whom also salute with their drinks. They are all eyeing you like a pack of dogs that haven't eaten in days.
Marcus, a kind-looking man with dark eyeglasses who gives you Clark Kent vibes, smiles awkwardly at you, blushing. "Aren't you going to introduce us?" he asks Dave politely.
"Angel," you give your working name, smiling at each of the men. They're all cute: some scruffy, some dapper.
Dave smirks. "I'm Dave, and these are my buddies Marcus, Frankie, Joel, and Javier." Each of the guys smiles or nods at you as they're introduced.
"I heard you guys are looking to get wild," you say, opening your winter coat to reveal your see-through lingerie. Joel, Javier, and Dave whoop in excitement. Marcus and Frankie are more reticent but can't take their eyes off you. "What do you plan on doing with little ol' me?" you ask innocently, kneeling on the cushioned ottoman in the middle of the living room. You glide your hands over your body and smile as the men shift in their seats, watching you, getting hard already at the idea of you offering yourself.
Dave is the first to put his hands on you, first on your hips then grabbing your ass. Joel, an older man with graying hair and green flannel shirt, interrupts him, rising from his seat. "Now, who told you you get to go first?" he asks in a deep voiced Texan accent.
"First? We're running a train on this girl?" Javier asks from his seat, a cigarette burning between his lips. He's dressed like someone from the 1970s but his clothes fit him well, accentuating a lean physique.
"You can do whatever you want with me," you tell them with confidence. "But of course, no hitting, no biting, no leaving marks." You are resolute on this, as is your employer.
"Hell, darlin', we're not monsters," Joel says, his eyes full of concern for you. The others chime in that they aren't into really rough stuff. Only Dave looks a little disappointed by your rule.
"I'd expect you to be more methodical about this," Javier tells Dave, rising from his seat and casting an amused glance at his friend. He eyes you up and down then reaches into your bra to cup your breast while his other hand dives between your thighs. "Christ, she's already wet. And so fucking tight. You haven't been doing this kind of work long, have you, baby?"
"You all are my first clients," you admit, your breath hitching as his thick fingers tease you.
Javier manages a small smile then looks over at the group. "You haven't thought about these guys," he tells Dave, and nods at Frankie and Marcus. "They're completely baffled by this."
"We're not, I know exactly what's going on," insists Frankie, an adorable middle-aged guy wearing a t-shirt, cargo pants and baseball cap. His innocence is palpable and quite touching.
Dave and Javier's hands are still on you, grabbing and groping. It's a good start. "I'm paying for her. I should get to go first," Dave complains.
A few of the guys (well, okay, Javier and Dave) start to bicker about it, fueled by testosterone and alcohol. Joel strides up to you, effectively taking you away from Dave and Javier. "It's kind of a shame that no one's puttin' her feelings into consideration. She's gonna be providin' a huge service for us. Least we can do is give her a little pleasure beforehand." With that, he takes you and places you on the ottoman, kneeling between your open thighs. He rips open the crotch of your lingerie and dives in, sucking on your pussy. Your initial shock gives way to thrill as you register the warm, wet stiffness of his tongue rasping your folds, your clit, not taking his time about it. Your fingers curl into his hair as you lift your thighs back. You're still on the clock, still giving a show, even if this part is currently for your benefit. With Joel's aid you manage to take the now-ruined lingerie off and are naked but for your knee-high stockings.
"Way to get the party started," Javier says approvingly. "I'm not about to waste any time." He goes to you and sits you up. You take a moment to admire the bulge in those tight trousers before he pulls them down enough to take out his thick shaft. You obediently open your mouth to accept it and he slowly moves into your throat, allowing you to get used to him. Saliva pools in your mouth as you start to moan around his dick, still exhilarated by Joel's ravishing you with his tongue. You feel a hand massaging your breast and look over to see Frankie, his puppy dog eyes wide with wonder, as if he can't believe you're real.
"That feels so good," you tell him, sensing he likes praise. He lights up, encouraged by you, and continues to pinch and pull at your nipple before sucking on it, extracting a pleasured moan from your lips before you go back to sucking off Javier.
Marcus and Dave stand back. Marcus looks flustered and Dave has his hands on his hips, making a face. He's figuring out where to squeeze in but at the same time doesn't want to share.
Meanwhile you're keeping busy with Javier's cock in your mouth, Frankie's mouth on your breast, and Joel still lapping at you between your thighs. The most exquisite feelings comes over you and your scream is muffled as you come so hard, your body spasming while surrounded by these men. It's the most sensually charged moment of your entire life.
Joel lifts himself up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "She's wetter'n a cucumber in a convent," he chuckles, standing and trying to get the feeling back in his knees. Frankie then moves down to finger you just as Javier is on the verge of coming. Just as he gives a strangled growl, spilling his cum into your willing throat, you feel one of Frankie's fingers in your ass. You gasp and clench around him as Dave takes Javier's place. Your body is buzzing with energy, with lust.
"You're gonna earn every penny," Dave growls, thrusting into your mouth as if he hates you. You don't have a gag reflex but you pretend to choke on him, bringing tears to your eyes.
Frankie starts to undo his pants then quickly steps away. "I'm, uh, not ready yet."
"Let her take care of it," Javier says, lighting up another cigarette.
"No smoking in here," Dave warns, his eyes still on the mascara running down your face.
"Fuck you."
You start stroking Frankie, smiling at the plumpness of his cock, uncut. He's gazing down at you with tenderness in his eyes.
"Marcus, you joinin' us?" Joel asks, getting ready to pull down his jeans.
Marcus watches from the adjoining kitchen, his beer growing warm in his hand. "Maybe.. in a bit." He smiles nervously.
Joel shrugs and unzips himself, releasing his thick, veiny cock. It's all you can do not to stare at it in wonder.
"Hey, I was gonna go first," Dave says aggressively.
"You snooze you lose. Aren't we all gonna get a turn?" Joel smirks before aligning himself to your opening. "Such a tiny, perfect little pussy.. you're gonna be completely wrecked when we're done with you, babygirl..."
Your eyes widen when he begins to slide into you, but you're already slick enough to take him. You remove Dave from your mouth so you can watch Joel's cock disappear inch by inch into your cunt.
"Don't forget about me," Dave warns you, tapping his dick against the side of your face. You compliantly return to sucking him off and he grunts contentedly in response. At the same time Joel pushes in to the hilt. "Hell she's taking every inch of me," he groans. "What a good little slut she is.."
"Well shit, don't stretch her out before the rest of us," Dave complains.
"That's not a particular worry of mine," Javier smirks, getting himself ready again as he goes to your free hand, opposite Frankie, who is already hard and ready. Joel is building up a nice tempo, sliding deep inside your pussy, Dave thrusts avidly into your mouth, Frankie and Joel are watching you as you zealously prime them for whatever they want to do next.
"Oh my god!" Frankie's eyes go wide and without warning he comes on your stomach and you make a sound of surprise when you feel the warm stickiness of him on your skin. "I'm sorry," he mumbles.
"Don't be," you tell him with a smile. "Think you've got another one in you?" you wink and scoop his cum into your mouth as Frankie watches in wonder.
Dave seems upset that you keep removing him from your mouth to talk to Frankie, but Frankie looks so happy that you're not grossed out or upset. Dave grabs hold of the back of your head and rams himself in your throat. "Less talking, bitch," he growls.
You would give him a death glare but then you feel Joel speeding up, his thrusts strong, the loud slapping of your flesh fills the air. Before you know it you're throbbing around him, milking him as you feel him finish inside you. He doesn't stay long, and soon Javier takes his place. "Flip over, cariño," he says, moving you on all fours. Dave takes over from the front, Frankie strokes himself while fondling your tit. Javier grabs your ass and slides in, letting you feel every inch of him as you moan around Dave's cock. He cums soon, spraying the back of your throat with his thick white cum.
"Get in there, Frankie!" Javier encourages, pumping away none too gently as he watches your ass ripple with each thrust. "Marcus get over here and do something or you'll miss out!"
Marcus seems frozen to his spot but Frankie follows orders and you open wide to receive him. He looks down at you like you're some kind of miracle, and you make sure to look at him the same way, charmed by his good nature.
Javier leans close to you. "I'm gonna put it in your ass, cariño."
"Do whatever you want," you purr.
He pulls out of you and you feel a warm glob of saliva at your rear entrance. Javier smears it around your puckered hole and eases himself in. You gasp, fists clenching the edge of the ottoman. "Fill all her holes, boys," Dave says, watching from the side. "That's what she's here for."
Frankie pulls away from your mouth. "Let me get under you." he says, and Javier pulls out enough for you two to get positioned. Frankie aligns himself at your entrance and sinks in easily. "Jesus, you feel so good, Angel.." He thrusts up into you as Javier continues to fuck your ass. The three of you are a fusion of lust and frenzy. Joel watches, running his tongue over his lips, still tasting your sweet essence. Dave tells everyone he's next to claim your ass. Marcus has since inched closer, undeciding yet if he's going to join, or how. He's obviously hard, his eyes dark with craving.
"Marcus," you mumble as he approaches your side. "Fuck my mouth," you beg.
He suppresses a gasp but he unbuckles his belt. "I haven't.. in a while.."
"That's okay.." you smile at him, helping him pull down his pants and briefs, running your nails over his solid girth, and he immediately rises to the occasion. "You were shy before, but not now," you notice, and give his cock a couple of gentle tugs before taking him into your waiting mouth, just the tip, and letting him go in as deep as he wants.
Javier speeds up, fingers digging into your hips as all your cries fill the room. He comes, filling your ass as he grunts savagely, causing you in turn to come, clenching around Frankie who buries himself deep inside as he lets go. Once Javier pulls away Dave takes over, gripping your hips and moving you against him.
You finger your lonely pussy, unable to make yourself feel as good as any of these men have. “Oh god, I want all of you at once.. please!” You beg.
Marcus approaches you and lays beneath you as Dave moves away, scoots up so he’s practically standing over you. Joel claims your mouth and Javier lets you pump him with your fist. Frankie approaches from behind and at the same time Marcus enters you from beneath. Two men fuck your cunt, stretching you, ruining you, and all you can do is give them what they want and then ask for more.. one man in your mouth, in your hand, in your ass.. you are working for every penny just as Dave said.
You're practically dazed by the countless feelings of pleasure coming from every man inside you, the way they move, the way they taste, how their hands grope your ass or your breasts, your hips.. you're just a receptacle for them, a plaything. This allows your brain to soak everything in without having to think. Just feeling. None of them really care about your pleasure, not at this point. You're just a means to an end, and you like it. You've never felt more alive.
"God!" you gasp as you feel yet another wave of absolute euphoria threaten to take you under. You don't even bother to hold back. As soon as you come you feel them all come with you, like tiny explosions set off in a chain. You gulp down Joel's spunk as Dave spills himself inside your ass, and Marcus and Frankie throb then release, one only seconds after the other. Javier takes control of himself from you and spurts his cum onto your face. For the first time ever in your life, you squirt, gasping at the relief and suddenness of it. The six of you try hard to catch your breath, all of you taking in the moments of this night.
"I don't think I'll be able to cum for weeks," Joel says, chuckling as he pulls up his pants.
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Showered and dressed, you leave in a skimpy outfit that covers more than the lingerie did, as Dave uses the escort agency's app to send you a very generous tip from himself and the rest of the guys. The guys, cleaned up and all in relaxed moods, watch the game, not even upset that they missed most of the second half. You take your money and leave, blowing a kiss to the guys.
"God damn, you hired a good one," Javier mutters to Dave.
"Let's make this an annual thing," Dave smirks. "Next one's on you, Peña."
dividers by @saradika-graphics 👑
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starsthewitch · 23 days ago
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Star’s Aphrodite beginners guide to worship 🐚💕
Who is Aphrodite?
Aphrodite is the goddess of love, sex, beauty, seduction, and war. She is most commonly known for her immense beauty and her many associations with sex.
What are some things she is associated with?
Doves
Flowers like roses
The colors pink, red, blue, green, white, and gold
Crystals like rose quartz, clear quartz, pearls, diamonds, sapphires, amethyst, rubies, moonstones, and aquamarines
Incense that smells of rose, cinnamon, myrrh, frankincense, vanilla, and jasmine
Her tarot cards, The Lovers, The Empress, and The Star
What can I give to her as offerings?
Shells or shell imagery
Ocean imagery
Swan and dove imagery
Heart imagery
Valentine's day gifts like chocolates
Imagery/paintings that depict her
Roses or rose imagery
Doing skincare for her
Perfumes or colognes
Hairbrushes
Mirrors
Doing your makeup
Moonwater
Strawberries, apples,and raspberries
Devotional acts or things you can do in her honor
Giving compliments to people
Collecting things you find pretty
Wearing jewelry you've offered or devoted to her
Watch or read romantic material
Self-love
Masturbation (if comfortable in doing so)
Sex (if comfortable in doing so)
Wear perfume dedicated to her
Spend time with loved ones
Create a digital altar (these can be done on Pinterest)
Write poetry about her
Write a letter to her
Create or listen to a playlist dedicated to her
Talk to her (tarot cards, dice, pendulum, and other forms of divination work just fine)
What is it like working with her?
When it comes to Aphrodite, in myth, she was often known as a wrathful and jealous goddess. However, since the myths are just stories and are known to exaggerate some details, this isn’t usually the case.
However, when people mention to others that they are interested in working with Aphrodite, they usually say that you absolutely should not. That she is needy, requires a lot of attention and offerings, that if you don’t do what she says, she will take your beauty away.
This is also not the case.
In my experience as an Aphrodite worshipper, she is very loving, along with being insanely passionate. Also being very vocal about her needs and wants.
Often getting signs from her isn’t at all uncommon. I remember the first few weeks I started working with her, I got an image on my feed that had these two eels intertwined together in a heart shape.
You will often feel connected to sea life, the sea in general, wanting to do things for yourself like dressing nicer and wanting to take care of yourself more.
Here are some things I’ve experienced in my time in working with her.
When I first started praying to her, I stuttered and fumbled over my words. A lot. I was oddly nervous about it? I’m not the type to stutter and fumble often. But beginning to feel nervous and even embarrassed in the presence of the goddess of love? Very normal.
She often enjoys getting milk and dark chocolate, along with roses or any kind of flower, real or not. I gave her chocolates, a fake rose, and a real flower for valentines day and she was insanely happy with it. So much so that her candle rested in a heart shape for a short while.
I often saw butterflies, a symbol of Aphrodite.
I often feel inclined to go to the beach, collect seashells, and do things that make me feel good.
I feel more comfortable expressing love. Before, I was never the type to use pet names for people, especially for friends. But i’ve noticed that I now call people sweet and endearing names. Honeybun, sweet pea, boo, sweetie/sweetness, and babes are things i’ve been saying lately.
She is very honest, often not sugarcoating things. I asked her when my ex first asked me out if we’d last. She said no and gave me explicit reasons as to why. Though I still went out and dated them anyway, and it pretty much ended in the way she said.
She very much enjoys art work of her. I’ve drawn her a few times, asking her to guide my hand in doing so.
Whenever I feel unattractive or hate something about my appearance, she usually makes someone compliment me that day or that week. I was having an off day with my hair, and in that same hour, a girl walked up to me and said that she loved my hair and the style it was in.
That is it for my beginners Aphrodite worship guide! I will be doing these for the other two deities I work with, Apollo and Freyja.
I do hope these were helpful. If you have any questions or need assistance with anything, my ask box and my dms are always open. So be sure to shoot me a message!
Much love to you. <3
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animasolaoriginal · 4 months ago
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I n f a t u a t e d ♦️ONE
CHAPTER ONE TWO◾THREE◾FOUR◾FIVE SIX◾SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE◾️TEN ELEVEN◾️TWELVE◾️THIRTEEN◾FOURTEEN◾FIFTEEN SIXTEEN◾SEVENTEEN
A chance encounter under the strobe light. Hips swaying to the thumping bass. Dark eyes following her every move. Gazes meeting through the crowd. She came to him. He took her away. Changing her life forever, guiding her into submission.
ruthless nightclub owner ❌ innocent young woman with a crush
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WARNING: NSFW! Explicit sexual content. Age gap. Size difference. Noncon/dubcon elements. Roofies. Abduction. Dom/sub dynamic. (For more tags, check it on AO3!) // WORDS: 3.9k
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A/N: Please remember: This is fiction! As much as I enjoy writing fucked-up characters, this is not real. I do not condone this behavior! Men, be nicer to women! Girls, always check your drinks! Be mindful of strangers, no matter how nice they seem and how hot they look. And be careful what you wish for! So, technically this is a modern AU of my original story Innocence Lost, picks up on some themes, but it's basically just a fucked-up man abducting a girl (it's not stated in the beginning, but she's over 18!) and having fun with her (and then things may escalate a little!). Be mindful of the tags! This may be my darkest piece yet. (Dead dove, do not eat, as they say, right?) Also pretty self-indulgent, but there is some plot between all the filthy smut that is to come, I swear. > There are no names, no physical descriptions other than a size and age difference, so you can imagine any character here! <
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ONE 🟥 TWO
Innocent.
She's been innocent, the sweetest little thing he's ever seen. Laughing with her friends, oblivious to her own beauty, blind to the leering stares of every single male around her. And he's been one of them, staring, watching her, looking her up and down as she moved her fragile little body to the beat of the thumping bass, motions contorted and jerky in the strobe light, hair swinging, hips shaking, lips curling into happy smiles.
So innocent.
Probably just a mask, an act. Or maybe she's really been as pure as she looked back then, he'll never know. Because as soon as he's laid his eyes on her, she's been corrupted, tainted by his dark desires. He wanted to corrupt her, ruin her, and he always got what he wanted. He lured her in, kept watching her until she noticed his stares, the darkness in his gaze, the hunger within him. And she came to him, drawn to his mystique, his persistence.
Curious little thing, clueless to the monsters around her.
He smiles at her, rakes his eyes over her body, over that outfit she chose to impress without realizing what might happen, whose attention she might attract. The tight top, squishing those small breasts (pert little nipples standing proud under the shifting breeze of the AC), showing off the flat of her stomach, the flutter of her belly after she's danced her heart out, chest heaving, sweat on her brow, beads rolling down her pale, untouched skin. Slim naked arms holding the drink between her fingers, the soft rattle of cheap jewelry on her wrists, around her neck.
Girly, cute, pure.
And that skirt, mid-thigh, tame when she's standing still, scandalous when she's moving, the fabric flowing around her legs, bending down (bending over), accidentally showing off those cute little panties beneath. Giggling when she realizes her mistake, small hands trying to cover up, but people already saw, and she's aware. She's been aware he saw everything of her. Eager eyes, big and fucking innocent, following his every move.
He takes the drink from her, stares down at her, no longer smiling, and she looks up, chin tilted, so tiny in front of him, innocent, expectant, excited. Putting the glass down, he grabs her wrist, frail cheap jewelry bending under his grip. For a small moment she's hesitant, notices the strength in his fingers, the determination behind the gesture. But she still follows him as he pulls her away from the bar, into the shadows.
How do you break an innocent girl? Show her what's what? What may happen if she steps into the lion's den wearing that skimpy top and maybe-scandalous skirt? So naive. Swinging her hips to the blasting music, bouncing those tiny tits, laughing like nothing else matters, enjoying herself. A little light in the moving darkness. A light he wants to savor before he'll let her burn out.
If she'd be any other girl, he'd have her pinned to the wall, skirt flipped up, panties ripped down, his belt open in seconds before he'd sink his cock into her tight little cunt, to ravage her, ruin her, use her like she's supposed to be used. But she's too pure to be railed against a wall, in the dimly-lit club, for everyone to see.
He still pushes her against the wall, inhaling that little gasp she issues when she hits it, looking up at him, lips parted, eyes wide, gaze blurry, pupils already dilated, the thrill of the encounter and adrenaline of the night (and possibly some drinks she was mysteriously gifted) pumping through her body. Grabbing her face with his big hands, he holds her firmly when he leans closer, takes his time, gives her time to push him away (what a rare treat, girl), but she just stands there, looking at him, a little glint in her eyes, her lips curving up ever so slightly.
She wants this.
And he gives it to her. His lips meet hers, one hand holds her cheek, thumb guiding her chin, while the other hand slips into her hair, fisting it, a tight grip to hold her as he kisses her, a soft beginning, quickly turning rougher, more hungry, desperate. And she kisses him back in the same way, mirrors his motions perfectly. Such a quick learner. Their tongues slide against each other before he pushes deeper, tastes the inside of her mouth, that sweet taste, of some sugary drink and her, so much of her, and it's intoxicating.
So sweet. Innocence oozing from every pore.
He cages her in, pushes her against the wall, feet on either side of hers, knees around her legs, and she's that tiny thing in front of him, standing there, kissing him back, but her body seems frozen, hands at her sides, immobile. Petrified? A doe-eyed thing caught in the headlights? Not for long. His hand moves down to her waist, fingers digging into soft skin, warm and smooth, slipping up under the hem of her shirt, teasing at the little mound beneath.
No bra. Too innocent (and small) to need one.
Her hand comes up then, closing around his wrist, but she's not pulling him away, she's pushing his hand higher until his rough palm closes around her breast. Tiny tits, usually not his preference, but it's cute, that little squishy flesh under his big hand, warm and soft, and the longer he kneads it, the harder her nipple pokes into his palm.
And then she moans into his mouth. His eyelids flutter, and he stares at her, lips hovering over hers, heavy breaths mingling, head spinning, the tension in his stomach making it so hard to keep his composure, to stick to his decision to spare her his usual treatment. He gropes her small tit once more before he pulls his hand back, sliding it down her side, watching her closely.
He grabs her ass cheek harder than intended and leans in to capture her mouth when she yelps quietly in response, swallowing her noises, the thump of the music vibrating through his tense body. In his mind he's already ripped her clothes off, run his hands all over her smooth, untouched skin, fingers pinching her nipples, teasing between her legs, slipping deeper, into her tight innocent warmth –
A grunt escapes him. She's gripping the front of his shirt, her small hands clinging to him while she kisses him back, eagerly, completely lost in the unexpected encounter. Eyes closed, humming against him, body inching closer, searching for his warmth. The hand on her ass pulls her against him, a little thud that makes her mewl into his mouth, before it slips lower, cups her rear, pushes her up, fingers brushing against that little damp piece of fabric, and it's enough to make him hoist her up onto his hip.
Her hands claw at the collar of his shirt while her legs wrap around him almost automatically, conditioned, programmed to submit. A deep-rooted thing she isn't aware of yet. Her pelvis presses into his hipbone as he balances her, back pressed to the wall, both of his hands now on her plump cheeks, holding, groping. He can feel her warmth, that hint of wetness, arousal she's probably confused by.
“I'm gonna take you with me,” he rasps into her neck as he leans in to shower her soft skin with hungry kisses, lips closing around her fluttering pulse, sucking the blood to the surface with a determination that surprises himself.
“What?” she breathes against his cheek, a sweet little sound in his ears, so pure, a soft hum in the atmosphere.
“Don't worry about it,” he mumbles, licking over the bruise he's created on her neck. She shivers in his hold, chest moving against him. He leans back, licking his lips, meeting her curious gaze. “You need another drink,” he says with a smirk. It's not a question.
He sets her down again, grabbing her hand, leaning over to brush his lips over her temple until she looks up at him. Then his other hand is on her chin, holding her as he crashes his mouth against hers for another searing kiss. A little whimper escapes her. She's confused, he can tell, overwhelmed by whatever is happening.
Pulling her towards the bar, he nods to the barkeeper, a gesture often used. She's leaning against him, caged between his hard body and the counter, looking up at him with those big eyes. He smiles down at her, caressing her soft cheek with the back of his finger. He's got her, he knows. She doesn't even care about her friends anymore (and they seem to have forgotten about her too, he can see them dancing on the other side of the room). All she does is look at him, mesmerized.
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the bartender sliding the drinks over the counter top. He takes the prepared drink (something sugary with a special ingredient) and hands it to her, then takes the little vodka shot for himself, eyes fixed on her as he clinks the glasses together. She smiles shyly and takes a cautious sip, while he downs the shot in one go, feeling the liquid burning down his throat. The music thumps around them, the air thick and heavy with alcohol and sweat, and a tension that's just between them.
The innocent girl, sipping her drink, staring up at the man, who watches her with a predatory smirk. His hand is heavy on her hip, warm and comforting, holding her in place, thumb rubbing over her fluttering stomach. She finishes the sugary concoction and wipes her mouth, glass empty on the bar. He leans down and brushes his lips against her ear.
“Come with me,” he whispers, and she shivers, her hand finding the front of his shirt again. He steps back, his hands running along her arms until they close around her slim wrists. The bass sits low in his guts, and he can't help but move his body slightly to the music as he leads her backwards. She laughs softly, a little sway to her hips as she follows him. But they leave the dance floor and walk back into the shadows.
He watches her closely, she blinks more, eyelids heavy, lips parted, that cute little tongue out to lick them, once, twice, again, almost obsessively. He takes her to the back, past the office, the music becoming that thick beat in the distance, a deep thrum in the air, through the walls, muffled as if the world was made of cotton. He leans her against the wall, a body too easy to move by now, his hands on her shoulders as he leans down to rub his nose against hers.
“Be a good girl and stay right here,” he tells her, waiting for her to understand.
She nods slowly, licking her lips again, and he presses his mouth to hers, capturing that sweet little tongue, sucks on it, kisses her deeply, tastes the sugar and her and more. Dangerous move, but he can't help himself. He leans back, moves his lips down her jaw, along her neck, swipes his tongue in a broad stroke over that soft skin. She mewls in response, and he grins against her before leaning back.
“I'll be right back,” he says, his eyes boring into hers, making sure she does what he tells her. She nods again, biting her swollen lip.
He hasn't planned to take her, but he'll adapt, as always. It's a risky move, but he somehow knows it's going to be fine. He has an eye for these things, knows what to do if situations (opportunities) like this present themselves. Just a few calls, some more ominous nods to his employees, no problem, just a few minutes of his time to sort things out. Somewhat. He doesn't even know why he's taking her away, it just feels right. The temptation is too strong to ignore.
He shouldn't have left her.
When he returns, they are there, crowding her, two guys, frat boys probably, drunk out of their minds, slurring and stumbling, but determined to take what is now his. He's on them in no time, hand ripping them away from the frightened but still confused girl, frozen in place as hands gripped and groped her, slipping under her clothes, going places that are reserved to him.
His fist lands hard against a jaw, one of them tumbling to the floor with a howl, the other, too drunk to react, just stares at him, and he doesn't wait for him to realize what is happening. There's blood on his knuckles when the second guy goes down as well, two crumpled guys on the floor, holding their bloody faces. He grabs the girl with his left hand, carefully pulling her against him. She's swaying, legs trembling, arms wrapping around his waist helplessly.
One of the boys stirs, and he steps on his hand and kicks him back, another howl swallowed by the distant thump of the music. He takes a few steps, raps his fist against the door. A bouncer opens it, and he tilts his head towards the mess behind him. “Take care of this,” he orders, and the burly man nods, slipping into the club while he maneuvers the girl out of it.
The night is cold, semi-fresh air, but the noises are no longer muffled. The city breathes around them as he guides her to his car, parked in the back. She clings to him, barely able to function on her own anymore, eyes heavy, lips parted. He leans her against the trunk, hands holding her soft face, looks her over. She looks at him from under her lashes, too out of it to realize anything anymore. He gives her a soft kiss to her warm cheek, a little giggle escapes her.
She falls into the passenger seat, a frail little body unable to move on its own. He leans over to buckle her in, feeling her deep breaths on his chin. A short side glance shows him she has her eyes closed, chest rising and falling, head lolled to the side. His hand is on her cheek as he kisses her gently, savoring the warmth, already imagining what he could use her for. But he has to be patient.
When he rounds the car to get behind the wheel, his morals flare up, a rare occurrence, but the sight of her slumped into the seat, helpless and fucking innocent, makes him wonder how it's come to this. He's seen her dancing, in that tight top and short skirt, a laughing little light in the darkness around her. Pure. Ready to be soiled. He inhales the cold night air and slips into the driver seat, shaking his head to get rid of those damn doubts, flexing his bloodied knuckles on the steering wheel as he turns his head towards her small form.
In the end she is just another body to be used, like she should be.
They arrive at his place, and it's a blur for him to get her into the elevator, a little breathing bundle in his arms, so light and heavy at the same time. Temptation. He puts her down on the bed, watches her, how she curls up into a ball of limbs and hair, breathing softly, skirt bunched up around her hips, that sweet round butt on display, cute panties he wants to rip off her immediately. But he refrains, sighs, turns away to wash the blood off his hands.
Unbuttoning his shirt as he returns, his eyes are on her, taking in every detail. He keeps his pants on, keeps his hard erection in place for now, no matter how difficult it is to hold back. The urge to just take her is strong, push those panties aside and impale her on his thick cock. It'd be so easy. She wouldn't even feel anything, wouldn't remember a single thing. And there's the problem. He doesn't want to fuck a lifeless body, no matter how cute she looks.
He wants to see the fear in her eyes, the pain when he penetrates her, stretches her, deflowers her, possibly. Maybe even the lust growing in her pupils, that dilated look of pure bliss. Who knows, she might be into this. She followed him so willingly, she came to him, after all, approached the monster that kept staring at her. She made the first step. He just watched.
She stirs on the bed, soft little noises tumbling past her lips. He leans over her, rolls her onto her back, turns her head to the side so she won't choke on her own spit. There are other things he wants her to choke on. Later. It's almost caring how he brushes her hair out of her face, caresses her cheek, flushed and warm from sleep. Thumb finding the contours of her lips, soft and wet, pushing between them, into her mouth, searching for that sweet little tongue.
He pulls back with a deep sigh. Watching her for another moment, he decides to undress her after all. At least the skirt has to go, so he moves his hands under her body and fumbles for the zipper, then pulls it off her slim legs, nudges her shoes and socks off in the same move. He even removes her cheap jewelry, the soft clanging sounds of the thin metal filling the quiet room. She stirs slightly, smacks her lips, but doesn't wake. Not that she could, not yet. He folds the skirt and puts it on the nightstand, the sneakers he leaves under the bed, socks tucked into them, then turns his attention back to her sleeping form.
So fucking innocent in her tight top and those cute panties. A soft pink with little white bows on it. Childish almost, a girl caught in that awkward phase between adulthood and innocence, right on the verge. He doesn't know how old she is, but he trusts his bouncers to only let in girls of age. They're experts in finding fake IDs, good judges of character also. To be honest, though, it wouldn't change anything anyway. She is here now, on his bed, ready to be used, soiled, ravaged. He can't fucking wait.
But he has to, so he leans back and inhales deeply, ignoring the strain in his pants. His hands are itching to touch her, feel that warm smooth skin, pure and untouched. Almost. He can see the bruise on her neck that he worked into her. His mark. The beginning of many more, he's sure. He leans in, braced on one arm, one knee denting the mattress, his other hand tracing her jaw until he feels the little thump of her heartbeat in her jugular. His fingers curl around her neck, thumb pressed to her throat, as he stares down at her.
His mind floods with images of soft lips strained around his cock as he forces it down her throat, the tears in her eyes, the desperate grip of her fingers, trying to push him away as she struggles to breathe, spit and cum on her face, dripping down her chin, down between her tiny tits, chest heaving, throat bulging, a small body shuddering under the assault. He leans back with a groan, his stomach tensing in anticipation.
His hand trails down her side, teases those soft mounds under the top, scrapes over the hem of her panties, down her inner thigh, a little nudge and her legs open, a body to move how he wants to, so pliant. He's tempted to throw his plans overboard, the urge growing to just take her and relieve the throbbing need in his pants. His fingers are shaking as he brushes them between her legs, over the soft, slightly damp fabric of her underwear.
He can't help himself any longer, he slips a finger under the hem, feels her warm skin and the slick gathering between her soft folds. Biting his lip, he traces her slit, from the little hidden nub down to her entrance, and he can already tell she's never been touched here before, tight and pure. Maybe she's had her own little fingers in there, but she'll soon find out that it won't compare to anything he's planning to do to her.
A grunt escapes him when he pushes the tip of his finger into her hole, a little squelching sound accompanied by a little whimper. He looks up, but she's still gone, head turned to the side, drool gathering in the corner of her parted lips. He watches her as he dips his finger deeper, feels the tight grip of her cute little cunt, so warm and squishy, barely able to accommodate one of his digits. This will take some work if he wants to keep her.
He's used virgins before, broke them, ravaged them until their blood mixed with his cum, their pained screams like music in his ears, but this girl... she's too innocent to be treated like that. It's a strange feeling he's never had before. It's warm and somewhat comforting, as smooth as her tight little pussy. He pumps his finger slowly in and out, noticing the wetness gathering around it. Her mind may be clouded, but her body reacts nonetheless.
Why not start her training while she's unconscious? Might make it easier for her once she comes to. He settles next to her, pushing her panties aside more to allow his thumb to find her clit. Pumping his finger, he rubs it gently, draws tight circles around that sensitive bundle of nerves, feels it pulsing under his touch. His cock twitches against the fabric of his pants, and he grits his teeth to ignore it.
Her body shudders, little uncontrollable twitches in her thighs, her stomach fluttering, her soft breaths slightly faster as he keeps working his finger into her tight warmth. His eyes on her face, relaxed in sleep, but there's still a little twitch to her eyebrows, a little furrow, a quiet whimper falling from those plump lips. He fingers her faster, thumb pushing harder on her nub, those sweet squelching sounds making his head spin.
A tiny moan erupts from her throat, a quiet “Ah...” humming in the atmosphere, and he feels her tensing up, her walls gripping his finger, but he works it in and out still, knuckles-deep, thumb assaulting her clit. He wants to lean in and taste her so bad, but somehow he holds himself back, another trait he's new to. Instead he watches her small body convulsing under his touch, hips jerking against his hand, cunt clamping down on his digit, and when he pulls it out, her wetness seeps out of the tiny hole, trailing down to the other, dripping onto the sheets.
He inhales deeply, takes in that sweet scent of her orgasm, and wipes his hand on her inner thigh, spreading her release on her warm skin, before he leans back and brings his finger to his lips, unable to fight the urge to taste her after all. He prefers to have his face between soft thighs, drinking directly from that intoxicating fountain, but for now it'll do. His tongue laps around his fingertip, and he closes his eyes, taking her in, that sweet, sweet taste.
Before he leaves her be, he adjusts her panties and throws the blanket over her sleeping form. Then it's a short trip to the bathroom, shower turned on, clothes discarded on the floor, and he's barely in there when his right hand closes around his angrily throbbing cock.
Fuck. This girl will be a challenge. An exercise in restraint.
🟥 TWO
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End notes: So, I guess the slow burn of Innocence Lost got to me, big time. I have no idea from what dark and ugly depths I pulled this story, but it is here, at least the first 10 chapters of it, the first season if you will. (And there will be more!) I'll upload a new chapter every Monday!
I hope the tags didn't put you off too much, but if you are reading this, maybe you pulled through, and I thank you for it! Thank you for joining me on this wild ride! I appreciate you very much!
By the way, this all came to be, somehow, because I've been listening to a lot of Electric Callboy recently (strangely enough, iykyk) and their video to Hate/Love kinda brought this all down. Or at least started it all. Sometimes inspiration strucks in the weirdest forms.
Thanks again for reading! Next chapter on Monday!
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AO3 / / / MASTERLIST
CHAPTER / / / ONE◾TWO◾THREE◾FOUR◾FIVE◾
SIX◾SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE ◾️TEN
ELEVEN◾️TWELVE ◾️THIRTEEN◾FOURTEEN◾FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN
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sixosix · 1 year ago
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can you do an aether x reader lil one shot please!!! my baby gets no love ;( I'm fine with any story or plot but maybe one where they've been travel buddies for a while and his feelings have just been bottled up over time and he just explodes in to a confession and then some cute fluff from there!!!!!!
a/n wc 1.6k there are tears in my eyes as i write this i love aether sonmuch. also sorry if this is all over the place i was trying so hard not to turn it into another 10k word fic…. ft. lyney
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aether doesn’t vividly recall the moment his feelings blossomed. there was no pinpointed moment, only all of it growing restless inside him.
he likes to keep his team to four people maximum, oftentimes none at all—just him and paimon to worry about as they move from region to region, friends made yet no proper strings attached. it’s for everyone’s sake, as aether doesn’t plan on staying too long in one place. that’s how it should’ve been.
you appeared one day, demanding to take you in his team. just for liyue and then you can separate ways, you said.
“i’m visiting my awfully quiet lover to break his silence. i need to figure out why i’ve stopped receiving letters,” you explained, blinding him with your bigger-than-life personality.
and because aether is a weak, weak man to people who don’t know how to back down, he agreed, albeit hesitantly. “alright,” he said in defeat. “just liyue?”
“just liyue,” you affirmed, beaming as he’s accepted you probably easier than you expected.
just liyue is a lie, and he should’ve known it the moment he had to confirm it. he didn’t bother with formal introductions and keeping conversations, knowing he wouldn’t see you again anyway. it didn’t help that paimon adores you, expressing her loud disappointment when you have to part ways with them.
paimon floated lower than usual. aether sighed. “should’ve known you’d grow to love someone who spoils you with sweet madame more than me.”
“hmph! y/n’s nicer to paimon than you!”
but he does see you again some time later, facing a large tree, kicking it out of frustration. it’s pouring heavily; your clothes are soaked.
“am i scary?” you asked when aether and paimon approached you, staring ahead, fists trembling.
“what’s wrong?! did something bad happen?” paimon fluttered around you nervously, unsure if she could touch you.
“he’s not dead, at least,” you said bitterly. “just too cowardly to tell me that he doesn’t love me anymore. i suppose it was better breaking up face-to-face than through letters.” you sighed bitterly, shoulders hiked up to your ears as a fresh wave of quiet tears washed over you, muted by the rain. “this is embarrassing, getting dumped because i was too much.”
“it’s not. you came all the way from mondstadt just to see him. didn’t he at least care about that?” aether asked, which might’ve just been his longest sentence yet. why were you out here soaking? if it were him, he wouldn’t have been so rude to leave you astray during a thunderstorm.
“i can’t force him, if he doesn’t want to see me. i’ll be alright, i promise.” you rest your forehead against the bark of the tree, water sliding off your cheeks—aether isn’t sure if it’s the rain or your tears.
he understands, possibly more than anyone.
and aether—still a weak, weak man when it came to people breaking down in front of him, knowing what it’s like to lose someone so dear to you—gently says, “xiangling told us there’s an event holding place here later. you’re coming with us.”
just liyue was already a warning in itself that it would never be just as that.
you weave yourself in his life as if you were always there, fitting in like you haven’t met him and paimon just a few days ago. he tries to convince himself that he’s doing this to cheer you up, but you’ve been making him smile more than they do to you.
he would turn to his side and see you feeding him a chicken-mushroom skewer after a short battle, insisting even when aether says he’s not as injured as you may think. he would turn to his side and see you and paimon laughing over something he missed and find himself grinning as well.
he would turn to his side when you tug on his sleeve, shyly asking if he’s willing to take you to inazuma as well because you didn’t want to stay in liyue if they weren’t here anymore.
“sure,” aether would say. he’s a weak man, and you were holding on to his cape, looking so adorable that aether wanted to melt on the spot. but that’s a normal reaction to cute things, probably.
taking you to inazuma turns into bringing you along to sumeru, then eventually fontaine, until everyone is convinced you’re a staple in aether’s adventures: aether, paimon, and y/n.
this is what it’s like to have a good team, aether persuades himself. a good team, a useful asset, aether reminds himself sternly as you slice a ruin cruiser off of existence with fierce anger in your eyes and a stick of tricolor dango in your mouth. you wave at him after, beaming, and his heart does something weird.
and now, when some of his friends suggest that he lays you off even just for a day so he can have three other people who work together seamlessly with him, he dismisses it quickly—without thinking. he already works best with you by his side. if they want to come along with him, they have to accept they’re coming along with you just as well.
“thanks for letting me join you,” you whisper one night, lying on the grass and watching the stars with him. you turn your head and meet his eyes, smiling softly.
“of course,” aether says. of course, because now he can’t imagine what it’s like to not have you with him. “i’m the only one who can handle how scary you are.”
you scoff, gently punching his arm as he laughs. “shut up, idiot. you know what i mean.”
i know, aether wants to say. but would that be too much? aether doesn’t want you to think he’s trying to replace someone important in your life this quickly.
you are scary. you’re terrifying him with all these unwanted feelings he doesn’t know what to do with. but aether wasn’t lying, either—he can handle fear just as well.
and now, as aether watches lyney grin and kiss the back of your palm, aether’s chest burns with something unpleasant, sitting in his stomach and urging him to take action. a rock under his shoe. he does not like it, not one bit.
“uhh,” paimon shifts nervously mid-air. “paimon thinks you should stop glaring daggers into lyney before he notices.”
“glaring daggers? i’m not glaring daggers,” aether hisses. his fingers are starting to ache with how painfully he’s clutching his sword. “no daggers here…” he curses as he watches you grow increasingly flustered.
the sight startles him. not your expression, not lyney’s clear provocation, but aether’s stance towards it.
“i thought we’re friends with lyney again?” paimon asks, terribly confused.
“the best of friends,” aether says, marching over to the scene. paimon makes a disbelieving noise.
lyney smirks knowingly as aether gently tugs on your arm. “oh,” lyney says, all sly, more of a fox than a cat, “i didn’t know you were already spoken for. i do apologize for the misunderstanding.”
you glance between an amused lyney and an irked aether, dazed. “i’m not…?”
“your jealous boyfriend says otherwise,” lyney snorts as aether bristles.
aether glares heatedly at lyney, even as the latter backs away with a smug grin. “y/n, let’s go. there’s nothing else to do here.” he’s being rude. he doesn’t care. his mind is blank—or maybe it’s running miles per minute, and he struggles to keep up.
and because you always listen to aether, you let him drag you off, nearly failing to wave goodbye to a chuckling lyney. lyney calls for paimon, distracting her as aether continues walking away from the scene.
you turn to aether, barely able to keep up with his hurried steps. “whoa, whoa, hey, aether—aether, are you okay? your face is so red.” you touch his cheek, and he crumbles. “aether.”
he halts, frowning at the ground. frustrated.
“aether, is there something wrong?”
that’s the thing. aether doesn’t know what’s wrong. he was content with watching you from afar—content with your stars slowly aligning with his as he stands back and watches it happen. he was content with not doing anything about it. but not doing anything about it would mean everyone else thinks you haven’t got aether wrapped around your finger.
“sorry,” aether says. to the painful beating of his heart, restless with unexplained fury. “i didn’t—”
“…idiot.” you always tell him that. you’re the only one who calls him that, but he knows that were they to try, he wouldn’t let it slide so easily. “it’s okay to admit you’re jealous. it’s cute.”
it is not lyney’s flirtations that tip aether over; it’s the sweet smile you give him, the gentleness of your gaze, and your face so close to aether’s that you and him share the same breath. what tips him over is all of it crashing down on him, as daunting as a fight, as abrupt as the beat of his heart:
oh. oh. is that it?
aether doesn’t vividly recall the moment you wormed your way in. maybe it was the moment you jumped down from a tree branch and scared the wits out of paimon, only to demand nervously he take you. maybe it was the moment he softens when your shoulders shake and rain pours relentlessly overhead. maybe it was the stab of jealousy seeing someone else try to steal you away from him when you so obviously belong to him as he belongs to you.
it doesn’t matter.
“i want you,” aether says, then blinks when you do a startled take. “no—no. i mean. i… like you. and i want you to stay. here. not with them. not anyone else.”
“stay right in front of you?”
“in front, beside—doesn’t matter.” aether grows weak, limp as he presses his forehead against yours. “i just want you.”
“okay,” you smile, tipping your chin to kiss his cheek. his heart soars. “that’s all i needed to hear.”
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queen-of-reptiles · 9 months ago
Text
𝚂𝙸𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁
description: in which lucy bronze's younger sister is trying to hide her relationship with a fellow Barca player
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mapi leon x bronze!reader
part of the 'hidden' universe
part two here
part three here
ona batlle x putellas!reader here
disclaimer: this is all fiction do not take any of this seriously !
warnings: swearing, slightly suggestive - cuteness
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y/n grinned as she heard the front door open, two sets of footsteps bursting through the door, she focused on the Spanish omelettes she was making.
"Ah I love ya." A relieved voice sighed as Lucy wrapped herself around her younger sister, pressing multiple kissed the the smaller girl's cheek as she sniffed the smell of breakfast.
"Morning to you to Luce." y/n laughed as her sister moved to her fridge and grabbed the fresh juice she knew her little sister always made for Friday morning training.
"Morning y/n." Keira chimed, pressing her lips to the smaller girl's cheek as she chided her girlfriend in sitting on the kitchen counter.
"Lucy, feet off my counter, Kei, grab the plates would you love?" y/n asked the two and Lucy pouted as she slid off the counter.
"Why are you always nicer to her?" Lucy asked with a huff.
"Because I like her better." y/n replies, sticking her tongue out at her sister playfully as she plates up their breakfasts.
Lucy gasps dramatically, pressing a hand to her heart and the other over her forehead and Keira chuckles, used to the way the two sisters were.
"Oh shut up." y/n laughed, handing Keira her plate, the strawberry blonde responding with a kiss to y/n's cheek in thanks.
"How will I go on?" Lucy asks aloud and y/n chuckled as she held out Lucy's plate.
"This might help?" y/n questioned and Lucy grinned widely as she grabbed it.
"Perfect, thanks Junior." Lucy smiles, kissing her sister's forehead and sitting next to her girlfriend on the table, y/n sitting down last and smiling when Lucy poured her a juice.
The three ate in small talk and silence, comfortable jokes being shared occasionally with laughs of innocence as the three began to was up.
"I don't know why you live next door instead of with me and Kei though." Lucy huffs as the group pull their shoes on for training. "We give you a lift everyday, you cook for us so often, just save your money and move in with us." Lucy adds.
"Lucy, I'm not a child anymore, I like my own space." y/n tells her sister as she slides into the back seat, Keira in the passenger seat.
"You are my baby sister." Lucy claps back.
"I'm 22!" y/n shouts.
"Exactly, a little baby!" Lucy adds as they pull up outside Ona's house, the player sliding into the back seat and kissing y/n's cheek in greeting, the two best friends instantly sinking into a Spanish chat as Keira and Lucy spoke quietly.
Recently, Lucy and Keira had been insistent on picking Ona up, letting her crash with y/n all the time, not being confused when they saw the girl in the morning.
It confused y/n, usually, if someone was a bit too close to her Lucy would go full overdrive and protective sister, ever since y/n's first girlfriend broke her heart at age 20, Lucy had never quite forgiven herself for her lack of care.
Truth was, Lucy and Keira were sure Ona and y/n were together, and considering they were so sweet, Lucy wasn't overly upset at it, though she was still planning to give Ona the shovel speech.
If only Lucy realised how wrong she was.
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y/n just posted on her story
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"Come on, pleaseeeee." Ona begged, hands gripping y/n's as the Englishwoman tried to take her shirt off.
"Fine!" y/n finally called, throwing her hands in the air. Ona grinned and launched at her, thin arms wrapping around y/n's neck as she cheered in thanks.
y/n laughed, spinning the girl around as the two best friends separated and y/n quickly whipped her training shirt over her head. Her hands pulling her hair through her top.
y/n looked over, her eyes meeting slightly dark ones as the blonde tilted her head slightly. y/n gulped looking away from the defender, knowing well what that look was.
y/n stepped out into the pitch sighing in relief at the warmth that spread through her body at the light of the sun. She loved playing in Barcelona for the sun.
"Sun-cream!" Lucy's call ran out, her hands suddenly rubbing the cream into y/n's open skin, Ona laughing as y/n called out in shock of it's cold.
"It's cold!" y/n whines at Lucy who grins.
"It's safe." She denies, rubbing a last bit over her sister's cheeks, Ona still giggling as y/n huffs and squeezes some on her own hands, rubbing it over Lucy's face.
Once the Bronze siblings had stopped playing, the group was called over ready to train, as usual the groups split into pairs, y/n and Ona linking arms so they couldn't be separated.
Alexia sent them a tired sigh, but nodded her head, letting them be together for the strength training section before their mini game before lunch.
Ona and y/n bounced well off another as usual, their passes perfect and tackles easy as they worked hard to prove that they still deserved their starting places.
Eventually they sunk into a game and y/n found herself being marked by a familiar blonde who followed her every movement easily. As Caroline prepared to launch a corner in, the defender's hands placed themselves on y/n's hips.
"Amor." The voice purred quietly, squeezing the flesh on them as y/n pushed her body back against the slightly taller woman. There is a feeling of a grin into y/n's shoulder and she huffs.
Caroline raises her hand up and steps back, y/n pushes against her lover once more before running at the ball coming towards the group. y/n jumps, her head pushing it past Cata and into the goal.
"OOOOOOOH!" Lucy screams for her sister as the Bronze sister's jump in mock excitement, laughing at each other as they do so. The group around them laughing as they were used to them.
"Lo siento." y/n winked at Mapi, the blonde chuckling back as she pretended to try and grab her. y/n shrieked and jumped away, training being called to an end which meant Mapi continued to chase her.
y/n shrieked again, jumping toward Aitana who yelled and shoved her away, knowing how stubborn Mapi could be when she was in the mood to chase.
"Traitor!" y/n called out as Aitana blew her a kiss. Mapi was gaining on y/n, and the Englishwoman shrieked again, jumping at her sister's back.
Lucy caught her easily, turning to face Mapi with a steely glare, the blonde defender huffed and slunk back, glaring at y/n once more before Lucy hisses.
y/n grins when Mapi walks away and kisses her sister's cheek in thanks. Lucy chuckles and lets her sister off her back as the group go to lunch.
Ona links her arms with y/n, the two beginning to talk loudly as they grab their lunch and sit down. Alexia and Mapi move over as well, the latter sitting next to y/n as the two join in on the conversation easily.
y/n had always been good at languages, Spanish was her fifth language now, English, French, German, Portuguese and Spanish, her sister's was also good with them, but hadn't taken to Spanish quite like y/n had.
Mapi's thigh pushed against her own as Keira and Lucy also migrated over, y/n look over to the defender who just continued to talk with Ona, ignoring the way their skin pressed against each other.
y/n smiled at her sister who sat down, not noticing the way Keira's eyes ran down to where y/n and Mapi's legs were pressed tightly against each other.
Keira didn't think too much of it, knowing Spanish people were overly touchy and loving with their friends, but she did think about the look she saw the two share as they talked quietly.
After lunch the group moved to the gym, Mapi and y/n pairing up for strength training as they began to stretch before their work out. y/n hissed at a knot in her shoulder.
"You okay?" Mapi asked y/n, the girl nodding as she stood up.
"Yeah just my shoulder's tight." y/n promised, Mapi sighing as she walked behind her, thumbs digging into the shoulder as she began to put tight pressurised circles into the joint.
y/n groaned in relief, head falling back against Mapi's shoulder. The woman chuckled and continued her actions loosening the shoulder joint with her fingers.
"Tus dedos son magicos amor." y/n sighed to Mapi.
your fingers are magic love
"Las dos sabemos que ya sabías eso." Mapi said quietly into y/n's ear, the Englishwoman rewarding her with a sharp elbow to the gut.
we both know you already knew that.
The two then moved to train and with shared smiles and giggly jokes nothing to anyone seemed out of place, other than Keira who watched with furrowed brows.
Eventually training was called to an end for the day and the group all sighed in relief and trudged slowly into the changing rooms to shower.
Lucy and y/n stayed close chatting away as they changed and y/n opened her locker, noticing a piece of paper laying in the locker, the familiar writing looking at her.
mine @ 7pm?
y/n smiled softly, shoving the note in her bag so her sister didn't see as she shut her locker and turned, noticing Lucy was too busy talking to Patri to notice her.
y/n looked across the room and her eyes met Mapi's, y/n nodding softy, trying to bite back the smile she wanted to wear. The woman smiles softly at the ground before y/n turns back to face Ona.
"Eres obvio, los dos." Ona scoffs in a whisper.
you are obvious, both of you.
y/n shushes her, grateful Lucy was still distracted. Ona was the only one to know mainly because y/n used the excuse she was staying at Ona's too many times when she was actually at Mapi's.
"Come on kiddo." Lucy says, wrapping an arm around her sister as Keira grabs their car keys.
"I'm 22." y/n reminds and Lucy scoffs.
"I don't care." She chimes as she gestures for Ona to follow, the Spaniard looping her arm around y/n's and pulling her quickly toward the car.
"You can drop us off at mine Lucy. y/n is staying with me tonight." Ona says and Lucy nods.
"Sure, you need any clothes kiddo?" Lucy asks her sister who shakes her head.
"Na, Ma- Ona has some of mine." y/n says, Ona choking on her drink at the slip up of names. y/n sends her a glare that begs her to be calm.
"Okay sure!" Lucy hums, y/n sighs thinking she'd escaped but as she turns to get in the car her eyes meet Keira's, she as watching her with a raised eyebrow and y/n wants to swear.
Keira was always to investigative for her own good, she knew y/n too well and could notice the tiniest slip ups she did and once again Keira had caught her before she caught herself.
Ignoring Keira y/n slipped into the back of the car and started talking with Ona about anything they could think about to try and dull Keira's burning eyes.
Eventually they pulled up outside Ona's apartment and y/n leaned forward quickly and pecked her sister's cheek in thanks as Ona got out and grabbed their kit bags.
"Love you both." y/n says.
"Be on time tomorrow!" Lucy warns and y/n nods as she and Ona quickly rush into her apartment complex and quickly inside her apartment.
"Shit, did you see?" y/n asks Ona as the girl watches Lucy's car pull away.
"Keira notice your trip up?" Ona asks.
"Slip up. But yes." y/n nods as she flops onto Ona's sofa cursing softly under her breath.
"You will have to tell Lucy eventually." Ona sighs as she sits opposite her best friend. "I mean, 9 months is long enough, no?" Ona asks.
"Ona, Lucy is insanely protective, she always has been, and usually it is fine, but I don't want to disrupt the team because Lucy gets mad at Mapi and I." y/n sighs.
"Okay." Ona says simply.
"And 9 months isn't as bad as an entire year." y/n adds pointedly and Ona sighs, face planting her head in her hands.
"Dios mío, lo sé." Ona groans.
my god, I know
Ona also had a secret. She for the past year had been dating Alexia's youngest sister, Alba being the middle child. Alexia's younger sister had developed the nickname of baby Putellas and most of the team called her baby.
Strangely enough, the girl was a well known actress and at 22 had an oscar, golden globe and 2 BAFTA's under her very developed belt, y/n always joked with Ona that she guessed the Putellas sisters were meant to be stars.
However, Ona and her had been dating for the past year, having met while Ona was at Manchester Utd, while the actress was filming in Manchester for several months.
Their relationship blossomed and as soon as Ona got her call up for the national team, the first thing the best friends did was discuss how they would hide the relationship.
Now a year into her relationship, Ona was really regretting hiding it, and she knew her lover did to. The entire team knew her well and she was close with them all, however the first time they met her Alexia had given a warning.
"Ella está fuera de los límites. ¡Ella es mi hermanita!"
She is off limits. She is my baby sister!
If only she knew then that Ona was already with her. But she didn't and she still didn't and now Ona feared what would happen once she did know.
"If Alexia ever found out, well, we all know how protective she is of both her and Alba." Ona sighs.
"We're both fucked." y/n sighs.
"Completely fucked." Ona agrees and both girls groan before flinging themselves opposite ways onto the couch.
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onabattle just posted on her story x2
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y/n just posted on her story times x2
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y/n let herself into Mapi's apartment with her key, the clock just hitting seven as she did so. After she and Ona had talked, they both then took a shower and y/n changed into her spare clothes before pecking Ona on the cheek.
Ona promised to pick her up the next day, so Lucy didn't suspect anything and y/n then made her way through Barcelona and toward Mapi's, which she had just gotten into.
"Baby, I'm in." y/n called, the sound of feet padding across the floor making y/n smiled as the familiar black fur of Bagheera wrapped around her ankles. "Hi little one." y/n grinned.
The girl leant down and stroked the cat softly, Bagheera purring in response to the affection. y/n chuckled before she realised Mapi had yet to answer her.
"Amor?" y/n called out, wandering further into the kitchen and living where she dropped her keys to the floor. "Shit." y/n swore.
Mapi was stood, eyes wide and hand on her forehead, looking like a kid who had their hands caught in the cookie jar, her phone was in the kitchen and she looked apologetically toward y/n.
However, y/n wasn't focussed on her girlfriend in that moment, she was more focused, on her captain sat on the sofa, looking between the two with eyes just as wide.
"What? You two?" Alexia stuttered out, her English broken and Mapi and y/n looked toward each other for a moment before both rushing out the same exact sentence in their native tongues.
"You can't tell Lucy."
"No puedes decirle a Lucía."
Alexia paused for a moment, her mouth opening and closing in shock as she tried to think about the situation for a moment.
"How long has this been... happening?" Alexia asks, trying hard to keep her voice as calm as possible.
Mapi and y/n looked over at one another, fear deep in their hearts at the fact they had done so well at keeping it quiet, at hiding, that the fact their captain knew was heart-stopping.
"9 months." y/n begins, fiddling with her fingers.
"Ay, dios mío!" Alexia breathes.
oh my god.
"And Lucia? Has not been known?" Alexia continues asking, her voice now an eerily calm tone.
"No." Mapi denies and the answer is all it takes for Alexia's eyes to harden.
"Por qué?" She asks, though it sounds more like a demand as she jumps to her feet.
why?
"Because she's insanely protective Ale!" y/n defends. "Do you remember what happened that night we went out and that girl was eyeing me up?" She asks her captain.
"I thought she would become flames with the way Lucia was glaring." Alexia muses and y/n nods.
"It gets so much worse if I'm actually interested." y/n warns. "Look, we didn't mean to hide it for so long, but it just was so nice just us so we did!" y/n defends.
"Lucia will be so upset once she knows." Alexia states. "I cannot keep this from her for long." She adds and y/n groans.
"Alexia please." She begs her friend, but Alexia shakes her head. "If Lucy finds out this is gonna fuck the entire team Alexia, she won't just kill me, but Mapi and Ona!" y/n tried.
"Ona knows?!" Alexia asks and y/n sighs and Alexia rolls her eyes. "Of course Ona knows." She adds.
"Ale, por favor, just give us some time to figure out this." Mapi says to Alexia who sighs running a hand over her face.
y/n could see Alexia's thoughts running wild, the cogs in her mind turning as she tried to figure out what was the best option to do and go with.
y/n felt as if her chest had caved in, as if the world had suddenly been sucked of all its air, because she could no longer breathe, she could only worry.
"One week!" Alexia finally says. "One week and then I tell Lucia." She repeats before she moves to the door.
y/n tucked her head to her chest, trying very hard to stop the world from spinning and her lungs from starving themselves of air. Alexia says something to Mapi before she is out the door, shutting it quietly.
"Mi bebe?" Mapi says softly, tilting y/n's head up to see her tear-filled eyes and small rapid breaths. "Breathe, come on breathe." Mapi says quietly, pulling y/n to the sofa and onto her lap.
y/n falls forward, burying her head into Mapi's chest, moving her head until she can find the defender's heartbeat echoing in her ear, the pace of it calming her.
After several moments of y/n listening to Mapi's heart and the defender's hands moving up and down her back calmingly, y/n sniffles and sits up.
"We've really messed up here Maps." y/n says quietly and the woman sighs, leaning forward and capturing y/n's lips with her own, their breaths swapping as they sunk into each other.
"It was going to happen, princesa." Mapi sighs. "I will brave the world, I will brave the media, I will even brave Lucia Bronze for you, mi amor." Mapi promises.
y/n giggles despite herself, letting her hand come up to meet Mapi's jawline so she can rub her thumb across the defender's cheek, Mapi leaning into the loving hold.
"She's going to be terrible. Awful." y/n warns Mapi. "To me and to you." She adds.
"I know how much you love her, how close you are. I know how much this is going to hurt." Mapi promises her girlfriend who sighs and sinks forward.
"I love her, but I've never felt like this before." y/n admits and Mapi smiles into her hair.
"I have never felt like this either mi amor." Mapi promises.
"We'll do it together, won't we?" y/n asks her.
"Together, in two days." Mapi nods and y/n smiles softly, pressing her lips against Mapi's once more.
"In two days, we'll tell her." y/n agrees.
In two days. They did not.
°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。
Today was supposed to be the day that Mapi and y/n told Lucy, they had promised themselves it. But as training neared to an end, both Mapi and y/n knew they weren't going to do it.
y/n had felt almost faded all day, as if she was in a fog as she tried to figure out what to do. Alexia had hardly spoken to her, Ona had noticed something was wrong and once she'd been told she was just as worried.
After showering, y/n followed Ona out, Mapi following close behind, Lucy and Keira had drove on their own today, y/n and Mapi getting there together as well as Ona on her own, though Keira and Lucy thought y/n had drove in with the latter.
y/n thought Keira had dropped her curiosity, so she didn't bother to look behind her as she hugged Ona goodbye and Mapi took her hand leading y/n to her car.
Keira's eyes widened as she watched y/n drive off with Mapi, Ona in the other way in her own car. She gulped and turned to see her girlfriend walking out, talking to Patri.
"You ready to go babe?" Lucy asked Keira who nodded, slipping on a fake smile.
"Yeah, y/n and Ona have already gone." Keira nods and Lucy chuckles rolling her eyes.
Barely an hour later, y/n and Mapi were cuddled together on the sofa, a show on in the background as their lips continuously collided and tongues rolled together.
y/n groaned into Mapi's mouth, her thighs tightening on either side of the defender's hips as she tried not to grind. The fog in her head had lessened, the anxiety.
Mapi had a way of doing that, she could calm the worst nerves in her, the scariest nightmares with something as simple as a smile, y/n loved her, she really loved her.
Mapi's finger gripped tighter, pulling y/n closer which caused a moan to slip into Mapi's mouth from y/n's throat. Mapi grinned against her lips, kissing down y/n's neck.
y/n groaned in relief as Mapi put pressure on her neck, sucking a dark mark into the space just below the collar of her top. Using her teeth to run over it.
"Mapi." y/n whined, causing a grin to rise onto the blonde's face.
"What bebita?" Mapi asks, pressing a kiss to the column of y/n's throat.
The girl groans again, grinding against her girlfriend who just grins, watching as y/n gets little friction from her position on Mapi's lap, the defender too strong for her to move.
"If you're a good girl, and eat your dinner once it comes." Mapi begins. "I'll have you for desert. How does that sound?" She asks y/n.
y/n nods, pushing her head down to press her lips against Mapi's, letting out a needy whine as Mapi's teeth dig into her bottom lip.
"Mi buena niña"
My good girl.
Mapi's raspy compliment made y/n's cheeks flare, another breathy moan coming from her as Mapi pressed a final still kiss harshly to her lips.
Mapi pulled away, her lips plump and red from the strength and need the two had kissed with. Mapi presseed a softer kiss into y/n's lips, humming happily as they pull away.
y/n smiles softly, tucking a strand of Mapi's hair behind her ear as she went to speak, however her phone began to ring and she groaned leaning over to grab it, seeing the fact it was Keira.
"Hey Keira." y/n smiles, carefully getting off Mapi who pouts as her girlfriend stands, but understands Keira would find it weird if y/n didn't pick up.
"Hey little one, how are you?" Keira asks and y/n furrows her brows slightly.
"I'm good, what about you?" y/n asks.
"Yeah, I'm fine." Keira promises. "I wanted to talk about something with you." She begins. "Where are you?" She asks and y/n panics.
"I'm uh, at Ona's right now Kei." y/n says, getting ready to say she was busy right now.
"Really?" Keira asks.
"Yeah." y/n nods, hearing a knock at the door and realising her and Mapi's food they had ordered had arrived. "Why?" She asks as she unlocks the door.
"Because..." Keira begins, y/n opening the door. "I think you're lying to me." Keira finishes, her eyes staring into y/n's as she holds up the bag of food.
y/n's phone drops to the floor, her eyes widening in shock as it hits the floor, luckily not breaking but making a loud thump which scares Bagheera from her sleep.
"Amor? You okay?" Mapi calls, turning the corner only to pause like y/n had.
"I think you should come in Keira." y/n says, pulling Keira into the apartment and slamming the door.
Keira places the food down on the side, watching as y/n and Mapi send each other fearful looks and Keira sighs, realising what they were worried about.
"Luce thinks I'm with Tana right now." Keira promises them and they let out a breath of relief.
"Good because this isn't what it looks like." y/n begins and Keira raises an eyebrow. "Okay, it is exactly what it looks like." She admits.
"It looks like, you've been secretly dating Mapi and Ona's been covering for you." Keira says and Mapi groans.
"Bien, definitivamente es exactamente lo que parece." Mapi huffs.
Okay, it is definitely exactly what it looks like.
Keira looks at y/n, eyes not harsh, but stern as she demands y/n to translate Mapi's sentence with nothing but a look.
"Basically, you're dead on." y/n tells Keira who sighs and runs a hand over her face.
"Lucy's going to be so..." Keira begins.
"Angry at first, then protective and then upset." y/n says and Keira nods as y/n blinks tears away, biting at her lip.
"Let's go sit down amor, yes?" Mapi asks y/n who sighs and nods, grabbing their food.
Keira follows, watching as y/n and Mapi sit down, Bagheera curling next to y/n's hip as the two sink into each other and open up their noodle boxes, beginning to eat.
Keira watches, finding the small moment of domesticity sweet as she watched how easily the two fit together when doing so.
"So, how long?" Keira asks as y/n continues to eat.
"9 months." She admits and Keira closes her eyes for a moment and sighs.
"And all this time, we thought you were dating Ona?" Keira asks and Mapi's head snaps up.
"What? Why?" Mapi asks, but y/n holds her hand out to Mapi, knowing how possessive the dirty blonde often was.
"She's just my best friend Kei." y/n promises the woman who sighs. "Look, we were going to tell Lucy this week anyway." y/n adds to Keira who furrows her brows.
"Why?" She asks.
"Because Alexia found out, and said if we don't she will." Mapi explains and Keira groans again.
"This just keeps getting worse." She huffs.
"Oh we know!" y/n scoffs. "Look, Kei, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. But we know how Lucy gets. And I just, wanted to keep this." y/n sighs and Keira looks at her sadly.
"You love her Mapi?" Keira asks the defender who nods without hesitation.
"Si, I love her with all I am." Mapi promises Keira who nods.
"And munchkin?" Keira asks y/n.
"Yeah Keira, I really do love her." y/n sighs, and Keira nods.
"Okay, well, we need to figure out how to tell Lucy then. Because this is going to be hard."
°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。
END OF PART ONE
what do you think ??
-
queenie x
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dreamwritesimagines · 2 months ago
Text
The Eye of the Hurricane [34] - Cage
A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️
Summary: Lack of honesty can cause resentment.
Word Count: 2700
Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
Warnings: Violence, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship, mentions of sex. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.
Series Masterlist
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If anything, your day started out pretty calm.
You were petting Alpine with one hand while scribbling on the paper with the other, and you stole a look at Bucky when he entered the kitchen. He ran a hand through his damp hair and you inhaled the scent of his aftershave as subtly as you could, pretending to be busy with the file in front of you while he made his way to the coffee machine to fill himself a cup of coffee.
You could feel his glances on you as he leaned back on the counter, sipping his coffee but you ignored him until he cleared his throat.
“So when is that asshole leaving?”
You stopped petting Alpine and lifted your head to look at him better.
“Who, Rhett?” you asked. “He just got here.”
“Doesn’t he have a city to rule?”
“He left his right hand in his place, apparently,” you told him. “Why?”
“Just curious.”
You hummed, spinning your pen between your fingers.
“You should be nicer to him, you know.”
He scoffed into his coffee mug. “Yeah sorry, I’m not capable of being nice to dickheads who gaze at my wife longingly.”
“What?”
“I’m already being civil by not shooting him, and that’s only because you told me not to.”
“You’re not going to shoot—he doesn’t gaze at me longingly, Bucky.”
“Oh he does,” he shot back. “In fact, I bet he has a plan.”
Your frown deepened. “What plan?”
“He wants to—he wants to take you to Chicago,” he said, motioning vaguely and you tilted your head, your mouth slightly open. “Yeah, he’ll feed you some bullshit about never being over you—”
“He is very much over me.”
“And he will ask you to go rule Chicago with him, and then I’ll shoot him and feed his fucking body to the dogs—”
“Can I just interrupt that very creative theory with some truth?” you asked him as Alpine jumped from the counter to the floor. “Number one, even if he weren’t over me, it wouldn’t fucking matter because I am over him.”
His eyes searched yours as if he was trying to see if you were telling the truth. “…Are you?”
“Absolutely,” you said. “Number two, whoever he is with -which is not going to be me, by the way- will not be ruling Chicago with him. Chicago’s rules are different, the crown moves through blood there. Spouses are irrelevant, they’re treated worse than heirs, or right arms. Don’t get me wrong, I hate the bitch who he’s going to marry because she’s a terrible person, but I kind of feel bad for her too because no one will ever take her seriously. King consort or queen consort, doesn’t matter because they have zero power, except for providing heirs and strengthening the loyalty of families.”
Bucky blinked a couple of times. “Jesus, and we say we have medieval rules.”   
“Exactly,” you said. “And number three, I know we both keep forgetting it but we are in fact married. Even if I weren’t over him, me going to Chicago would be grounds for war and only an idiot—”
“Trojan War started the same way, didn’t stop anyone.”
“I appreciate the compliment but I’m not the underworld edition of Helen of Troy,” you pointed out. “That’s not what’s going to happen here. Unless Eric Bana shows up, that is.”
“Which one was he in that movie, Paris?”
“Hector,” you said with a sigh. “The things I’d do to him…”
“I’m glad we had this conversation because now I will have to add him to my hitlist as well.”
You rolled your eyes at him.
“The point is,” you said. “I’m not starting a war between Chicago and New York for an ex. Because that’s what Rhett is. An ex.”
“He doesn’t see you as just an ex,” Bucky told you. “You said it yourself. He trusts you.”
The sight of Rhett’s car by the campus outside your building made you stop dead in your tracks only for a moment. You could feel the smile pulling your lips as you approached him, and he took off his sunglasses to grin at you.
“Hey stranger.”
“Hey,” you said. “Look at that, you survived.”
“Mm hm.”
“I take it the same can’t be said for Lucas?”
“For him or any of his men,” he stated, leaning back to his car. “He was waiting exactly where you said he was.”
You nodded your head. “How pissed off was your father?”
“Very pissed off,” he said. “But I think it worked out pretty well, you know? Now we have sent a message.”
“The ultimate golden heir is not to be crossed or challenged,” you teased him with a small smirk. “That’s a good message.”
He heaved a sigh, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Hm?”
“Why did you warn me?” he asked. “I mean, aside from the orgasms I gave you—”
“That was a mutual transaction,” you pointed out, making him let out a chuckle and hold up his hands.
“It really was,” he said. “But seriously, we were broken up. And I know what promise he dangled in front of you. What, you didn’t even consider it?”
You made a face, shaking your head. “No.”
“Why not?”
“New York values loyalty over power,” you said. “That’s what I grew up with. I don’t do business with greedy backstabbers, neither would my father or anyone else in New York. Once a traitor, always a traitor.”
Rhett’s gaze was fixed on you, a light crossing his eyes as he let out a breath.
“Jesus…” he muttered. “One last transaction, cupcake?”
“Nope,” you said with a laugh. “Then we will get attached and we can’t have that. You have a city to take over, and I’m too smart to be put in the background in someone else’s empire.”
Rhett smiled softly.
“My father won’t do business with anyone in New York,” he said, and you shrugged your shoulders.
“I know. Everyone knows.”
“Neither will I,” Rhett said. “Until you need my help.”
Your eyes shot up to his, your stomach doing a happy flip.
“You’d do that for me?” you asked and he nodded.
“You saved my life, and proved that I can in fact trust you,” he said. “Chicago values loyalty above everything else. The least I can do is pay back the favor.”
A smile warmed your face. “I’ll come to collect, Rhett.”
“Looking forward to it,” he said and extended his hand. “Pleasure doing business with you, cupcake.”
You let out a giggle, and shook his hand.
“Yeah,” you said. “Likewise.”  
“Because I earned his trust,” you told him as his phone vibrated and he checked the screen, then typed something. Even if you wanted to ask who it was, you managed to control yourself, biting inside your cheek.
“Dr. Raynor rescheduled the therapy session for the evening,” you told him. “Your assistant told you?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I have a meeting with Anna before that so I might be a bit late but I’ll be there.”
Your brows shot up, that familiar bitterness burning your mouth. “With Anna?”
“Mm hm,” he said. “Gotta go, I’ll see you there,”
With that, he walked out of the apartment and closed the door behind him, and Alpine jumped back on the counter, meowing at you in a very demanding manner. You heaved a sigh, stroking over her soft fur.
“We’re not going to threaten Anna,” you told her, “Because that’s a fucking insane thing to do, and we’re very logical, rational individuals, right Alpine?”
Alpine meowed again and you nodded your head.
“Mm hm,” you muttered. “Exactly.”
                                               *
“I mean it’s not that I’m jealous,” you assured Becca who only watched you with her brows raised. “Obviously that’s not what’s happening here.”
She hummed, sipping her coffee.
“It’s just that she’s a bit too friendly with him I feel like.”
“Like Rhett is a bit too friendly with you?”
“That’s very different!” you protested. “Rhett and I are going to make a deal!”
“Anna already has a deal with Bucky.”
“Whose side are you on?” you asked, sulking and she let out a laugh.
“Yours, obviously,” she said. “But I’m just saying, maybe before pointing fingers, acknowledge the fact that Rhett liked you. A lot.”
“Liked,” you repeated. “Back then. Besides, I have no feelings for him and as I told Bucky, he will get married.”
“And he will have mistresses.”
“Probably,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “Alice will kill them I’m guessing. She was quite obsessed with him even while we were dating and now that Rhett says he will marry her, I do not want to think about the lengths she’d go to.”
 Your phone buzzed on the table and you checked the screen, then tilted your head. “Huh.”
“Who is it?”
“Ethan,” you said. “We haven’t talked in forever, apparently he was too busy and so was I. He wants to grab coffee sometime.”
“What is it with all your exes wanting to fuck you?” Becca asked, making your jaw drop.
“That’s not true!”
“No seriously, what are you doing to those guys?”
“I don’t do anything to them—you know what, we’re changing the subject,” you said as you put your phone back on the table. “Do you think I’ll be able to pull it off?”
“The deal?” Becca asked, “I’d say you already have.”
“Nothing is on paper yet.”
“It doesn’t matter, he flew here for that deal. He will make it.”
You drummed your fingernails on the table. “My father will have so many things to say about it I’m sure.”
“He can say whatever he wants—oh!” she sat up straighter. “Guess what I heard.”
“What?”
“Apparently, Ian is learning how to fight.”
You pulled your brows together. “I’m sorry?”
“Mm hm. His right hand is teaching him, the hot Hercules guy—”
“Ryan.”
“Yeah, him.”
You scoffed a laugh. “How did you hear about that?”
“Your father told my father and my father told my mom at breakfast,” she said. “Never too late to start I guess?”
“I mean he’s the heir,” you said with a sigh. “If the cage fight is happening…”
“You know how I feel about the cage fight tradition but for Ian’s case only, I will enjoy it,” she said. “I hate the son of a bitch.”
You squeezed her hand. “How Leila?”
“That’s actually why I wanted to meet up with you,” she said, huffing out a breath. “My mom kind of forced my hand.”
“How?”
“She and me and Leila are having brunch tomorrow.”
Your eyes widened. “What?”
“So I need you to tell me Leila won’t decide to dump me tomorrow.”
A small laugh escaped from your lips and you shook your head.
“She won’t,” you assured her. “Do you want me to be there? I will invite myself to that brunch, I don’t care what Winnifred thinks.”
 She looked like she was genuinely considering the idea before she made a face, then shook her head.
“Nah, I need to deal with this myself,” she muttered and you pressed a hand over your chest.
“Aw,” you said with a grin. “They grow up so fast.”
“Shut it,” she said, kicking at your shoe with hers, making you gasp. “But I’m going to need all the moral support I can get, so you will be by the phone the whole time, alright?”
You let out a laugh. “Deal.”
                                                    *
Bucky was late to the therapy session as he said he would be by fifteen minutes, and when he got there, he was rather tense. Even if you wanted to ask what had happened, you knew you couldn’t in front of the therapist so you raised your brows at him but he shook his head.
“So,” Dr. Raynor said, “Let’s pick up from where we left off the last time. How have things progressed in terms of your communication with your ex-boyfriend in the picture?”
“Him being my ex-boyfriend doesn’t play a part in our communication or lack thereof,” you said quickly and Bucky clicked his tongue.
“It definitely does.”
“I think what plays an important part in our communication is the fact that Bucky doesn’t exactly trust me.”
Bucky blinked a couple of times and turned to look at you better.
“I don’t think you should be pointing fingers here, Charm.”
“I do trust you!” you protested, making him scoff.
“Could’ve fooled me.”
“You know what, if you’re being like this because I didn’t give you one tiny little detail about my plan—”
“One tiny little detail?” Bucky repeated with a laugh. “Try the whole plan.”
“You wouldn’t even spare me a glance if I pulled the shit you did back in that back alley,” you finished your sentence as if he didn’t cut you off and that seemed to take him by surprise. He gawked at you, then licked his lips, shaking his head.
“Are you serious right now?”
“What happened in the back alley?” Dr. Raynor asked, her voice almost too calm and Bucky gritted his teeth, leaning back in the couch as if he was uncomfortable all of a sudden.
“It was ages ago,” he said curtly and you hummed.
“And you never apologized.”
“I did apologize—”
“Asking me if I’m still mad via text does not count as an apology, Bucky.”
“What happened?” Dr. Raynor asked and you took a deep breath, then crossed your arms.
“I had a silly little crush on Bucky years and years ago,” you said. “Before I left for college, I made the mistake of telling him about it.”
“Charm.”
“And it’d be fine if he only turned me down but nope,” you spat, that bitter taste burning your throat again. “He had to humiliate me.”
“I didn’t humiliate—”
“Yes you did,” you cut him off and he ran a hand over his face, then motioned at Dr. Raynor.
“Are we seriously going to do this in front of her?”
“Why not?” you said. “That’s what the therapy is for.”
“And you resent him for it, Y/N?” Dr. Raynor asked and Bucky scoffed a laugh.
“Oh she hates me for it,” he corrected her and you shrugged your shoulders.
“I’m not saying I don’t trust you, I’m just saying that if I didn’t trust you, it would be with a reason.”
“Right.”
“Was there a reason behind it, Bucky?”
“No there wasn’t, other than the fact that he wanted to humiliate me.”
“Charm.”
“Y/N, open communication is very important and a huge part of it is listening,” Dr. Raynor said, making you shake your head.
“No, he really didn’t have a reason other than the fact that he was the city’s golden prince who thought—”
“My father wanted us to end up together,” Bucky cut you off, making you pull your brows together in confusion and you turned your head to gawk at him.
“What?” you asked after a beat and Bucky clicked his tongue.
“Yeah,” he said. “He kept talking about how it would be good for the business, how I should visit you in Chicago when you’d leave for college and…all that bullshit.”
You blinked a couple of times in complete silence and Bucky bit inside his cheek.
“I mean obviously I didn’t see you that way back then, but I wouldn’t have been that much of an asshole to you if that was the only reason,” he told you, his voice almost inaudible. “I thought…I thought you were yet another cage he would drag me into, that’s it.”
You could barely hear anything from the way your heart was pounding in your ears and Bucky swallowed thickly, then stole a look at Dr. Raynor and took a deep breath.
“Yeah no, I’m not doing this shit in front of a stranger,” he muttered and got up from the couch as if he was too restless, then walked out of the office and slammed the door behind him. The sound snapped you out of your haze and you jumped on your feet, grabbing your purse.
“Thanks Dr. Raynor,” you said in a haste and walked out of the office as well but by the time you stepped outside, Bucky’s car had already driven off. You let out a breath, then leaned back to the wall on the building and rubbed at your eyes.
“Oh…” you murmured more to yourself. “Fuck.”
Chapter 35
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antiquarianfics · 1 year ago
Text
The Best Things Take Time
Bucky has a code. You manage to crack it.
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A/N: This took me so long because I wasn't really sure how I wanted to go about it. I'm pretty happy with it, I think. Also, my first request! I hope I did your brain-child justice. :) Warnings: Mild language. Based on this request. Note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters.
You do not have permission to repost or translate my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and/or reblog.
----
Bucky Barnes decided early on in his life as a free man that he wasn’t going to try and date—even with Sam and Yori pushing him all the time. His triggers are gone, yes, but he is starkly aware that he still has a long way to go before he might be considered ready to give time and energy to another person on a daily basis. However, if there is anyone in the world that makes him reconsider his own rule, it’s you.
The two of you first formally met when Steve, Sam, and yourself finally tracked him down. You were kind to him, but you kept your distance. He never made many attempts to speak with you, but the short interactions he did have with you were short and clinical. He never asked, but he’s pretty sure you’re afraid of him—of what he’s done.
Despite this assumption, Bucky takes note of the way you drop everything to help him time and time again. You back him in Washington, you back him in Siberia, you back him in Wakanda, and you back him in Washington in the second go-round. He is appreciative—very much so—but he keeps his distance regardless. After all, he shouldn’t risk losing an ally by something as silly as small talk.
Things begin to change, though, when he runs into you at the airport. Both him and you felt the need to get on Sam’s back about giving up the shield.
“What are you doing here?” You ask, a little indignantly. You cringe a little at your tone, but you brush it off nonetheless.
Bucky shoots you an annoyed look before turning to Sam.
Throughout the mission to track down the Flag Smashers, you and Bucky bicker (even more than Sam and Bucky do). You challenge him on every opinion he shares, poke fun at every misstep he takes, and side with Sam for the sake of disagreeing with him. He returns the favor, and he ignores the bitter taste it leaves in his mouth.
Your interactions are not particularly pleasant, sure, but they’re existent—which is progress.
“Does he always stare like that?” Walker asks Sam, eyeing Bucky uncomfortably.
“You get used to it,” Sam replies.
You glare at Walker. His attitude towards you and your boys bothers you. His entitlement to Steve’s shield and name bothers you. He bothers you.
“Does she always stare like that?” Walker asks, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
“Only when douchebags harass my friends,” you deadpan.
You are plenty aware this is the first time you’ve called Bucky your friend, and you can tell he is too by the way his eyes shift from Walker to you. You’re not aware, though, that your concession of friendship serves as the push he needs to talk to you more.
It takes time, but over the next few weeks, Bucky manages to get you to open up. He’s surprised with himself by how he’s willing to talk to you; after all, people are usually trying to get him to talk.
Bucky finds out that you’re actually not as reserved as he thought, but you had heard both Steve’s stories of before and multiple people’s accounts of after. Your distance, you admit, was a consequence of you trying to give him space when everyone else was crowding him. Your teasing and bickering with him was a consequence of trying to create said space. The revelation makes Bucky’s heart clench: no one has made him feel so cared for in a long time.
Bucky sticks by his no dating rule, though. After all, you may be friends, and you may be acting nicer to him lately, but there’s no way you like him like that.
Or, at least he thinks so until Louisiana.
“Hey, Sarah,” Bucky says, flashing a charming smile at her from where he sits next to Sam and yourself on the dock.
“Hey!” You smack his chest with the back of your hand. “No flirting with Sam’s sister.”
He lets his attention shift to you, and he can’t help the surprise. He’s aware that you could just be enforcing Sam’s demand from earlier, but you’re so adamant. He thinks maybe he sees a flash of jealousy in your eyes, but he thinks, too, he might just be seeing what he wants to see.
Sam and Sarah continue to bicker before she shoos the three of you away from the boat. Sam and Bucky step onto the dock and begin to walk away before you, and they keep walking even when Sarah stops you.
“Subtle,” she says, smirking at you. You wave her off, your face heating up with a blush.
“Shut up,” you say, embarrassment entwined with each syllable.
Bucky thinks maybe—just maybe—you might like him back.
Looking back on the last few years, Bucky can hardly believe the journey you and he had been on. Being so distant most of your time together in the first few years, and then being so rude to each other the next few, and then needing a push from the Wilsons to actually do anything about your feelings… it was interesting, to say the least.
He remembers the day you agreed to leave Louisiana with him. It was an impulsive decision, but it led to the first time the two of you had truly been alone together. It led to inside jokes and deep conversations. It led to a genuine friendship.
“I’m headed out tomorrow,” Bucky informed you and Sam.
The three of you were sitting on the porch of Sarah’s house, conversation flowing from friendly jests, to Karli, to the boat, to whatever else. Your head shot up to stare at him, eyes widening.
“What? Why?” Your tone was a little panicked. Bucky raised his eyebrows at your tone. Sam laughed, and you shot him a glare.
“I don’t want to overstay my welcome, Doll,” he said. Ever since the incident with Sarah, he’d let a few pet names for you fall from his lips, and he smugly noted the way they made you squirm.
“Oh.”
“Well!” Sam exclaimed, clapping his palms on his knees as he stood. “I’m gonna go check on Sarah and the boys while you,” he pointed at the two of you in turn, “figure whatever is going on here out.”
You protested, but Sam was gone without another word. Neither one of you spoke for a moment, and you chewed on your lip.
“You’re really going?” You asked shyly.
“Yeah.”
“Oh.”
“You can come with me, if you want,” he offered before he can think better of himself.
Your eyes shot to his, analyzing his face for any sort of jest. He seemed sincere, and once you decided he wasn’t pulling your leg, you responded.
“Okay.”
He remembers the day the two of you finally addressed that you were more than friends. Bucky, of course, has a no dating rule, and you? You had no such thing, but you weren’t dating either. In fact, you hadn’t since before Karli and the Flag Smashers showed up.
Bucky and yourself were at a bar, drinking and laughing with one another. He was sober, of course, but you were a little tipsy. You had a dopey smile on your face that he thought was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. He still thinks your smile is the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.
That’s when a young woman sauntered up to the bar. She was gorgeous; her long, black braids reached her waist, her lips were painted a bright red color, and she wore a halter top that left little to the imagination.
“Hi,” she said, grabbing your attention, shooting you a flirtatious smile.
“Hi!” You said, the alcohol making you friendlier than you usually are.
“I saw you across the bar, and I was jus’ wonderin’, would you wanna grab a drink with me? Maybe dance a lil’?” Her eyes dragged down your body and back up to your eyes.
Your eyes widened and you blushed.
“Oh, uh! T-thank you! I’m flattered, but, uh, I got my guy right here, and I kinda like him too much to date!” You sort of yell-whispered the confession to the girl.
She glanced behind you to Bucky whose eyes had also widened in shock, his mouth hanging open a little. The woman laughed and touched your shoulder comfortingly.
“‘s alright,” she assured. “Was worth a shot, though.”
She turned to Bucky then.
“Yo, congrats, man. You’re a lucky guy once you two talk that through.”
With that, she had left, and you turned around to Bucky.
“Look,” you said, more sober sounding than you’d been since the two of you arrived at the bar. “I don’t know what you think this is, or what you want it to be, but I’m all in if you are.”
Bucky leaned forward and kissed you without a second thought.
And he remembers the moment he decided he was going to marry you, if you’d have him.
The two of you were sitting on the couch in your shared apartment; after about two years of dating, you insisted you live together.
“Buck, you’re always here. All your stuff is here. I don’t think you’ve stepped foot in your apartment in a month. You’re just wasting money on rent at this point.”
You were leaned into his side, eyes glued to the tv screen. The two of you were watching The Princess Bride (it’s one of the many movies you insisted was so culturally significant that he had to see it). It was the way you would turn to him at your favorite parts, gauging his reactions to see if he loved it like you did; the way you would mouth the most iconic lines along with the characters; and the way you would sigh contentedly and cuddle further into his side at the romantic scenes that really pulled the realization from deep within him. And, perhaps, it was the way you produced the most ridiculous voice to say "Mawwiage! Mawwiage is what bwings us here today!" that truly brought the idea of marrying you to the forefront of his mind. Regardless, he knew he wanted you around for the rest of his already over-extended lifetime.
Bucky Barnes decided early on in his life as a free man that he wasn’t going to try and date, and he decided late in his life as a free man that he wasn't going to ever try and date anyone other than you. So, here he finds himself, kneeling on the ground in front of you with a ring extended towards your person, and hoping you'll say yes.
"Sweetheart, I know we've had a lot of ups and downs. We met when I wasn't truly myself, we got together when I was still figuring out who I am on my own—without Steve, without HYDRA—but no matter what, you've been there for me. You're still here for me.
"You deserve the world, Doll, and I want to give it to you. I want to be here for all your ups and downs, and I want to spend my life being to you what you've already been to me.
"You're my partner, you're my best friend, you're the love of my life. And if you'll have me, I'll be your king, if you'll be my queen. I'll be your husband, if you'll be my wife.
"Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?"
You let out a laugh through a sob, pulling your hand to your face to quickly wipe your tears away, and you nod vigorously. You drop to your knees, pulling Bucky's face into your hands, caressing his cheek gently. Smiling, you respond.
"James Bucky Barnes, of course I'll marry you."
1K notes · View notes
heartkyeom · 1 year ago
Text
be sweet
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prince!hoshi x princess!reader (svthub garden collab)
word count: 18.7k
warnings: arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, modern royalty au, family issues, descriptions of food, unprotected sex
tag list (only svthub members since I’m revamping my tag list): @bitchlessdino @wondernus @idyllic-ghost @strawberryya @junkissed
notes: oh my god I finally have another fic out!! this one was truly a labor of love, thank you to all the svthub members that beta read any part of this story. this fic is for the @svthub garden collab and I am extremely grateful for the network’s help with this story <3 I’m very happy that this aligned with hoshi’s birthday! and a big big thank you to my beloved @wondernus for making this amazing header for me!!! as always, I hope y’all enjoy this and please leave feedback through reblogs !!!! and the title is based off the amazing song be sweet by japanese breakfast, listen along to it if you’d like!
The day’s events shouldn’t have felt so taxing, yet they were. There were only a few meetings you had to sit in on, both not requiring full participation. That sounded easy enough for you to handle, you were used to the rigor of royal meetings for years now.
It was easy enough to brush off any requests with a short comment of approval or neutrality, never expressing a thought of negativity unless the guest was close to your family.
You didn’t pull the princess card very often, especially since your meetings mainly consisted of fellow royals who knew the pressure of the job, but today felt different.
Maybe it was the dull pressure that resided in your head, making it hard to focus on the topics at hand. You curse yourself for not taking some kind of headache relief earlier, but now it has lodged itself in the middle of your brain.
You almost work up the nerve to speak up, but your aide beats you to it.
“Princess,” you feel a hand on your shoulder, “there's an urgent matter. We should leave immediately.” Her hushed tone makes your heart clench.
You could only hope no one in your family was hurt. You silently nod and clear your throat, bringing attention to yourself.
“I’m so sorry, but something urgent came up. I have to go, but please make sure to send me any notes and I’ll be sure to review them before we meet again,” You offer the room a small smile, enough to garner empathetic nods from the room.
You let out a shaky breath and stand from your seat, your aide trailing slightly behind your side as you both exit the room in silence.
“What’s going on?” You ask hesitantly.
“Someone has requested a private meeting with you, they asked to keep their identity a secret. Everyone in the family is okay, don’t worry,” The aide turns her head slightly to make sure she can see your response.
You can’t help but ask about your family first, it’s the only thought you have as the only child.
If someone’s passed on, you’re stepping up to handle the situation, and the emergency plans start to kick into high gear.
Luckily, that nightmare can remain at rest.
“Okay,” you nod slowly, trying to process who could want a private meeting with you.
Is an elder statesman concerned about his country? An estranged family member asking for a favor? It really could be anything or anyone.
You both keep a consistent pace through the cavernous halls of the royal estate, your footsteps echoing loudly with each step. You soon arrive at one of many conference rooms, and you’re surprised to see your aide face her back towards the door, she steps aside to let you walk in.
“I’ll be out here if you need anything, lest it escalates to that point,” She raises her eyebrows at you before looking away. That wasn’t a reassuring sign.
You brace yourself before going inside, but nothing seems to prepare you for who’s waiting.
“Hi, lovely.” Kwon Soonyoung smiles at you in a menacingly sweet kind of way, it makes your blood boil.
He’s dressed much nicer than you’re used to seeing him, he’s the type to wear baggy clothes that swallow him whole. In contrast, today he wears a crisp button-down with black slacks, his suit coat nowhere to be found. His signature designer sneakers are exchanged for loafers instead. There’s no logical reason why he could be here, considering his own busy schedule as a prince.
Soonyoung isn’t flying in for a private conversation just for the hell of it.
“Why are you here?” Your tone is resolute, not allowing for even an inch of resistance.
“That’s what we need to talk about. We’re getting married,” He lifts the corner of his mouth.
You let out a laugh that is nowhere near polite, in fact, you’re nearly cackling at the prospect of this idea. It’s simply so outlandish, so fantastical that every time you look at his face it seems more unfathomable.
Most princesses knew to let each other know that if they were charmed by him, Soonyoung was ultimately not marriage material. If anything, he was determined to make himself the least suitable husband possible.
He was the typical sweet boy turned party animal, spending most nights abroad drinking his days away with a new girl in his bed every night. He does show up to the occasional political obligation, but only when his team forces him to. That’s one reason why he bothers you so much, he has such little duty to his native country of Aranorin and the people in it that everyone else has to make him care about it.
“You’re joking, there’s no fucking way,” Your body vibrates from laughter, but you slowly come to your senses once you see he’s not cracking another joke.
“I’m not joking, I’m here to start our courtship.” His serious tone makes you start to consider the gravity of the situation.
“Hold on, so you think you can just come into Maritria, coming from god knows where,” You make a broad gesture toward him before continuing, “to formally start our relationship. That’s what you’re saying,” You cross your arms, returning to your originally defensive stance.
“Yes, this isn’t just coming out of thin air. This has been in the works for a few months now,” He raises his eyebrows to punctuate the timeline. It just makes you even more confused. Why wouldn’t anyone tell you about this?
“What do you mean?” You question.
He braces himself one last time. “I’ve been speaking to the king and queen about arranging our marriage for two months,” You almost think his face goes slightly sympathetic at his admission, but that’s wishful thinking.
Regardless, it’s a blow to your ego.
How could they not tell you? How could they so easily shift the responsibility onto him without saying a word?
It would be one thing if they were still considering other men, but to know the talks were final, that Kwon Soonyoung was your future husband whether you liked it or not, was a devastating realization.
“This is unbelievable.” You let out a shaky whisper, you’re so rattled that you force yourself to sit down and close your eyes, willing yourself to take a deep breath.
You open your eyes to see him hovering near you, clearly a stifled attempt to try and comfort you. Yet, he’s the least comforting person you’ve ever known.
“I don’t want to do this either. You’re definitely not my first choice for a wife.” He scoffs at the possibility that he could ever choose you without incentive.
“Yeah, clearly. You’d rather want a girl who would kiss your ass every day instead of being honest with you.” You retort.
The gossip that flitted between young royals all but confirmed your suspicion that he dumped any girl that tried to make a long-term connection with him. It was fine if he didn’t want to get married. Not all royals are meant for it, and he didn’t have as much pressure to marry off as the youngest child. He could get away with being a lifetime bachelor, but choosing that lifestyle wasn’t worth hurting other people in the process.
“Aw, is lifetime celibacy boring you that much to the point where you’re worried about the girls I sleep with?” He cracks a smile that you match with a forced laugh.
“No, I just think you dump them as soon as they realize how small your dick is.” You smile through your response, causing him to form his arms together.
“You’re so lucky now that we’re together, you can finally stop waiting for those nice guys who don’t have a personality to sweep you up,” His condescending tone makes you frustrated but not deterred from bantering completely.
“So I can end up dating one of your dickhead friends instead? Absolutely not,” You shake your head knowing how insufferable most of his friends are. Soonyoung just happened to be the worst of them.
“All jokes aside, I know you’re perfectly aware of why we’re getting married. I don’t have to look at the news to know things are bleak,” His straightforward approach forces you to swallow the lump in your throat.
You knew the country’s finances were not great.
You didn’t want or need to see the exact numbers, especially if it makes your day-to-day duties labored with worry. Although many political teams insist that princesses have no business in the logistical affairs of running a country, it meant everything to you to know how your country was faring in the world. Maritria already maintained a longstanding connection with Aranorin that gave your country some freedom to pursue other lucrative opportunities, but it dawned on you that it wasn’t enough.
“I’m doing this for my country, not out of some pathetic excuse you may have to avoid self-reflection. You can just get married to me and stop pretending to be a good person, right?” You ask bitingly.
“We both know I stopped pretending a long time ago. Marrying the nation’s sweetheart is just a bonus,” He smirks unapologetically, you don’t like the way the nickname sits on his tongue as if it’s his own.
“Is there anything else you want? I need to get back to work,” You stand up from your seat, trying not to look back at the door while you plot your escape. It was hard enough not to completely explode at him, and you needed to redirect your energy elsewhere.
“There is, I got you something,” He retrieves a small velvet box from his pocket. “It’s not an engagement ring, but just consider it a courtship gift.”
You open the box and lightly examine the ring. You know it’s far too expensive than most of the jewelry you’ve ever worn. Your family was wealthy, but Soonyoung’s family had the kind of money that you didn’t need to plan so carefully around. However, you don’t want to seem so easily impressed.
“It’s fine. When are you planning on proposing?” You brush him off easily.
“That ruins the surprise.” He smiles at you yet your face remains stoic.
“I’ll get your number from someone else, I don’t want to drag this out anymore.” You stuff the box in your dress pocket and start to make your way toward the exit.
“It’s been horrible to see you again, Your Royal Highness.” His stiffly formal greeting makes you turn around to face him.
You squint your eyes. “Don’t do that.”
“What?”
“The Royal Highness thing,” You point at yourself before continuing, “I’m not gonna say Your Royal Highness every time we’re in private. Don’t start giving a shit now.”
“Fine. Bye, darling.” He quips.
Your face contorts into disgust before you can stop yourself. “You’re not gonna make that my mandated wife nickname.”
“You don’t get to choose the nickname I give you, honey.” He approaches you and pinches your cheek before speaking, “Besides, it’ll be fun to try to figure out how to mask my hate for you in public.”
You cringe at his touches, but you straighten up immediately.
“Likewise,” You offer a tight-lipped smile before finally leaving the room.
You close the door behind you and take the breath you didn’t know you were holding in.
“Can you clear my schedule for the rest of the day? I need time to deal with this,” You finally look at your aide with an expectant glance.
“Yes, of course, princess.” She immediately grabs her phone to send notices to those involved. You can’t even remember who you were meant to see for the rest of the day. Your mind simply wanders to your parents, the next targets of your rage.
“I’m gonna go home. I don’t want to see anyone unless it’s my parents. Or him, not that I want him around anyways,” You roll your eyes at the thought of having to voluntarily communicate with him on a regular basis.
“Sounds good. I have his phone number, if you’d like it.” She offers.
“Ok,” You agree and quickly input his phone number. As you type in a contact name, you’re not sure what to call him.
Soonyoung is far too casual, it doesn’t feel comfortable yet. You’re absolutely not calling him by his title, not by a long shot.
The romantic pet names similar to the ones he used with you were not earned, so it left you stumped.
You settle on “headache,” because the ache in your temple is still there, bothering you immensely and now he’s adding to it.
You’re just lucky that you didn’t end up shouting at each other this time.
As if they could read your mind, your parents call you in for an emergency meeting before you can make it home. That pent-up rage is starting to make its way out before you even see them, it shows in the way you stomp to your father’s main office, marching far ahead of your aide.
You open the door without knocking, a major sign that you’re not looking forward to the discussion.
Your father gives you a warning look, but you’re not bothered by it. The staff turns their attention toward your bold entrance, immediately preparing themselves to leave.
Your father is sitting in his velvet study chair, poised as always. Your mother stands behind your father, idly leaning her weight against the back wall.
Her demeanor is not as composed, as if she knows you’re about to raise hell.
“We’d like a private meeting, thank you,” He gives a pained smile to the staff and they all file out silently. You watch them with a fiery gaze, waiting for the last person to close the door behind you.
When the door finally shuts, you whip your gaze to face them again.
“Soonyoung? Are you kidding me?” You exclaim.
“Y/N, please,” Your mother tries to intercept, but you’re faster than that.
“Actually, I’d like to know exactly why I was left out of the conversation about me having an arranged marriage, to begin with,” You cross your arms and lean back in your chair, preparing yourself for a bullshit excuse.
“Well, we were anticipating this kind of reaction,” he gestures at you in disapproval, “you weren’t meant to be involved in these discussions in the first place.” He speaks to you so patronizingly that it almost catches you off guard.
“So you can just decide that I’m getting married on a whim, just like that.” You snap your fingers impatiently.
“You know how the country is currently faring, you knew marriage could possibly be an option for financial security almost a year ago. Please don’t act like this is some affront to you,” Your father slowly raises his voice, fists slowly clenching as he elaborates.
“Yes, but you didn’t tell me things were this bad. You didn’t tell me that you had tried everything else. Hell, you didn’t even tell me that you were starting discussions about marriage!” You were trying your best to keep your voice even, but the defeat was starting to show through.
“We ultimately thought leaving you in the dark was best, but we miscalculated.” Your mother tries to cover for your father’s stern approach. You scoff, turning away for a moment before continuing.
Miscalculated is an understatement. You were devastated.
Your father seems to be annoyed that you were showing this much emotion while your mother seems ashamed that the situation has escalated this far. Their conflicting expressions just made you feel even worse, knowing that they couldn’t act as a united front. You wished that it was either complete anger or support from both of them.
“Soonyoung. You can’t possibly tell me he was the only option,” You turn back to them with glossy eyes.
“Sweetheart, you know Arinorin is one of our most important allies. Soonyoung would have always been an option. Even if there were better options, we couldn’t ignore him.” Her comforting tone does little to comfort you at the moment.
A tear finally falls onto your cheek. Her words hurt because she was right. Even if there was a perfect prince waiting for you out there, he wasn’t the prince of Arinorin.
“He hates me, you don’t see how much he hates me.” You shake your head and cover your face with your hands. You’re fully sobbing into your hands and it leaves your parents speechless. You know they’re looking at you with full judgment, but it didn’t matter.
“You’re giving your only daughter away to a man who despises her.” You seethe through your tears.
“He hasn’t given us any reason not to trust him.” Your father speaks up again and it breaks you down even further. He has that immovable stare on his face that signals his word is final.
You compose yourself before speaking again.
“When we get a divorce, it’ll be your fault.” You lift your hand to your cheeks, wiping away any stray tears left on your face.
“You’re being ridiculous, you’re saying that you won’t even try for your country?” Your father shifts in his seat, it seems like he wants to jump up and fully lecture you but it won’t happen.
You finally snap. “I have tried for this country! Every day, I have shown both of you what I’m capable of as a future queen, not asking you for anything. Now, the one part of my life where I should have control, choosing the person I’m married to, I have none.” By the time you finish speaking, your tears are gone by sheer will. Your eyes burn with the familiar sting of fatigue mixed with anger bubbling over the surface.
“I’m sorry, dear.” You see your mother wipe a tear of her own. You were grateful that she saw through you, at least at this moment. It was a quiet show of support that you needed amongst all these difficult feelings.
You put your head in your hands for a moment before looking up at them. “I’m going home and someone will send me the things I need to wrap my head around this entire situation.” Your tone is far more measured compared to before.
Before you can hurt your own feelings by hearing them out, you decide to make your exit. You’re nearly out of the door before you turn around again, letting go of the doorknob.
“I’ll always remember that he told me first instead of you.” With that, you leave without looking back at their expressions.
Hopefully, it’ll hurt like hell for them to hear it.
You ignore the staff members that were peering near the door, eagerly waiting to see who would break first. You’re sure that it looks dramatic, but you were far too concerned with your own feelings before anyone else’s.
Once you made it home, you were attempting to forget the stress of the day and it was going relatively well. You were able to catch up on a TV show you’d been forgetting to watch, and finally remembering to do self-care tasks that were left unattended due to your work.
Now, you’re taking a bubble bath with no intention of opening your eyes anytime soon. You needed to just sit, you didn’t have much time to do that most days.
The water is still fairly hot, enough to where you can sink down and continue to salvage any remaining calmness you might’ve had left.
Thus, your vibrating phone didn’t exactly make you feel at ease. You hope that it wasn’t one of your parents, considering your conversation didn’t have a clean finish. Any of their apologies would be falling on stubborn ears.
You glance at your lock screen and if anything, it’s worse.
It’s him. You pick up the phone with an anxious hand and press the accept button.
“What do you want?” You snap at him.
“You actually picked up!” He notes with a hint of surprise.
“Trust me, I didn’t want to.” You shift uncomfortably in the bathtub, the sloshing water calling you out immediately.
“Is that water? What are you doing?” His curious nature already annoys you, so it’ll be easier to dodge the question.
“None of your business.” Your free hand cups the remaining bubbles in the bath.
“Oh my god, is the princess naked on the phone with me?” He sounds far too pleased with himself. You can practically hear his shit-eating grin in the way he replies.
“You’re a horny little freak who hasn’t told me why he’s called yet.” You force yourself to sit up now that the relaxation in your body is quickly dissipating.
“Right. We’re doing intimacy coordination tomorrow. I figured you didn’t look at that schedule they gave you.”
“Shit.” You sigh just out of earshot.
Intimacy coordination isn’t common at all with arranged royal marriages. If a couple looked like they had never met before in their life, it was typically on them for not being more convincing. Yet, the number of public events you two have to be involved in over the foreseeable future warranted different circumstances. If you couldn’t look head over heels for each other at the wedding, it was going to spell trouble for both countries.
“I’m only in town until tomorrow night, so I don’t have to look at your face for much longer than that,” You sigh at his response, knowing that he’s not one to hold back with you.
“I wish you could leave sooner, maybe I could actually enjoy not seeing you even more than I already do.” You reach to open the drain.
“Just practicing my future husband duties by stressing you out, love,” You can practically hear his smile through the phone.
“That one isn’t bad, actually,” Your thoughts trail off once you hear it, but he brings you back to reality almost immediately.
“So that’s definitely not what I’m gonna call you.”
“I’m hanging up.” Your waning patience with him has officially run out and you’re itching to move on with your night.
“Bye, honey!” He’s laughing uncontrollably through the response and it makes your blood boil. It’s clear that this is already a joke to him.
“Fuck off,” You hang up before you have to listen to his laughter any longer. You put your head in your hands and let out a muffled scream.
He already wanted to make this courtship as excruciating as possible.
You finally stand up from the bath and wrap a warm towel around your body, staring at your reflection in the mirror.
Luckily, your parents did listen to your request and a massive document of schedules and timelines of your relationship with Soonyoung appeared in your email inbox.
You had only skimmed the schedule before Soonyoung called you, you stopped looking at it before it stressed you out beyond repair.
According to the timeline your parents created in accordance with his team, you were supposed to have been dating for 11 months at this point.
You can’t possibly imagine putting up a front for 11 months, but then again, you would have to pretend for the rest of your life.
That thought haunts you through the rest of your night routine.
How do you carve your life around Soonyoung when he’s creeping his way into everything?
How do you find peace when you’re with someone who’s determined to misunderstand you?
These questions have you wiping your tears as you attempt to fall asleep that night.
To your dismay, the intimacy training was first thing in the morning.
You were barely conscious, but somehow you arrived early with a slightly cloudy mentality and an overall dread for the next 2 hours.
You were the first of the three, besides your personal staff members, to arrive at the dance studio. You figured the space was far too big for what you were working through today, but you forego criticism to admire the room.
Admittedly, you didn’t go into many of the creative spaces throughout the palace because you weren’t a creative type. The arts were simply something you admired from afar, you didn’t have the talent even as a child to pursue these things seriously.
This apparently needed to be remedied as you notice the sweeping mirrors around the perimeter of the room. The hardwood floors were practically shining underneath your feet. You’re sure that whoever used the room was sure to enjoy themselves.
You’re admiring yourself in the mirror when you catch Soonyoung entering the room. He quietly greets the staff, giving short bows to everyone in sight.
It’s the only time you’ve seen him act with a royal demeanor, even in his casual workout clothes it’s a bit surprising to see him this way.
He makes his way over to you with a smile on his face.
“You’re early.” He eyes you up and down.
“Unfortunately, yes. You look.. comfortable.” You don’t mean to raise your voice up another octave, but you were just barely attempting niceties.
“So do you, you actually don’t look like you're trying too hard for once.” He leans against the mirror and gives you another judgmental look.
“It’s far too early in the morning to play this game, Kwon Soonyoung. Don’t get your feelings hurt.” You close your eyes before you get too angry, a slight change of pace from your typical interactions with him.
“It’s fine. I’m sure you’ll be more awkward considering you’ve only had two boyfriends, one who looked like he was your son.” He stifled a giggle.
“Chan was so sweet.” You pouted at the thought of your teenage boyfriend. He really was kind, probably the perfect first boyfriend that you could ask for. You remember how much he cried when you broke up with him. You just weren’t the same person you were when you started dating him at 16, so you needed the space to grow apart.
Unfortunately, Soonyoung was right about the mom thing.
“It’s not my fault I had a growth spurt and the stylists kept dressing me like a divorce lawyer.” You insisted.
You recalled how harsh the style blogs were on you back then, many claimed that you’d never find your own personal style as long as other people kept dressing you older than you actually were. Unfortunately, they were also right. You live and learn though.
However, you didn’t even want to think about your second boyfriend.
“I’m just saying good chemistry doesn’t come naturally to all of us, it’s okay to ask for help.” His faux concern was especially irritating.
You weren’t that awkward with men, were you?
You didn’t have much time to consider an answer before a young woman walked into the studio.
“Hi, it’s nice to meet you both! My name is Elise and I’ll be leading you both through training today.” She offers her hand out to you for a handshake and you accept with a smile. She does the same to Soonyoung and moves toward the mirror.
“So, how long have you known each other?” She dives right into discussions with the question.
“Around 15 years or so?” The number that came out of your mouth was definitely a rough estimate, but it sounded about right.
You vaguely remember being introduced to Soonyoung and his older siblings at a fancy state dinner as a child. He was far less mischievous then, a bit timid around everyone except his family. Since then, you’ve ran into each other regularly due to the relationship between your parents. They were far closer to each other than you were with him and his siblings, so the situation feels a bit ironic now.
“Okay, but I’m assuming you haven’t been in contact very often?” She clarifies.
“Not at all.” He chimes in.
“Right, so we’ve got our work cut out for us then. Today isn’t gonna be too complicated, you’re just gonna be trying some physical activities to see how natural that looks.” Elise smiles in order to lighten the mood, but you’re certain it won’t work out.
“So, what are we gonna practice, hugging?” He scoffs, and you’re certain that he thinks this is all bullshit. You weren’t happy about it either, but keeping up appearances was the most important part of this.
“Yes, I know that sounds weird, but I promise it’ll pay off,” Elise continues to offer reassuring statements, but he’s not convinced and frankly, neither are you. You exchange a glance with him and decide to take the lead as the awkwardness continues to sit in the air.
“So where should we start?” You ask out of a mix of curiosity and dread.
“Let’s just have you both hold hands.”
Soonyoung extends a hand out to you with a smirk on his face. You’d rather slap him, but you’d think it would leave Elise traumatized.
You take his hand a bit too forcefully and adjust yourself within his hold. By glancing at the two of you in the mirror, you notice two things.
First, his hands are warm, a bit too warm for this moment.
Secondly, his thumb is absentmindedly brushing against the back of your hand. You can’t call attention to it or else it’ll stop, and you decide in the moment that it’s too relaxing. He probably doesn’t even notice that he’s doing something so romantic, that little bastard.
“Okay, so how does that feel?” Elise asks.
“Fine.” The reply forces itself out of your mouth.
“It’s fine.” He agrees with a nod of his head. He also peers at the both of you in the mirror with a slight curiosity, his head tilting slightly.
“We do look good together, though.” He murmurs to himself. You’re not sure if it’s the arrogance peeking through and he only believes you look good while he’s with you, but maybe for a second, you can see what he’s talking about.
“Good, and what’s a small physical gesture you can do to make each other feel at ease?” Elise’s question causes you to look up at him.
This feels unnecessary since Soonyoung is not a nervous person. No matter what, his particularly frustrating charm and gregarious personality never allow any anxiety to show to others.
“I can just do this.” He calls attention to the thumb thing and that puts you on the spot.
He seems incapable of needing comfort. It’s one of the things that keeps a silent distance between the two of you. You believe that he remains emotionally stunted in order to navigate his world a bit easier.
He can let the girls who want something more from him down easy, and they don’t realize how bad it really felt to be pushed away until they never see him again.
You didn’t want to end up in that position.
“I don’t know.” You let your mind wander for a moment.
Yet, he was bold. He was always decisive in what he wanted, never caring about what his actions made him look like if it was for better or worse.
You figured that you should be bold too.
You intertwine your fingers deeper into his grasp and pull his hand to your lips, leaving a small peck on the back of his hand.
His eyes widened immediately. “That’s quite forward, princess.”
“I needed to one-up you,” You answer nonchalantly, but you don’t miss the slight spark in his eyes. It was unexpected, and you were always going by the book.
Elise ignores your conversation and continues her questioning. “So I assume you both will be interested in PDA?”
“To a certain extent, I don't see why not.” You pull back slightly into your reserved nature, but he runs with it.
“Yes, we’re supposed to be a more open and progressive couple to represent a new generation of royals, so it would be nice to be a bit bolder,” He nods decisively along with his response.
You didn’t really think about the relationship like that until he mentioned it. While you were attuned to a certain sense of responsibility as the singular face of your country’s new generation of leadership, it was known that you fought back against regressive norms brought up in your daily work.
Why not lean into something new when the image of your respective countries so desperately needed a refresh?
“That’s good to know. I know you both have different styles, but I think there are ways we can meet in the middle here.” Elise notes.
That statement proves to be true for the rest of your session. Elise leads you both through hugging and slightly provocative gestures that make you want to crawl out of your skin, but you both fumble your way through it.
Soonyoung seems insistent on embarrassing you with more revealing gestures while yours are relatively contained. He’s being a bit too playful for your liking, but it helps you understand his personality a bit more.
You decide that you want a moment to speak with him before he flies back home later that evening, excusing Elise and the remaining staff to leave you both in the studio.
“When do we see each other again?” You ask.
“You’re a bit too eager, aren’t you darling?” He smirks at you, and you lose the slight bit of faith you had instilled in him before.
“Shut up, I’m just trying to remember this stupid schedule.” You grumble. You resort to pulling out your phone instead, quickly finding the most up-to-date iteration of the relationship timeline in your email inbox.
“I’ll be in Arinorin in a few weeks to meet your parents,” Your brain works through the schedule quickly, scanning the information fast enough to say it out loud.
“Oh shit.” He mutters under his breath.
Oh shit was right. You haven’t had a proper conversation with the king and queen since you were a teenager. It was typical family friend fare, asking how your studies were going, if your hobbies were still things you enjoyed and a faint interest in any other topics that you happened to bring up.
Since then, there were only brief interactions in passing that were fairly positive. They must’ve thought quite well of you if they agreed to have their youngest son marry you, but that was something you’d have to inquire about with them.
“And to go on a date with you,” You mumbled.
That’s what really rattled you. It wouldn’t be real until no one else was around to direct and stage your romance, it was up to the both of you to make it happen.
“Right, I’ll get to choose what we get up to.” You can tell that his brain is creating a vision that will be less than satisfactory, and you can’t fight the urge to attempt to gain control.
“We aren’t going on your yacht, are we? I think you’ve broken enough hearts there.” You tease him.
“Very funny, and no, we’re not going on the boat… anymore.” He admits with an eye roll.
“See! I knew you were gonna take me there!” You interject, letting out the laugh that had been sitting in your chest for a minute or so.
“I’m never anybody’s boyfriend, cut me some slack,” He says it as if it’d get him off the hook for being mentally checked out during this process.
That much was obvious from the lack of planning, but you’d have to give him some space to try and impress you.
“Yeah, that’s pretty clear. I know long-term planning isn’t your strength.” You bite back and he brushes it off easily.
“Get all your jokes out now, but I’m gonna impress you. Mark my words,” He points at you while heading towards the door.
“We’ll see about that, loverboy,” You check your phone absentmindedly while he sees himself out.
“Is that my nickname?” He pokes his head back into the door with an excited tone.
“Bye, Soonyoung,” You grit your teeth into a smile and watch him reluctantly leave the room.
You can only hope your future in-laws aren’t as insufferable as him.
A few weeks later, the trip to Arinorin has arrived and all of its possible consequences are driving you up a wall. The culmination of meeting with your future in-laws, the date with Soonyoung, and the idea of being perceived as his partner outside of your home country are all slightly nauseating.
At first, it was just fun and games, but now, as the plane lands, the tension settles beneath your skin. Soonyoung was supposed to be picking you up, but you didn’t have much faith in that happening.
You barely remembered to grab the ring he gifted you so you could wear it while you were in town, simply as a reminder that this was all happening.
You exit the plane with your luggage in tow, only for Soonyoung to be waiting on the tarmac. He’s accompanied by a large black SUV that is clearly not his personal car, but his stance is trying to convince you that it is.
“Hi, princess.” He calls out with a wave of his hand.
“When are you gonna actually call me by my name?” You approach him with squinted eyes, your vision steadily adjusting to the early afternoon sun.
“When this feels less awkward, so give or take a few years,” He jokes.
“Not funny,” You gesture to him to take your luggage, and he catches the hint once you look at him again. You don’t want to shoulder smaller tasks onto his staff, you wanted to see how he would handle these things instead.
“How was the flight?” He calls out to you again, you hear the trunk slam shut and he comes into view again to anticipate your answer.
“It was alright, I’m just tired.” You rub at your temples to punctuate the feeling.
“Hopefully your room will be good enough,” He sounds somewhat considerate while opening the door for you. It feels wrong.
You slide into the back row with him following behind you. He shuts the door and his driver promptly begins the drive to the palace.
“Are you nervous about the trip? My parents aren’t exactly as kind as yours,” Soonyoung chuckles.
You let out a deep sigh. You wouldn’t call them kind considering the circumstances, in fact, you’re barely on speaking terms with them outside of public obligations.
Was it petty? Yes.
Was it also justified? Yes.
You figured that icing them out for a while would help them come to their senses. If worst comes to worst, maybe it could help you gain further control over the wedding.
Nevertheless, you were still upset with them.
“They’re really not that great, and I’d say that I’m pretty good with parents,” You avoid his glance to look out the window instead, taking in the sights of the country.
You don’t have many memories of Arinorin. Many of them were informed by meetings that you couldn’t even remember anymore.
“You’re right. The nation’s sweetheart can charm anyone. Plus it’ll give me time to think about what we’re gonna do on the date,” He affirms with a nod of his head.
“God, don’t remind me. If I’m lucky, we’ll be meeting at a strip club.” You roll your eyes.
“You really have no faith in me!” He pouts. You don’t give into him though.
“It's hard enough just being in a car with you.”
Soonyoung doesn’t ever have to think about first dates.
In fact, he doesn’t think he’s been on a proper first date since he was a teenager. Even then, it was low stakes. He could just pick something random for him and another girl to do, and it would be completely inconsequential to his life.
Now, impressing his future wife with an incredible first date feels monumental. He barely knew anything about you besides that goody two shoes personality of yours. It seemed like everyone was suddenly obsessed with you and he was the last to know.
He decides that a midday picnic is inoffensive enough for the both of you to enjoy. If either of you were miserable with each other, there would at least be good food to distract from it. The sunny weather was already on his side, now he just had to charm you.
You waved slightly as you approached his picnic blanket, stopping before your feet could cover the edge of the blanket.
“Wow, this is a lot,” Your eyes landed on the assortment of food spread across the blanket. There was a spread of fruit, snacks, and sandwiches for the two of you to eat together. Soonyoung knew he didn’t completely fuck up by the way you nodded, but you weren’t exactly jumping to praise him in general.
“I don’t get a hello?” He attempts a greeting but it falls flat.
You roll your eyes. “Hi, Soonyoung,” You state halfheartedly, crossing your arms in protest.
“Hi. Does the food look alright?” He takes off his sunglasses and fixes his gaze on you.
“Yeah, I figured you’d be inept at setting up a date, so it’s surpassed my expectations already,” You give him a tight-lipped smile before sitting on the blanket. He attempts to ignore the way your dress hikes up slightly to expose your thigh. The sundress that you’re wearing seems to expose every detail of your body that he’s neglected to look at, but he snaps back into focus when he hears you clear your throat.
Once you both start eating, it’s clear how little you have in common with each other. Sure, he figured it’d be a little difficult to get to know you, but the lingering silence doesn’t exactly make him eager to strike up a conversation.
“How do you feel about all this?” You ask suddenly. It catches him so off guard that he chokes on the piece of fruit he was chewing.
He coughs, raising the attention of the nearby guards. You turn to them, giving a signal that he’s okay before turning around. “Damn, I didn’t think the question was that bad,” You laugh sadly.
“No, it’s fine. I just didn’t expect it.” He waves off any suspicion.
He takes a deep breath. “I mean, I’m not thrilled. I know the economic aspect of this is the most important thing, but my parents are practically dying to marry me off,” He reaches for a bottle of wine, grabbing a nearby glass before pouring himself something to drink.
“So I’m not the first?” You ask.
“Absolutely not,” He snickers. This relationship would mark the 5th time his parents have tried to set him up with a fellow royal. He has managed to sabotage all previous attempts on account of pissing his parents off.
The girls they set him up with were nice enough, but he had no chemistry with any of them. He felt like sparing them from a relationship full of misery by ruining it before it even started.
“So your parents figured you wouldn’t want to escape a marriage instead of just dating?” You attempt to clarify.
“Bingo,” He sips his wine before handing you the bottle.
“So, does that mean you’re gonna try to escape this?” You accept it and pour yourself a fuller glass, immediately taking a sip after asking the question.
“I think you’d be pretty fucked if I tried to do that. I’m not that much of an asshole,” He shakes his head and laughs it off. Since being hated by his parents was bad enough, Soonyoung didn’t want to become the center of an emerging geopolitical crisis.
It would fuck everyone over, especially you. He could at least admit to himself that you didn’t deserve that.
“That’s nice, I guess,” You smile halfheartedly at him.
“Don’t say I never did anything for you.” He speaks in an unusually flat tone before turning away to face the view of sprawling hills and seemingly endless mountaintops. The sight of the burgeoning nature surrounding the houses below him brought a sense of peace.
Before you asked, he hadn't given the entire arranged marriage process much thought. Sure, he knew that you’d be getting married relatively soon, but he had no idea how to present himself as a good partner. He didn’t exactly know how to move forward knowing that everyone expected him to fail.
“You really are a dickhead,” You mumble.
“You’re not exactly sweet as pie either. Everyone loves you, but you’re fucking miserable to be around.” He responds in a piercing tone.
“Well, if you get to be a cunt, then so should I. It’s not like I’m getting anything out of this,” You shoot back.
You were definitely worse off as an only child. Sure, he was the black sheep of the family, but he could get away with plenty of things as the youngest. His siblings were off impressing the world by ruling the country, getting PhDs, having a shit ton of kids, and generally being upstanding citizens.
However, it didn’t make sense for him to try that hard.
“Your country’s finances won’t go to shit, isn’t that enough?”
His question seems to bring out another layer of frustration for you. “No, I want a husband who gives two shits about me past my bra size, but apparently that’s wishful thinking,” You angrily bite into a strawberry and turn away from him.
“Look, we don’t have to do anything except pretend that we’re in love. So, let’s not do anything past that. Alright?” He proposes. Your face is unreadable, but the way you chew on the inside of your lip shows that he’d never get to know what’s eating away at you.
“Alright,” Your body language seems to retreat completely.
The mood of the date is different after that, and his request seems to render you both silent as you eat the rest of the food without interacting. The view of the countryside makes him wish that he didn’t have to deal with any of this, just live in a tiny house where no one had to remind him about his impending marriage.
The entire day leading up to the Youth Summit Ball left you feeling incredibly rattled.
You know the staff is perfectly capable of executing your vision for the ball as they've done year after year. It was one of your signature events as a royal, and its annual presence in Maritria brought much-needed attention to the country with the presence of young royals and its ever-popular red carpet.
Tonight, however, would be the first time Soonyoung is escorting you as a “longtime” boyfriend in public. You’ve been seen together in public, yes, but this is a public declaration that you are hypothetically in love with him. As a co-chair of the event, nothing could go wrong since many of your peers would be attending with their families.
Nothing could go wrong, thus you needed him to know the extent of your anxiety.
You heard a knock on the door, and you’re accepting them inside without a second thought.
“You wanted to see me?” He asks as he steps inside the dressing room.
You’re thrown by how handsome he looks. You argued with each other over text about what he should wear, he insisted that it didn’t matter. Yet, your color palettes were not to be betrayed. You internally thank yourself for persisting with a navy suit. It contrasted well with his platinum-blonde hair that seemed to attract as many eyes as possible while you were out in public together.
“Yes, I did. You need to behave tonight, I’m not risking anything because you want to get your dick wet,” You scoff.
“Trust me, I already got this little lecture from your mother. I’ll be fine.” He smirks at you, not doing much to quiet the anxiety that was starting to build in your stomach.
“Well, your girlfriend is telling you herself that I’m serious about this,” Your hands automatically move up to his shoulders, smoothing out the nonexistent creases on his jacket. It was still weird to call yourself his girlfriend, the word felt too stiff coming from your mouth.
“And I’m reluctantly listening,” He moves his hand to your bare shoulder, brushing something off with a few light sweeps. You opted to wear a black form fitting gown, the design was relatively simple but it was still eye-catching. You thought you noticed Soonyoung taking glances at you.
“Do you remember everything I told you about tonight?” You remind him.
“Why wouldn’t I remember, Y/N?” He gives you that “are you serious” kind of look and you’re starting to buckle under the pressure.
“I don’t know, maybe you’re nervous or something,” You turn away from him, peering into the mirror to check if there are any flaws with your makeup.
“I don’t get nervous about stuff like this. Are you nervous?” You see him approaching, but you put your focus immediately back on your face.
“What? No, stop, I’m fine,” You purse your lips to check your lipstick. He mimics you, pushing his lips out like a duck and it startles you.
“Those cheeks of yours are telling me otherwise,” He rubs a finger on your cheek and you slap it away almost immediately.
“Stop, Soonyoung, I’m serious. Let’s just get through the night.” You shoot him a warning look and he puts his hands up defensively.
“Okay, no funny business. I promise,” He smiles. It’s not enough to convince you, but your mind is too focused on creating a good outcome for the night that it’s fruitless trying to argue with him any further.
“Ready for a good time?” He offers his hand out to you, and you reluctantly accept it.
“It sounds bad when you say it.”
“You know, she said we should kiss just once to see what it’s like,” His voice was slightly slurred as if the alcohol was slowly taking possession of his words.
“You’re just tipsy,” You throw your purse across the living room and fumble to lock the door shut.
“No, you are, I saw you sneak two shots out of the kitchen,” He points with a shocked smile, “plus a few glasses of chardonnay. You’re not fooling me, princess.”
He was probably right, but that didn’t make it any better. “God forbid that I wanna drink at my own event. Why are you at my place right now?” You’re irritated at his presence almost constantly.
“You wanted me to do everything for you, remember? So you could just hop into bed with no worries,” He waves his arm into the air.
The event went well, accounting for your drunkenness and Soonyoung’s unpredictable nature.
“What are you waiting for then? Take my shoes off,” You flail your arms helplessly, your body is slowly slumping forward but Soonyoung catches you before you stumble.
“Okay, let's sit down, miss bossy. You’re ordering me around when I was a perfect boyfriend tonight,” He guides you to your couch, slowly easing you down onto the seat when you let out an audible sigh of relief.
“You were an average boyfriend who didn’t look stupid in front of paparazzi. Don’t feel too proud of yourself.” Your tolerance for his shenanigans was lower than usual now that you were drunk, and you didn’t feel bad about fighting back at him.
“All of this is extra credit,” He tries to reason himself out of the bare minimum.
“Taking care of me is not extra credit, it’s the standard. You’re supposed to be taking care of me for the rest of my life, not just right now. Idiot,” You roll your eyes and close them briefly before his voice forces you awake again.
“You’re so mean to me, your poor boyfriend is still learning what you like,” He finally takes off your heels and you let out a deep sigh of relief.
“Better?” He asks with a smile. You know that he wants to laugh at you so badly, but you’re too far gone to care.
“Much better,” You close your eyes for a moment before snapping again. “Take off my jewelry.”
He removes your earrings quite easily, but you still feel a bit flustered when he leans toward your ear to focus on undoing the clasps of your necklace.
He settles his face near your neck to fully remove your diamond necklace, he cradles it in his hand and you think you might go slightly insane. He places it on the coffee table gently and looks back at you with a smirk.
“What’s going on?” You pick up on his expression.
“Nothing, I’m gonna do your hair.” He turns your body so your back is facing him now. He’s sort of just feeling around for bobby pins, placing them down on the coffee table whenever he pulls another out. Once he takes out the decorative pins near the top of your head, your hair finally feels free.
“Soonyoung?” You ask suddenly.
“Hmm?” He’s organizing all the hairpins but takes a moment to look up at you.
“Do you think I’m pretty?” Your voice is a bit timid, nervous about how he might react. You would’ve contained yourself in any other circumstance, but now you just needed to head that you were worth complimenting.
“Where’s all this coming from, you’re just fishing for compliments now,” He shakes his head with a smile on his face.
“No, I’m not. It’s just-,” Your thoughts trail off, but Soonyoung catches your attention again with a gentle hand on your thigh. You don’t jump to move it away.
“Everybody was looking at us, but some people looked at us like I wasn’t meant to be with you. Is that true? Am I not pretty enough to be with you?” You feel increasingly insecure the more you elaborate. You didn’t think you’d feel this upset about it, but it meant your work was failing. You weren’t a believable couple and it was obvious to you now.
“Y/N, don’t say that. You’re beautiful,” His voice is noticeably softer.
“Not beautiful enough to sleep with. You wouldn’t sleep with me,” You rub your eyes with your hands and Soonyoung removes them from your face, laughing at the traces of makeup on the sides of your fingers. It seems like he still caught what you said though when he stops laughing.
“And that’s not the point. You’re just saying shit now, all of the guys in there would be lucky to even kiss you,” He insists. He stands up suddenly and walks toward your room. You assume he gets up to find makeup wipes, but you sit with his statement in the meantime.
You contemplate if you’d even want to kiss any of the royals who came to the party. You knew your standards were high and wondered if that would chase them off before they even had a chance to kiss you. He comes back and immediately wipes across your face the moment he sits down. His approach is slightly rough, but you couldn’t exactly get mad at him. He was just doing what you asked of him.
He’s analyzing if he got all of the makeup off when you speak up.
“But you’re not lucky?” You remark quietly.
That makes him clear his throat. You can even spot a hint of blush across his cheeks. It appears that you’ve riled him up slightly.
“I am lucky,” He lowers his head to rub the back of his neck with his hand, “You give me a run for my money.”
“Show me how lucky you are.” You continue to tempt him to see how he’ll react.
“I thought you wanted me to behave tonight?” He’s almost willing to act, but he still waits for your approval.
“I do, but she said we should kiss for practice,” You swallow lightly in anticipation. He rests his forehead against yours and you can hear his breath hitch in his throat.
You’ve been good, you’ve been so good all of your life. You don’t think you’ve done anything worth batting an eye at for your entire adolescence and young adulthood, but it was exhausting.
It was exhausting to be good, the voice of reason, the example of a perfect daughter to your country.
You weren’t in love with him, absolutely not.
Yet, the curiosity about what his lips tasted like made you want to be rebellious.
“I didn’t think you heard me.” He chuckled softly.
“I did,” You nodded your head against his. Soonyoung didn’t ask for permission to be bad, he just did it. That’s what runs through your brain when your lips meet his. Neither of you move for a moment and you’re afraid that you messed up.
That is until you feel Soonyoung’s hand cradling the back of your neck. He’s tilting into the kiss and you know he’s comfortable by the way his tongue slips into your mouth.
He tastes like tequila mostly, but there’s a hint of sweetness that you suspect comes from the dessert table at the party.
It feels so much better than you expected, now you know why girls couldn’t get enough of him. Even if it is just practice, he still took it far more seriously than you expected.
You haven’t had many kisses that were worth remembering, but this was something spectacular.
You know he’s kissed people far more times than you have, but there’s still a hesitant energy there that you can’t describe.
Did you make him nervous?
He pulls away first and it surprises you. He takes a deep breath and looks at you with tired eyes.
“Just a practice kiss, right?” He whispers.
“Just practice.” You affirm, pulling your head back. You’re not sure why it felt so disappointing to not have another kiss. You were sobering up which made the realization even worse.
“I’ll leave now before you kick me out.” He stands up from the couch and you don’t follow him. He makes it to the door and turns around.
“Don’t stay up all night reading thinking you can fight a hangover, go to bed.” He points at you with a teasing finger.
“Don’t lecture me, Kwon Soonyoung.” You stand up and walk toward your bedroom, ignoring whatever expression is on his face. You don’t look back until you hear the front door shut.
He didn’t say goodbye and that was probably for the best. You didn’t need any other memory from this part of the night to linger in your brain.
You rush back to the living room to lock the door again and sulk back to your bedroom. You eye the novel on your bedside table, you left it there earlier in the day to pick up whether you ended up drunk from the party or not.
Damn, he was good.
There were now multiple days, even weeks, between your shared schedules with him, and the more time that went by after the kiss only made you want to see him again.
Of course, he was friendly to you in public, and you were both able to handle public events with ease, but
the timing left you with many questions, and one stuck out in particular.
Why was he nervous to kiss you?
Today, he requested a private schedule for the two of you before he left Maritria early next week. There was a sneaking suspicion that it was the proposal since there wouldn’t be another reason for you to be alone.
He never wants to be left alone with you, it’s all about putting on an act for others that makes it so thrilling for him.
That’s what you try to tell yourself, at least.
“You’re here,” He eyes you carefully as you approach the entrance of the private garden. He’s surrounded by endless blooms, it’s almost suffocating how romantic it’s supposed to feel.
“I’m here because you want me here,” You offer quietly.
“Right, well I don’t want to waste any time. I’m sure my princess has lots of work to do today.”
On any other day, he’d be right, but the underlying suspicion of his true intentions made you want to linger.
He grabs your hand before you have another second to contemplate your feelings.
“I know that I’m not the person you wanted this to be from, but that’s how things have turned out. We both can’t get what we want, but I want to make this a good memory for us regardless of the situation.”
He gets down on one knee before asking. “So, Y/N, will you marry me?”
His hands held a small black velvet box and he quickly opened it to reveal a stunning oval shaped diamond ring. There are definitely more carats than you've ever seen on an engagement ring, and the gold band it sits upon feels equally regal.
It almost makes you sick from how ornate and gaudy it is, but it’s yours.
“You know this is the part where you say yes,” He clears his throat.
“Give me a second,” You mumble. You can’t see his glance, instead choosing to look at the ring. Everything else felt like a game before, but this was real.
He is proposing to you, offering a ring to you to signify a love that wasn’t actually real. That kind of sappy affectionate love you dreamed of would never come to fruition, possibly for the rest of your life.
It’s a realization that is entirely too bleak for the moment.
You’re meant to be happy, but if your parents were here they’d pick apart how long it took you to respond.
“Yes, I’ll marry you,” You force a smile onto your face to appease him. It doesn’t seem like he notices the pained expression within it, only offering a content sigh.
“Great.” He rises to his feet to place the ring on the appropriate finger. It feels like it’s all over now, you can imagine the rest of your future laid ahead of you on a set path.
The thought of taking constant publicity trips as a couple, having future heirs to the throne, and the idea of bringing him into Maritria’s lineage makes you wonder if you did everything you could to save yourself.
There is no out, just you, him, and the impenetrable distance between you both.
You wonder how a couple might build a life with an unstable foundation.
“Should we kiss?” His question brings you back to your senses.
“What?”
“For the camera, we should kiss.” He points to a photographer making themselves known from a nearby bush.
You swallow the lump in your throat and nod.
This is your duty, right?
You pull him close and kiss him, trying to ignite the small spark you felt when he was at your apartment.
Yet, the feeling doesn’t come and you pull away from him gently after a few moments.
“We just need some photos for social media and then you’re free to go.” The photographer reassures you with a kind tone.
You snap into professional mode in order to speed up the process. Your hand rests on his chest, angling it slightly to show off the ring. You force a smile, trying to indulge in the fantasy of it all. Once he gets a few shots of that pose, you turn back to look into Soonyoung’s eyes.
He was unfortunately quite handsome, it’s a shame that nothing else about him could make you happy.
“What are you thinking about?” His questioning pulls you out of your head once again, but you’re not sure what to tell him.
Being honest with him means making a sweet moment uncomfortable, and lying to him means letting your pain continue to simmer.
You go for the latter, to spare everyone a difficult moment. “Nothing. The ring is beautiful,” You shift the conversation with a quiet tone in order to deflect the topic off of you. He smiles widely, his face tells you that he didn’t expect you to like it one bit.
“I let my team take the reins with it since I don’t know you that well.” He responds so earnestly, and you’re not sure if he understands how hurtful that sounds.
You take it in stride though. “Well, it’s beautiful.”
He only nods and takes a moment to adjust his suit jacket.
You watch him brush over the fabric with his hands, wondering how in the world you ended up here. Even if things were different, fate would probably still bring you into Soonyoung’s orbit in another way.
Regardless, it’s enough to make you even more upset. Once the photographer is satisfied with the variety of shots, you’re about to leave when you feel Soonyoung’s hand touch your shoulder.
“Hey.” He turns your body to face him with his hand. You’re not sure how much longer you can stand in front of him without crying.
“We’re still on for this weekend, right?”
You can’t be bothered to remember what he means, but it’s best just to agree. It’s not like you had much of a choice.
“Yeah. I’ll see you then.” You nod at him before leaving. The moment you turn your back, you can’t hold back the stray tears falling onto your cheeks. You can only hope that he can’t hear your sniffling.
Now that the proposal news was officially out, your life had an even bigger microscope on it than usual. You’re used to being judged on a public scale, however, there were millions of people who were obsessed with Soonyoung that now wanted to know every single piece of information about his new fiancée.
Your Instagram posts and tweets had an influx of new activity that you could barely keep up with, and the new attention was starting to work into every corner of your life, even the time you spent with Soonyoung.
“Can you tell your fans to stop making video edits of me?” You stuff your phone into your jacket pocket in slight annoyance. You were genuinely trying to enjoy the private dates you had with Soonyoung, even if they were heavily guarded by staff. It was only right that you treated these outings as the dates they were, opportunities to get to know him better in order to connect with him that would hopefully prevent any issues further down the line.
Today, the location of the date was your choice and the staff had elected to leave you alone in light of the proposal news. Thus, you decide to take Soonyoung to a small beach on the outskirts of Maritria’s capital city. You’ve spent many days throughout your teenage years in your favorite spot, a cove in a hidden part of the beach. You figured that it’d be smart to let him in on a few things that you enjoyed, namely one of your most treasured spots in the country.
“That means they like you, and since when are you afraid of attention?” His interest is now piqued as he places his head in his hand to face you.
“Since always, I’m not exactly a Kwon Soonyoung-level attention whore,” You scoff.
“I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” He speaks in an exaggerated sad tone, accompanied by his pretending to cry. He turns his head to face you, sunglasses attempting to hide the goofiness peeking through.
“Still, I mean this is all a lot. I’m not exactly important enough to warrant 700,000 new followers.” You attempt to redirect the conversation.
As soon as the remark leaves your mouth, Soonyoung takes his sunglasses off. He looks at you with a confused glance, as if your self-deprecation was a personal attack on him.
“What are you talking about? You’re a princess and a genuinely nice one at that. That’s pretty hard to come by these days,” He compliments you. It pulls at your heartstrings very slightly, enough to absentmindedly check for a blush on your cheeks before snapping out of it.
“You wouldn’t know, you don’t see anything past the title before you sleep with these girls,” You attempt to defuse the response again, but he’s prepared.
“First of all, those days are behind me. I’m a proper engaged man now,” His thumb grazes your engagement ring and it sends a chill down your spine.
“And second, that statement is funny coming from someone who’s marrying me for financial stability,” He pokes your shoulder and you move to cover it.
“Correction, my country’s financial stability. You’ll have to get used to living here once we’re married,” You clarify.
“Who said we’re living in Maritria?” He argues instantly. You let out a sigh and try to understand the perspective he’s going to bring up.
“Soonyoung, wouldn’t it be smart to show how much the country’s condition would improve with you here?”
“Yes, but imagine being in Arinorin. The optics of giving you away to the country that saved yours seem pretty positive to me.” He suggests. While idealistic, the perspective is shortsighted. He didn’t necessarily have a shining future back in his home country considering his reputation and lack of communication with his parents.
“Even though you’ll never be king?” You didn’t mean for the question to sound so mean, but it’s true.
He was not the country’s future king, not unless there were dire circumstances that would force him into the position.
He scoffs. “Way to rub it in.” He looks into the distance, not acknowledging your glance anymore.
“I’m just saying. At least here, you’ll have the chance to have more of the public’s attention. There’s nothing to fight over, it’s just me,” You add sympathetically.
There’s a lingering silence that you don’t want to fill for the moment. You can tell he’s mulling over your words by the way he’s looking down at his hands, playing with his sunglasses idly.
“You know, you don’t have to stay there. Not to be that person, but if the idea of staying makes you feel worse, then what’s the point?” You soften your tone in an attempt to bring him back.
“You don’t know what it’s like,” He shakes his head resolutely. You feel your window of opportunity to try and comfort him closing rapidly.
“Ok, you’re right, but I’ve kept up with the news. I know a bit about how my future in-laws have treated you. You’ll be okay here,” You place a hand on his shoulder.
“I think they’ve wanted me to leave for a while, honestly. I’d go somewhere where they don’t have to think about me anymore.” He scratches the back of his neck before focusing on a small tidepool that sat directly below the both of you.
His statement is enough to now squeeze his shoulder, gently rubbing it to show your support.
“I’m sorry.” You offer quietly.
“It’s not your fault. I don’t think being a problem child fits me very well anymore.”
“You can reinvent yourself here if that sounds alright with you?” You offer and he laughs quietly.
He smirks. “I’ll think about it,” His slightly hopeful tone makes you feel at ease.
Any true affection toward him still feels too foreign, but verbal reassurance is a step you’re willing to take if it means your shared future is relatively peaceful.
The trips back and forth to each other’s countries were becoming a blur of wedding planning, being present at each other’s public engagements, and trying to get to know each other. It was becoming such a tedious process that any opportunity to rest was taken without hesitation.
The big plan for the current trip to Arinorin was to have a joint dinner with both of your immediate families.
You waited endlessly, but Soonyoung never showed up for dinner. It was embarrassing trying to subtly figure out where he was by going to the bathroom and frantically texting him. When that didn’t work, calls went unanswered until you were forced to give up and return to the table in defeat. He wasn’t answering and you were left to deal with two confused families on your own, attempting to answer questions that you had no answers to. Dinner eventually proceeded with an unyielding amount of attention on you, but thankfully, the rest of his family seemed to accept you.
Yet, it was ultimately embarrassing to attempt to cover his tracks and defend his actions throughout the night.
Thus, your post-dinner plans were to relax in your room and attempt to forget how wild the night had been. A knock on the door interrupted those plans almost immediately.
You open the door to see one of the guards that have been assigned to you since the arranged marriage proceedings had begun.
“Sorry to bother you, princess. I’ve just received word of a disturbance with the prince downstairs that needs your attention.” His tone was especially solemn, so you didn’t want to leave him waiting for long.
“Alright, I’ll be ready in a minute.” You nod at him and thank your lucky stars that you’ve already changed into more comfortable clothing.
With his assistance, you were soon traveling through the endless halls of the castle to find your fiancé. It wasn’t long before he came into view, sitting on a bench with his legs tucked up to his chest, arms wrapped around the front with his hands clasped tight. He was clearly drunk, sighing to himself before looking up.
“Y/N! Hi!” He exclaims, waving at you wildly.
“Fucking hell,” You exhale under your breath. You’re extremely grateful that he wasn’t out wandering the streets, clearly under careful watch by his guards.
“Can you give us a moment?” You look around at the surrounding guards. They nod curtly and dismiss themselves, retreating to a nearby room where they could still intervene quickly if needed.
You turn your attention back to him once the door closes. “Where were you?”
“I was out with Seungkwannie and, um, Seokmin. It was so much fun,” He laughed brightly, eyes almost disappearing from his smile.
“We were supposed to have dinner with our families. Remember?” You hold onto your curt tone.
He shakes his head immediately. “They didn’t wanna see me, they don’t care about me.”
You were starting to lose your patience. While you understood his hesitation to face his family, it wasn’t an excuse to leave you to navigate so many different dynamics on your own. This was supposed to show your families all of the efforts that had been made thus far, and there were plenty of efforts that were beginning to show naturally.
He had become more affectionate in public, it was less uncomfortable to smile at him and speak with each other kindly. It wasn’t real, obviously not, but unsuspecting eyes wouldn’t have known any better.
You were almost visibly in love.
“How about how I feel, Soonyoung? I had to deal with everyone alone, deal with everything by myself. That was so hard for me, but you just ignored it and got drunk.” Your voice was tight, barely allowing yourself to feel anything besides anger.
“I’m sorry,” He sighs before running through his hair. He’s affected by it, as his posture starts to wilt like a dying plant.
“You should be. That hurt my feelings a lot,” You felt the intended venom of your words dissipate on your tongue until nothing was left.
What was the point in yelling when he wouldn’t remember any of it anyways?
Honestly, you were disappointed in him. You had earnestly tried to connect with him, and it finally felt like he was trying to do the same thing. Yet, he let you down. You didn’t ask for much of him and adjusted your expectations for him at every step of the way, but he couldn’t do it.
He couldn’t be better for you.
“Was being selfish,” His pout seems to get deeper somehow.
“Yeah, you were,” You whisper. You finally take a seat next to him on the bench, taking a deep breath. The silence between the two of you almost felt labored, as if the air held all of the emotions you were both feeling at once.
You shouldn’t be babysitting your fiancé like this, that much was true. If he couldn’t even attend a family dinner, what did that mean for the marriage?
“You don’t have to worry about the wedding. I’ll take care of everything,” You mutter quietly.
“What?” He sits up in surprise.
“I can’t trust you, Soonyoung. You don’t care about this and you clearly don’t care about me, so why would I let you plan any part of this?”
“I can try, just let me try,” He pleads quietly. You can feel the desperation in his tone, but you can’t budge.
“I’ve let you try and this is what happens. I don’t know if this is how you picture our marriage, but if this is it then consider us strangers. I can’t do this, not like this.” You can’t look at him as you stand up.
Your body goes into autopilot as you knock on the door where the guards are stationed, letting them out so you can both separate for the night. You gently request for him to be taken home before starting the journey back to your room, wiping away tears that welled up in your eyes without a second thought.
You hear him calling your name, but what point is there in turning around? You didn’t have the energy for drunk pleas and broken promises anymore.
If you couldn’t stop everything and everyone from falling apart, you could at least try to protect yourself from the wreckage.
For the first time, Soonyoung hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you.
It never felt good to be ignored by anyone, but getting ignored by you? It had to be a new kind of pain.
Despite his unbothered facade, he didn’t mind your company at all. He quite enjoyed your little quirks, small things that other people probably wouldn’t notice.
In the chaos of your intertwined schedules, there were moments where he’d just look at you to take in your features for himself, and not anyone else.
He loved seeing how peaceful you looked while you slept during flights or the way your cheeks lifted when you smiled. Since he couldn’t have you to himself often, he could hold solace in the smaller moments.
Admittedly, he had been in love with you for a while now, and he could pinpoint the exact moment when he realized it.
He mentioned to you offhandedly that he’d lost a beloved stuffed tiger toy as a kid, but he’d accepted the loss and attempted to move on. He didn’t think you’d remember the anecdote, much less do anything about it.
Yet, you handed him a silver gift bag while on a flight with him.
When he unwrapped the tissue paper to the sight of the exact make of the tiger he had, his heart momentarily stilled in awe.
“I found the original manufacturer and they still make them. The certain model you had is a collector’s item now, so it took a little while to find but it wasn’t impossible.” You explained everything calmly, your hand propped your head up on the armrest of your seat. You lazily smiled at him as he admired it in his hands.
“This is very kind of you, thank you,” He couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face.
His parents hadn’t thought of trying to replace it for him after all these years, and he surely didn’t expect it from you. The gesture is just so romantic, even if you just wanted to write it off as simply a nice thing to do.
He didn’t cry until he was alone after the day’s activities were finished, realizing just how important it was to him. You were so nice, much nicer than he deserved from his future wife given his standoffish behavior.
There was no reason why he couldn’t confess his true feelings to you at this point. The wedding was fast approaching, sooner than he’d like to admit.
Details about the ceremony were quickly ironed out between your shared staff before he could think twice about asking, and you held to your word that he wasn’t allowed to get involved in wedding planning.
He didn’t remember much from the night you found him drunk, but it was clear that wedding planning was off-limits and you were extremely wary of being alone with him. Thus, he had to make his apology meaningful, and he couldn’t wait until after the wedding. He was determined to mend the relationship before you walked down the aisle.
He started by sending you various bouquets, all carefully chosen by him.
That was a kind gesture, right?
He thought so until he saw you throwing one of the bouquets into a dumpster from afar.
All of his apologetic texts to you were swiftly ignored as well, forcing him to switch gears completely. It was clear that you were subtly hinting at an in-person apology, which was daunting but not impossible for him to do.
He hadn’t been back to your apartment since the night of the Youth Summit Ball, a major oversight on his part. Yet, he figured there was no better time than the present to start taking things more seriously.
He held the bouquet of white and red carnations tightly in his hand, fingers playing gently with the paper wrapping as he sat in his car.
He was optimistic that the rain would hold out until he was hopefully let into your apartment. Yet, he ignored the raindrops periodically hitting his raincoat as he walked up the stairs to your brownstone.
The moment he knocked on the door, it was as if the universe decided to fuck him over. The occasional raindrops turned into a full downpour, and he scrambled to figure out what to do with himself. There wasn’t any awning to hide under, so he attempted to conceal the flowers from the rain, unzipping his jacket enough to sit the damp bouquet on his chest before zipping it up again.
It felt like a lifetime before you opened the door, and the sight of you rendered him speechless.
This was the first time in so long that he was facing his fear of resolving the neverending conflicts in his life.
“Hi.” He smiles despite your unreadable expression.
“Hi,” You were confused, rightfully so. After passive-aggressively sending indirect apologies, he decided to skip everything else and just show up.
“Are you busy?”
“No, but I don’t think I have a choice,” You move to the side so that he can enter your apartment. He takes the cue and makes himself comfortable in the living room.
“These are for you.” He hands the flowers to you, and the hesitancy is clear on your face.
“You aren’t giving up on the flowers, are you?” You ask with a judgmental tone. He doesn’t feel completely deterred when you place them on the dining table instead of throwing them out.
“Well, these are your favorite.”
“This doesn’t bail you out, you know.” You give him a knowing look.
He sighs, steadying his breath before speaking. “I know, and you deserve an apology for everything.” When he notices that you're focusing intently on his words, he feels confident about continuing.
“I know that I’ve made you feel isolated, and I’m truly sorry for that. I don’t want you to feel like you’re alone in this, and I want to make this marriage work. You deserve to marry someone who’s willing to admit their mistakes and grow with you. I’m ready to be that person if you want me.” By the time he finishes, he knows that he was completely honest with you. He’s wanted to be upfront with you for so long, but it wouldn’t have been worth it if he didn’t express himself properly.
You let out a contemplative sigh. He could tell that you didn’t want to reject him, it’s as if your face was processing his statement just as swiftly as your brain.
“As much as I appreciate this, I don’t want to be in a loveless marriage.” You said.
He swallows lightly, but he’s still understanding of your perspective. He knew that he had to lay everything out for you before it was too late.
“Who said it was loveless?” He says.
“What?”
The revelation seems to catch you off guard, but it's not surprising to him. Soonyoung is a happy-go-lucky kind of guy, and this kind of confession feels completely out of his emotional range.
“I love you, and I should've told you sooner. I regret not proving that you could trust me, and you have every right to not have any faith in me.” He walks toward you, internally pleading that the lack of distance will help you change your mind.
“I do have the right,” You mutter under your breath with a chuckle. He lifts your chin slightly with his finger, forcing your eyes to meet his again.
“I will prove to you every day for the rest of my life that I love you.” His eyes are completely sincere, showing that he’s willing to provide the romance that you’ve been grasping for. He can tell that you can’t let him in this easily, he has to earn you completely.
“Every day?” You question him.
“Every single day,” He reiterates. He means it too, his mind was already thinking of dozens of ways that he could start making it up to you.
“That’s pretty tempting, honestly.” You tilt your head in curiosity.
“Anything holding you back?”
“I don’t think so. You just can’t keep coming into my apartment soaking wet anymore,” You scrunch your nose at his appearance and gently tousle his hair, earning a giggle from him.
“That wasn’t planned. It was pretty romantic though, right?” He can’t fight the smile that spreads across his face as he asks.
“A little bit. I forgive you, by the way,” You admit.
He exhales and runs a hand through his hair with shaky confidence. He couldn’t be certain of your decision, so the relief he feels at your words is palpable.
“Does that mean I get to see all the spreadsheets about the wedding now?” He knew he was testing his luck by asking, especially because the process had been under lock and key even before restricting his access to wedding-related documents.
“Yeah, it’ll take some stress off my back. It’s giving me headaches just thinking about everything coming together,” You rub your forehead and close your eyes for a moment before looking back at him.
“You’ve been stressed like this and you haven’t told me?” He frowns.
“I was mad at you, so all my other feelings just kept building up. I’m sorry,” You shake your head, immediately covering your face with your hands. He pries them off just as quickly, pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand.
“It’s okay, love. I am more than willing to help you, I promise,” He nods eagerly with a grin.
“Okay. I like that name, you know,” You finally crack a smile and his own smile widens.
“Figured you would.” He’s leaned closer to your face, but there’s enough space to move away in case you reject him. “Can I kiss you?” He asks gently.
“Please,” You whisper.
It’s all he needs to complete the distance between your lips and the feeling of you is almost overwhelmingly beautiful. He’s so lucky at this moment, feeling your hands push his head deeper into the kiss. He was too cautious last time, but now he’ll never take another kiss of yours for granted, not when it feels this good.
He would do anything to make sure you felt loved and cared for, no matter how long it took to earn your full trust.
“I just need a moment alone, if that’s alright?” The question comes out a bit shakier than you imagined, but you can’t seem to quiet your nerves. Your wedding day has already taken you on an emotional rollercoaster despite not going down the aisle yet.
As you view yourself in the gown that you meticulously picked out along with the detailed hair and makeup that took hours to complete, nothing looks out of place.
Yet, your heart feels unanchored.
Your relationship with Soonyoung was getting better every day, but it seems like it was all going a little too well. Even though your relationship was transforming from a state of emergency into a promising romance, it was all catching up to you at the moment. Your mutual efforts to improve your relationship had been fruitful, giving you both the confidence to get married without feeling insecure.
You wouldn’t regret it, right? You needed to be certain that you wouldn’t.
“Of course, Princess.” Your head staff member agrees without question before exiting the room along with a few team members who were assisting you for the past few hours.
Your brain can only think of him. The tradition of spending the night before the wedding apart from each other felt more like torture than anything else, as you’ve come to appreciate his comforting presence next to you. In the last few weeks leading up to the wedding, he’s made such a genuine effort to intertwine your lives together that spending time apart felt futile.
A knock on the door breaks you out of your trance. Before you can ask who’s there, Soonyoung’s voice fills the silence.
“Is it a bad time?” His voice makes your heart flutter before you can even look at him.
“You can’t see me before the wedding, it’s bad luck,” You attempt to fight the smile on your face but you don’t allow yourself to look at him.
“Even if my bride has cold feet?” He presses on, his footsteps quietly approaching you.
You turn to reveal yourself to him and his face lights up.
“They’re not cold, they’re lukewarm,” You smile coyly at him. He grabs your hands and scans your body with wondrous eyes, his gaze seeming to land on every detail of the dress before meeting your eyes again.
“You look so,” His voice trails off. You’re sure that you can read his mind, he’s practically grinning from ear to ear. It makes you feel a bit shy, you can feel your cheeks heat up from his complimentary words.
“You’re really inflating my ego here,” You shake your head gently, but the feeling of his hand grazing your cheek pulls your gaze to him. Despite your best efforts, it’s still hard to fight the inner voice that tells you that he doesn’t mean it, that he’s only saying it because it’s something you want to hear.
Yet, his responses are just unflinchingly earnest that it makes you wonder why you ever felt that way in the first place.
“You just look so stunning,” His voice begins to shake before he clears his throat, “I just can’t believe that you’re mine.”
You were certain that you’d never seen that much sincerity in his eyes up until now, but it started to quiet the lingering fears that still sat in the pit of your stomach. He was absolutely smitten with you, to the point where his smile didn’t go away while you were talking to him.
“You can’t cry yet, you have to save it for the cameras.” You chuckle in an effort to push away his tears, but his eyes were still glossy.
“I can’t help it. You’ve worked really hard on all of this and it’s coming together so well,” He sighs with content. Honestly, you needed to hear that it was all worth it, especially from him. Although he’d been offering reassurance more often than not, the sentiment felt different knowing that you were minutes away from getting married.
“I wanna kiss you so badly, but I can’t fuck up my makeup.” You pout. He instinctively places his hands on your shoulders, moving them up and down to make you feel grounded with his touch.
“We can kiss, you know. There are no rules to any of this.” He attempts to get you out of your tradition-focused mindset with a low tone. You do want to indulge him though, considering that this was the first time you'd been alone with him all morning.
“Just go below the mouth.” You nod and he smirks, immediately placing his lips on your jaw to see how you’d react. It pulls a soft moan from your throat, and your reaction encourages him to go down your neck, leaving kisses wherever his lips can find skin. You started to let go of the responsibilities lingering over your head and focus on your fiance’s tongue leaving open-mouth kisses on your cleavage.
He’s practically doing everything but undressing you and his eagerness makes it harder to pull away, but you have to.
“Babe,” You whisper.
“Hmm?”
“Later,” You have to hold onto your resolve or else you’ll give in, and you can’t let your first time be in a dressing room.
“Later?” His eyes perk up like an excited puppy. The implication of the consummation of your marriage feels daring, it will serve as the reward after dealing with the decadent fanfare of the day.
“Yes, later. I promise.” You nod and he somehow looks even happier than before he walked in. He focuses on your lips but leaves a kiss on your cheek instead.
“I’ll see you out there, okay?” He presses one last kiss to your palm before heading towards the door.
“Okay,” You wave him off and watch him disappear with a smile on your face.
It’s clear that you don’t have anything to worry about.
“You’re sure that you don’t wanna come in with me?” Soonyoung calls from the pool.
“Yeah,” You nod with a hand placed above your eyes, acting as a sun visor since you couldn’t find a hat to put on.
You were two days into your honeymoon, tucked away at a small island resort that mostly isolated you from the outside world.
The wedding had thankfully gone far better than you could have imagined. He stopped you multiple times throughout the reception to tell you how beautiful it was, how happy he was to be in the moment with you, and how well you planned it all. It was a day that felt sun-soaked, enveloped in a love that was starting to soften and lose the sharp edges that had restrained it before.
Despite all of the kind attention from family and friends throughout the day, it was evened out with the constant presence of staff and castle officials that made it all a bit overwhelming.
Thankfully, the honeymoon began the next day and you’d have to force all responsibilities out of your head for the next week.
“You’re thinking about something, probably too many things,” He assumes correctly.
You scoff and turn away for a moment before facing him again. “You can’t be this good at analyzing me, we’ve only been married for less than a week.”
He laughs before swimming closer to the edge of the pool to meet you. “That’s my job, angel.”
“But you’re right, I am thinking too much about you moving in and all the press stuff we have to do,” You’re rubbing at your temples just thinking about how much effort it’s all going to take.
“Hey, look at me.” He calls out softly. You reluctantly place your hands at your sides, trying to take in his words.
“You’ll have plenty of time to worry about this, but this is the only time you’ll be on your honeymoon. Hopefully,” He shows his teeth and it succeeds in making you laugh. He smiles back at you before continuing.
“So maybe we can swim together if you’d like?” He tries again, knowing you’ll say yes. You take one last sigh and nod.
“Yeah, just give me a second.” You take your coverup off to reveal a solid black bikini he hadn’t seen yet. You discard the coverup on a nearby chair before turning to face him.
He eyes you for a moment before you clear your throat. “Slow down, loverboy, we’re supposed to be swimming!”
“Just admiring how beautiful my wife is, that’s all,” He bites back a smile but ultimately lets it show. You walk down the pool stairs until you’re swimming next to him. He only stares at you for a second before pulling you in for a kiss.
You’re caught off guard, letting out a small squeak when his tongue slides into your mouth but you give in to the feeling soon enough. You let your fingers card through the back of his hair, pushing yourself further into the kiss. You feel his hands wander across your ass and you let out a moan.
“Just wanted me in here so you could fuck me?” You whisper, finally pulling away from the kiss to catch your breath.
“You caught me,” He whispers back and proceeds to kiss down your neck, not hesitating to leave marks that force moans out of your throat.
“For fuck’s sake,” You sigh. You didn’t need to have control right now, you didn’t want it when he was making you feel this good just by kissing you. You thank your lucky stars that the vacation house is somewhat isolated because you can’t pretend to hold back the noises you’re making.
He picks up on this and presses his erection against your thigh, causing you to hold your breath. “Where do you want me, sweetheart?” He asks quietly. Your train of thought can’t even start because he’s staring right at you, brushing his thumb against your lip.
“Chairs,” You mutter. He bites his lip and turns to look at the unoccupied beach chairs lined up near the sliding glass door that leads back into the house.
“Okay,” He nods. He leads you back to the pool stairs before taking your hand and helping you out of the water. You both don’t think about drying off before he sits you down onto the chair, pulling off your bikini bottom without a second thought. You watch him with spread legs, taking in the sight of his glistening chest and abs. He seemed just as eager as you, taking off his swim trunks in the blink of an eye. The sight of his cock makes your head spin, so you force yourself to make eye contact with him.
“Are you okay, baby?” He asks earnestly. He must not know how hot he is because you’re rendered speechless. His freshly dyed black hair is slightly spiky, and it doesn’t help when he runs his hand through it. It all just goes to your clit, and you’re certain that the pressure will make you explode.
“Yeah, I’m good,” You force your mouth into a smile to replace the incredulous look on your face. He nods and settles into the space between your legs, quickly spreading hands across your thighs.
“Have I told you how pretty you look today?” His eyes are practically dripping with lust, but you want to let him know that the feeling is mutual.
“Yeah, maybe for the 100th time today, but you look even prettier,” Your compliment comes out a bit shy, but it still makes his eyes light up.
“I don’t think that’s possible,” He lets his thumb graze your clit and you whimper. He lingers there for a few more moments before dragging two fingers down your entrance. He ponders for a moment before pushing inside, and the new sensation makes you cry out. The angled position of the chair makes his movements feel even more powerful, and his fingers gliding against your tight walls already have you in shambles.
“It’s not possible because you’re the prettiest person in the world, and I get all your cute noises to myself, right?” His question makes the coil in your stomach harder to ignore.
“Yeah,” You moan. He leans in for a kiss, capturing your lips easily while thrusting his fingers even deeper. How does he know your body like this? Sure, you’ve made out a few times but he's never touched you like this before.
Maybe it’s the anticipation that’s causing him to show out like this, he’s trying to impress you because of how long you’ve had to wait for this. You let your arms drape behind his neck for a moment before clutching onto his back.
You hear him moan from the scratches you leave on the expanse of his back, you savor the noises as they start to blend in with your moans.
“Gonna cum,” You breathe into his ear. He can tell how tense you are around him, and your eyes are becoming frantic from the impending pleasure.
“Just relax baby, take a deep breath, and let go for me. I know you can do it,” His encouragement lets you cum immediately, arching your back off the chair with a soft grunt escaping your lips. Your orgasm washes over you all at once and his fingers only slow down a bit, allowing you to feel every single bit of pleasure that he could pull out of you.
You take a few deep breaths and focus on his eyes once again. You start to register his face again as he strokes your cheek. “Are you ok? Are you up for more?” He asks hesitantly.
“Yeah, I just didn’t think you’d get me like this so early, that’s all.” You cover your eyes with your hands for a moment before looking at him again. He has you so shy that you can barely look at him. It’s hard to admit to yourself that you haven’t cum like that in a very long time, but if he’s making you feel like this so early on into the marriage, you don’t think you’ll ever be disappointed.
“Well, that’s good. I just wanna take care of you,” He reassures you sweetly. His eyes are so full of love that it makes your heart pound, swallowing in anticipation.
He meant it when he said he’d take care of you, he had barely let you do anything for yourself since you arrived at the vacation house. It was so adorable that you didn’t have the heart to stop him. It was nice to let him live up to his promise of showing his love for you instead of constantly feeling distrustful of his actions.
Of course, there would eventually be moments where you’d disagree or argue with each other, but it wouldn’t be out of spite like before. You’re lost in thought until he presses a kiss to your cheek.
“Where’d you go, pretty?” He whispers, his face now a few inches away from yours. It somehow makes you even more flustered than before.
“Just thinking about how much I love you,” You admit with a smile. His eyes widen at the confession and you burst into a fit of giggles.
“You love me?” He asks in surprise.
“I love you.” You state it confidently. You mean it too, and it feels so easy to express it to him. You knew you loved him since the wedding, he cried at the sight of you walking down the aisle and it helped you realize his sincerity. He seems to let the words settle into the air before giving you a response.
“I love you too. It feels good to say that,” He laughs at his own confession. With a mutual confession out in the open, the air somehow feels lighter.
“Can I show you how much I love you by fucking you properly?” He asks. You can only laugh and nod your head at how sweet it is.
“Not out here though. I need you in bed right now!” He exclaims, sweeping you up into a bridal style hold. You let out a scream before bursting into laughter, you can only let yourself get carried back into the house without protest.
----
“Fuck, right there, please,” You whimper, eyes screwed shut. The feeling of his cock stuffed inside you was indescribably good, it was nearly enough to make you cry. Once he got you on the bed, he wasted no time filling you up and easily pulled moans out of your throat.
He pressed your legs up to your chest, making sure that he was completely inside of you. You quickly learned that your husband had incredible stamina, and you were definitely gonna cum again sooner rather than later.
“You’re so good for me, my love. You don’t know how many times I’ve thought of having you like this,” He whispers in your ear. The sound of his balls slapping against your skin brought something primal out of you, you just want to suck him inside of your walls even deeper. You were barely holding on, but he kept pushing you even closer to the edge.
He leaned down to leave marks in the crook of your neck, leaving a hand free to fondle your breast. It was as if he combined every possible move just to drive you insane and it was working.
“Gonna cum for me, sweetheart?” His voice is laced with something even deeper than lust, it almost felt demonic the way he asked you.
“Yes, please let me cum, please,” The words spilled out of your mouth, your voice was shaking along with your body. He was practically rocking you back and forth with the impact of his cock, hitting that particular spot deeper every time.
“Go on, then. Cum for daddy,” He grants you permission. The nickname makes you flood his cock, screaming again as your orgasm takes over you. He pulls out in time for you to squirt on his cock, leaving you even more surprised than before.
“Holy shit,” You whimper. He looks so pleased with himself, but also shocked that he was able to push you that far.
He lets you both recover for a few minutes, but you know he hasn’t cum yet. “I’m kinda close, baby, is it alright if I-?” He asks, but you don’t let him finish.
“Of course. I already miss your cock, to be honest,” You let yourself smile and his eyes are already blown wide by your response.
“You’re insane, you know that?”
“You made me like this,” You hit his arm playfully. He slides his cock into you again slowly and he watches your mouth fall open slightly at the sensation.
“I did,” He smirks at you, relishing the sight of how fucked out you look just from him staying still.
He picks up the pace, trying to focus on getting himself there. It didn’t seem like it’d take much just from how intensely he looked at you.
“Gonna let me cum inside you, baby? Should I get you pregnant like this?” His questions felt sinful in your ears, but you were too gone to care. You felt pressure building just from that, and the thought of him breeding you felt exciting.
“Yes, please, I want it,” You whine. He felt so deep that you could feel it from your head to your toes. Every single part of you felt overwhelmed by his cock and his relentless pace.
“Good girl, daddy wants to fuck you like this all the time,” He moves to kiss you sloppily, but it still feels heavenly to have him in your mouth. It wasn’t much longer before you felt his body tense beneath you.
“Are you close?” You ask breathily.
“Yeah,” He grunts. He grabs your hips and fucks into you even harder than you remember, the pain radiating from your thighs forces a tear out of your eye but you know it’s helping. He doesn’t warn you before he cums, and the sudden warmth inside of you makes you moan louder than you expect. He finally falls beside you and lets you both recover for a few minutes in silence. You could easily fall asleep like this, both of you laying haphazardly under the covers while his breathing steadies your own.
“Y/N?” He calls your name and it startles you. You struggle to keep your eyes open at the sound of his voice.
“Oh no, I scared you,” His voice is much quieter than before, lulling you back into a state of calmness.
“No, I’m okay, I promise,” You turn to face him, rubbing your eyes gently.
“Ok good. We’ve gotta clean up now, alright?” He softens the blow of the question by kissing your forehead. It still feels foreign to let him take care of you, but when you see how gentle he is, you don’t feel the urge to take control.
It’s enough to watch him go through your suitcase, observing how his eyebrows furrow while trying to decide what shirt you might want to wear.
You decided that he didn’t have to prove anything else to you, ultimately, you could see how pure his heart was, and it would be doing both of you a disservice to let assumptions of character control the course of your relationship.
You’re attentive enough to follow his cues while he’s dressing you or helping you up to the bathroom, but your mind is consumed by him.
“Doing okay, love?” His question pulls your head toward him. You adjust your posture in bed as he approaches you, climbing into the bed beside you.
“Better now that you’re back,” You hum lowly, leaning your head onto his shoulder. You take a deep breath, taking in the feeling of his skin against yours.
His body vibrates as he chuckles. “I’m glad you’re alright. I was thinking about something while we were in the bathroom,” He leans into your touch slightly, enough to make your eyes flutter shut.
“What’s up?” You accept his inquiry.
“I think we should take the kids here one day when they’re old enough,” He explains it as if it’s fate, and you can’t help but smile at the thought of him being certain that your shared future is meant to expand in so many different ways. You can’t picture yourself being pregnant for a long while, but the idea of building a family with him feels right to think about.
“We’ve fucked once and you’re thinking about our kids,” You tease him in a lighthearted tone, but you hear his nervous laughter.
“It’s just a thought,” He waves his hand gently.
“It’s a very nice thought, you’re really sweet,” You finally raise your head to look at him. You let your hand caress his cheek before kissing him gently. He accepts you immediately, and you let yourself linger on his lips for a few moments before pulling away to look at him.
He searches your eyes, focused on figuring out what you’re meant to tell him. You can’t think of anything profound to tell him, any extravagant sentimentalities you might’ve conjured up don’t make their way out onto your lips.
“I love you,” You whisper. Your feelings are buried too deep to let them all out now, but it’s enough to tell him this. You feel the pressure in your chest lessen the moment he smiles back at you.
“I love you so much,” He mumbles the words against your lips before kissing you, love seemed to radiate from his lips the way he was holding you against him. The day unfolded into the evening, time passing languidly as you were enamored with each other.
As you fell asleep with him holding onto your waist, you realized that sweetness had made its way into your life before your very eyes. The limitless potential between the two of you no longer strikes fear into your heart, but instead sustains you in new ways.
There would be time to flesh out the dynamics of your relationship, determining how you’d show up for each other in loud and unspoken ways, but the present feeling of safety that sat in your chest was enough.
Neither of you was perfect, but the act of showing up and being willing to grow with each other was enough.
You are both trying, and that is more than enough.
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emeritusemeritus · 1 year ago
Text
Can I sleep here tonight?
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Title: Can I sleep here tonight?
Pairing: Fred Weasley x pregnant!wife!reader, Molly and Arthur Weasley (being absolute gems)
Timeline: Set post-war. George lost his ear a per canon but Fred is very much alive and thriving, married and expecting his first child. The burrow is mentioned for story purposes so it didn’t burn down and we’re ignoring canon once more.
Summary: George arrives at the burrow asking to spend the night, desperate to get away from Fred and his pregnant wife.
Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, pregnant character, brief mentions of war and previous injury, though no graphic description is included. Mentions of sex.
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It's way past tea time, darkness settling all around as the last glimmer of winter sun fades into the hills when George Weasley apparates onto the familiar dirt road leading up to his childhood home. He's armed with only his wand and a small suitcase no bigger than a briefcase, only holding the basics.
Since the war, Molly and Arthur had kept up the old enchantments placed upon the Burrow as a precaution, the fears never truly leaving them. With a wave of his wand, George clears the enchantments and steps through the invisible barrier to get to the house. As he steps towards the little stone step that acts as the threshold to the house, the door is thrust open and a warm and solid body pulls him inside. He recognises the body as his mother the very second her height and smell come into focus.
"My boy! What are you doing here?  You look tired and peaky, is something wrong? I'll make you something to eat. Arthur!" Molly shouts loudly for her husband after fretting at seeing George on their doorstep without any prior warning, especially without his twin. Since opening the shop, them moving out together, the war, George's recovery, and Fred's wedding, the twins have been so busy it's been an endeavour to get them back home even for a simple visit. "Arthur!"
"Mollywobbles what is it?" Arthur shouts back, his voice getting louder as he moves towards the kitchen. "Oh hello son," he says as he walks into the kitchen, seeing George stood there clutching a small briefcase. Arthur instinctively frowns at the unexpected visit but welcomes his son with warmth, wrapping him in a hug, patting his back a few times before pulling away.
"Do you want a cup of tea dear?" Molly asks, already making her way over to the kettle and busying herself to make something to eat for George, regardless of his radio silence.
"Now Molly, it seems he might need something stronger than tea, right son?" Arthur asks, patting George's shoulder once. "Why don't be crack open some of my Knotgrass mead? I've been saving it for an occasion, no time better than the present." He ushers George to sit at the table and Molly rushes over with a large bottle of mead and two pint glasses, bringing over an elaborate sandwich on a plate for George.
"Thanks mum," George says as Molly places down the welcomed food, noticing that she'd used one of her nicer plates for him, not something that he was ever allowed when he was younger. 
"Cheers!" Arthur says, holding up his glass towards George's after he'd poured them, happy to have a drinking buddy at home.
"So what's wrong son? Not that you're not always welcome of course," Arthur says, eyeing his son with a hint of suspicion as Molly takes a seat opposite George, placing down a cup of tea made for herself.
"Can I stay here tonight?" George asks, cringing at the slight awkwardness of his request, feeling like a child again.
"Of course you can!" Arthur says as if he's offended by the notion of George even having to ask.
"Of course you can dear, how nice to have a fuller house again! I'll put some fresh linens on the bed for you," Molly rushes up towards Fred and George's old room and with a swish of her wand, changes the bedsheets in no time at all. She returns to see the men chatting at the table and takes her place once again, reaching for her tea.
"Do you want to tell us what's wrong?" Arthur says, taking the lead. George sighs heavily, not wanting to say outright what the problem is but unable to think of a plausible excuse.
He sighs once more before admitting to the issue under his parents concerned gazes, "it's Fred and y/n."
"Have you had a falling out?" Molly quickly says, interrupting George. Arthur gives her a quick look which tells her politely to be quiet until their son has finished to which she nods and waits.
"Not exactly, it's just... I can't bare to listen to them having sex anymore. Silencing spells don't work, I've even tried muggle earplugs, well one, but that didn't work either! I only have one ear and it's still bad! Since Y/n got pregnant it's none stop, I thought getting pregnant was bad enough but bloody hell," George barely conceals a shudder at the thought of his twin brother and his wife having near constant sex in the same flat as him.
He picks up the sandwich and begins tucking in, not having time to get any food in his haste to flee the flat about the shop that he shared with Fred and y/n.
He turns his gaze back to his parents and is immediately surprised at the look they are sharing between each other. Both of them are smiling lovingly, a blush spreading on both of their faces, both appear to be speaking with their eyes.
"What?" George says with a mouthful of food, frowning, not understanding their reaction.
"Why do you think we had so many children?" Arthur suddenly laughs, earning a little giggle from Molly, a sound that George had never heard fall from his mother's mouth.
"I couldn't resist your mother when she was pregnant, just something about it," Arthur trails off as if he's daydreaming, a nostalgic smile plastered on his face. "The second she popped one of you out I wanted to try again."
George wants the ground to swallow him up in his entirety as he sits disgusted and uncomfortable. Was nowhere safe anymore? He finds his appetite has significantly decreased and is thankful that he'd finished the sandwich quickly; only praying he could keep it down if his parents kept talking about that.
"It's entirely biological son, it's what the muggles call 'hormones', or so I'm told. There's just something about seeing your wife carrying your child..." Arthur shakes his head slightly as he daydreams, a goofy smile still hanging off his lips as Molly swats his arm playfully.
"I'm going to bed," George mumbles, wanting desperately to get away.
"We'll keep it down tonight!" Arthur jokes earning a cackle from Molly as they both laugh at Arthur's attempt at humour. George grumbles the entire way up to his old bedroom, holding back a shudder at the very thought of not only his brother and y/n but now also his parents.
I need to move away, he thought.
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